Day 6 - Super Bowl Sunday!
7:00 am. Up with the sun on Gameday! I feel totally recharged. Ready to get my blog on. I need to recap all the adventures from yesterday but first, COFFEE.
7:10 am. The hotel is quiet. The calm before the storm. I'm reminded of the story of Tom Brady taking a nap before Superbowl XXXVI. Yup, that's me. Totally chill before blogging my first bowl. Will that make me a champion? Only time will tell.
7:30 am. I'm slaving over my laptop, tickling the keys like Liberace. Bam. You're welcome.
9:30 am. Time for a break, I trek down to see Baby at the hotel bar. I get some of that nutrient rich vodka and sprite with lemon action. Baby's having a career week at the bar. It's been 4 deep to get a drink during business hours for 4 days. I try to convince Baby to spend her new wealth on me. She's reluctant. Time to get back to bringing you the news you need.
11:30 am. Day 5, finished and posted. Fellow CHFF writer Jonathan "Colonel" Comey arrives to meet us for lunch. After a brief tour of our hotel room publishing headquarters, we head down to Draft sports bar.
12:00 pm. I've never met the Colonel in person before. We soon learn that he's recently lost 130 pounds. He and I take the opportunity to mock Kerry for being fatter than us. A lousy Caeser salad and 4 beers later it's time.
1:00 pm. Kerry and the Colonel grab the bus to the stadium. I designate myself to give the pregame speech before they go. "60 minutes. All I want is everything you got for 60 minutes. Let's write ourselves into history." Nothing else needs to be said.
1:20 pm. Back to the room for a nap before the biggest moment of my blogging life. Me and Brady, we do it cool.
3:45 pm. I'm up and ready to write. I do some hand flexing and shaking to warm up. Go in cold and tweak a carpal tunnel and see where that gets you.
4:23 pm. Caught up with blogging the events of the morning and early afternoon. I'm ready for the pregame meal. I'll go see Baby and get a brisket sandwich to go. Be back on the other side.
By Frankie C. Cold Hard Football Facts Underachiever Extraordinaire
Day 5 - An Old Man Hits The Wall
7:00 am. I am awake and surprisingly undamaged from the events of last night. Today the plan is to rent a car and check out some party that a Pittsburgh radio station is having and if there's time go to Southern Methodist University to buy a t-shirt. Going to get some coffee and post some of yesterdays tremendousness.
10:00 am. Got part one of day 4 up on the site and showered. I went downstairs to have a smoke and was greeted by the sun! The hotel is en fuego. People are flying through the lobby. The commotion is dizzying. I swing up to the room and find that the chief isn't ready yet. I'm going to the bar.
10:05 am. I see Don Banks of Sports Illustrated in the elevator. I consider telling him I like his work, but the Peter King episode is still too fresh in my mind. I think better of the idea.
10:30 am. I'm sitting at Draft Sports Bar. My 1st drink of the day is a Ketel One Citreon with sprite and a lemon. I'm feeling good about the choice. That lemon on the rim of my glass is the first appearance of vitamins in my diet since I've been here, unless olives have vitamins. I'm not a nutritionist.
11:00 am. I can feel those vitamins pumping through my blood stream. I do it again. If one lemon is good, then let's lemonize this action.
11:16 am. Well look who's here! Mr. Big Apple just sidled up next to me at the bar. He greets me, which tells me I wasted a business card on him. He definitely didn't know I wanted to see him savaged by wild dogs.
11:30 am. Kerry just made it to the bar. In typical Kerry fashion, he starts chatting up the group of guys next to us, opposite Mr. Big Apple. This time it works out okay. The guys actually grew up in Quincy, our hometown. Our inner douches see themselves in these guys. We have a drink with them and now it's off to pick up the rental car.
12:00 pm. In the cab on the way to the rental place, Kerry does a radio interview on the phone. This is the strangest interview/cab ride ever. Our cab arrives in the area our destination while he's talking. Not AT our destination. The cabby missed our turn and we have to dick around with paying the guy and jump out onto the dirty, sandy mush of the street while a ninja cop shows up out of nowhere to see what's going on. Meanwhile a very patient radio station in Brockton, MA listens in.
12:30 pm. We've picked up our car from Amanda at the rental place. Within the first 30 seconds of meeting she mentions her boyfriend. I think she's reminding herself she has one. She wants me. We're off to Addison, TX for a Steeler fan party with ex-player Deshea Townsend.
1:00 pm. We arrive at Malarkey's tavern for the party. It's pandemonium. These Steeler fans are passionate... or clinically insane. It's a sea of black and gold, and the sea is angry, my friend. It's like downtown Cairo without the rock throwing.
1:30 pm. Deshea Townsend and Ken Laird are doing their radio show from the party. Kerry whores himself out for a 10 minute segment with them.
1:45 pm. The interview is over. I get a couple beers and mingle with the revelers. These are my people, drunken animals.
2:00 pm. The radio program is over. Deshea gets up on stage and sings Mustang Sally with the band. The crowd and the band seem pleased. I feel like Simon Cowell, "If I'm being honest, I think it was atrocious.". I'm a mustang sally snob.
2:30 pm. The Pittsburgh fans are awesome. They definitely know how to par-tay. My buzz is back!
3:15 pm. Time to split. Kerry's got another show to do back in the downtown area. Back on the road.
3:45 pm. Dallas is a confusing city to drive, Man. It's all overlapping highways and one ways. They have a cartoon Jetsons feel. Everyone's moving 100 miles an hour. I'm glad I'm not the one driving. Thank God for the laws against operating under the influence.
3:55 pm. We arrive at the Packer fan party. It's being hosted at the 6 day old bar owned by former packer Brian Williams. ESPN Milwaukee's Homer True is hosting a live broadcast from there. He's been good to CHFF so Kerry's going to get on for a segment.
4:00 pm. The bar itself can't contain all these fans. The parking lot has a stage with a band and hundreds of green and yellow clad yahoos. Men outnumber the women like 10-1. No wonder Wisconsin is known for sausage. Advantage Pittsburgh.
4:10 pm. Kerry does his segment on the radio. Kerry knows that picking Pittsburgh in front of this crowd might be hazardous to his health, so he panders and tells them what a great party they throw. I'd be more critical of this move if my own safety wasn't on the line. Pander on, my friend. Pander on.
4:30 pm. Interview complete. We grab an undercooked bratwurst and decide to hit the Southern Methodist University bookstore for some shwag. I pay 70 dollars for a t-shirt and 2 hats. Shopping drunk is a mistake.
5:00 pm. The bookstore is closing. Kerry's trying to convince the staff that double XL is a perfectly normal size for a college student to wear and that they must carry that size somewhere in the back room.
5:45 pm. We're back in the room. We hit traffic and then the greatest football mind of our generation had trouble navigating a parking garage.
6:00 pm. Finally back in the room. I'm utterly exhausted. We're supposed to get ready for the Pro Football Writers of America dinner. The first shuttle leaves at 6:45. I simply cannot do it. I need a nap.
7:00 pm. I'm awake and feeling just good enough to get this dinner banged out. The good part about getting older is knowing my limits. The bad part is my limits are so damned limited.
7:45 pm. We board the shuttle bus to the dinner. The writers are talking about the newly inducted hall of fame class. For the 4th year in a row, a record amount of defensive players are inducted. More kudos to Cold Hard Football Facts.
8:00 pm. We sit down to dinner with John Ingoldsby of IIRsports.com Paul Domowitch of Philly.com. We have dinner together and I'm not sure if Kerry or John or Paul found it as interesting as I did, but I had a blast listening to 3 football historians rap about football. I thoroughly enjoyed it.
9:00 pm. I look across the room and see John Clayton and his wife sitting at a table near us. I'm starting to feel bad about tearing Clayton up on Wednesday. It's not his fault he's no Frankie C. That day on the bus was awful, I was surly. Sorry John.
10:00 pm. Back on the shuttle to the hotel. I can't wait to call it a night. I'm so old. The Frankie of as recently as 5 years ago would've stolen the bus and driven everyone to Mexico. I'm shadow of myself.
11:00 pm. Back in the room. I get a text from Beautiful Sherri. She has my number from calling back to pay the bill the night before. I spelled her name wrong. Of course I did. Day 5 in Dallas ends with spelling correction from a bartender at a honky tonk. Talk to you fine people tomorrow.
By Frankie C
Cold Hard Football Facts Shit Kickin' Honky Tonk Bedonka-donker
Day 4 Part 2 (Friday). Show Sergio Your Hoo Hoo
Change of plans. Instead of the Pamela Anderson party, we've decided to spend tonight at a shit-kicking honky-tonk bar. We've even picked out the place, Adair's saloon 2624 Commerce St. in the Deep Ellum section of Dallas. I'm not a country music fan by any stretch, but I figure when in Rome...
7:30 pm. We arrive at Adair's. It's deserted like most joints in town. I'm not optimistic about the evening. I'm beginning to wonder what the hell was wrong with rubbing elbows with the likes of Pam Anderson.
7:45 pm. We get some beers and get to know the bartender, Sherry. She's from Virginia Beach, Virginia and foolishly followed some sailor to Dallas. As in all stories where someone follows someone else somewhere else for love, it didn't end well.
Sherry assures us that while beautiful, she could certainly be a crazy bitch and therefore responsible for the failure in the relationship. I've been drinking on and off all day and she's really pretty. I know better. It's the fault of that filthy sailor. Either way, her willingness to be responsible is endearing.
8:00 pm. I'm still nervous this night is going to suck. I calm my nerves with 2 shots of Crown Royal. Things are looking up. I start to wonder why that bastard sailor broke Beautiful Sherrys heart.
8:10 pm. Kerry decides to put some money in the jukebox. I'm chatting with beautiful Sherry. We're getting along famously and Kerry, the world's foremost authority on all things football, decides he needs help figuring out the complexities of a machine he's managed to use his whole life. He calls beautiful Sherry over, removing her from my presence. I start to think about gluing his nutsack to his leg while he sleeps.
8:11 pm. Looking around this shithole while Kerry spoils my fun, I notice that the bar is covered floor to ceiling in graffiti. Just peoples names and notes everywhere. Directly in front of me written on a refrigerator door are the words "Show Sergio your hoo hoo." Never in my life have I felt such a kinship with anyone named Sergio.
8:30 pm. I'm buzzing now. I think maybe Adair's is awesome. Beautiful Sherry is growing more beautiful by the second and she recommends the cheeseburgers. I now believe everything Sherry tells me. We order the burgers.
9:00 pm. The burgers are out and I was wise to trust beautiful Sherry. This might be all the booze and beers talking but this is unquestionably one of the best burgers I've ever had. It's just a cheeseburger with lettuce, tomato, and onion but the hook is the pickled jalepeno toothpicked on top. I'm floored. REALLY good stuff. What's even better is that that jalepeno burns just enough to make the beers even more delicious. This place gets better and better.
9:15 pm. The bar begins to fill with people. Including one native Texan guy, Keith, who Kerry starts talking to. I go out of my way not to chat with anyone with a penis. Kerry is an everybody guy. He makes more friends that way, but I don't have to talk to anyone with a penis. I'll take my strategy.
9:30 pm. Keith seems like a cool guy. Thankfully, I'm not the one sitting next to him. I'm enjoying my beers and reading the walls. I'm content. The band is setting up. Looking around Kerry and I notice one guy in a Boston Bruins cap. Into the bar walk two more guys, one in a Celtics cap, another in Red Sox hat. Turns out they're from Massachusetts. The guy in the Celtics hat introduces himself as Sully. As if his name could've been anything else.
10:00 pm. The band begins to play. It's country. I don't know the song but the band is tight. The girls in the room are swaying and all appears right with the world. Some girl refuses to look at me as she walks by me to the bathroom. I take this as proof she's into me. Keith seems to think I should move in. I think Keith should worry about his own game.
10:20 pm. This band is actually really good. I'm having a blast. Keith is becoming a pain in the ass. Even Kerry is annoyed.
10:45 pm. I go out for a smoke. The cold night air is refreshing. The band continues to jam inside the bar. I'm loving Dallas right now.
10:55 pm. As soon as I get in, Kerry's ready to go. He's had enough of Keith and his mojo is gone. I'm tired anyway and we split. We decide to walk back to the hotel. It's still cold here. I have to tuck my arms up into my sleeves as we walk. Far down the street, I realize we forgot to pay the tab. There's NO WAY, I'm walking back in the cold to the bar.
11:15 pm. Back to the room. I call the bar and speak to beautiful Sherry. She's bitching at me that she's going to have to pay for our tab. I try to explain that I'm calling so that won't happen. Eventually beautiful Sherry calms down and takes my info. Hmmm. Maybe that sailor was on to something.
12:10 am. I'm all caught up and going to sleep. I guess we all learned a valuable lesson. I learned that I'm right about talking to people with penises and Sherry learned that not all people are douches that leave without paying. As for Kerry, well, his lesson comes tonight in the form of superglue...
Day 4 Part 1 (Friday). A New Hope
Day 4 8:15 am. I decided to use last night to pass go and recharge my batteries completely. I slept for almost 12 hours. But, before you assume that the night was uneventful, assume again. I have a very important message for those of you who doubt the existence of God. He's real. He also works in mysterious ways.
Somewhere around 4 am, I woke up and trudged down to the sidewalk to have a cigarette and you'll never guess what I saw... It was Candy from the strip club! She looked a little um, weathered. Well I guess Candy heard God when he said to treat her well and she'd treat you well. Based on what I saw, my conclusion is I didn't treat her well enough. Someone in this hotel got some of that good old reciprocal treatment. God probably wanted me to understand how religious Candy was because she didn't recognize me, but she did ask me where she could find a cab. Bless her soul.
8:30 am. Out the window I see that the city is covered in a fresh blanket of snow. It's still hard to believe this is Dallas, Texas. I can see miles of road from the room. Not one single plow. It's going to get messy out there. I'm going to get cleaned up and get over to the media center. I'll let you know the latest when I get there.
9:37 am. In the immortal words of MC Lyte, I'm "funky fresh dressed to impress, ready to party." We're going to forego the media center for the time being. Kerry's due over there at 11 am for interviews on radio row so we'll head over then. I'm going to crack beer numero dos in the meantime. It's all about preparation in the media game. I can't go over there half assed. I intend to do everything fully assed.
I realize I'm starving and head down to the hotel sports bar. I've still got an hour until I have to be at the media center. I order quesadillas and chat up a charming couple next to me at the bar. They're in from Kentucky. I soon learn they had no trouble with their flight. I now find them decidedly less charming.
10:30 am. The couple from Kentucky is gone. Probably to their room where they, unlike me, get to engage in Coitus Superbowlus, the hottest of all vacation sex.
They're replaced by a guy who when I mention that I'm from Boston, says "I'm sorry." Turns out, he's from New York. I'd like to see him ripped apart by wild dogs. Lavar Arrington is in the bar. He's just a massive dude. I wish that Lavar would sack Mr. Big Apple.
11:00 am. Kerry finds me at the bar and we arrive on Radio Row. Ray Rice of the Baltimore Ravens is in the house. In typical Frankie C fashion, I am ignored by him.
11:15 am. Kerry just taped an interview with Boston sports radio 98.5 FM. Good segment. Mike Felger and Tony Massarotti are actual pretty cool guys. It's interesting to meet the guys behind the voices on the radio.
11:45 am. Kerry did another segment on Jeff "Doc" Dockeray's tailgate radio show. There's got to be 200 shows going on at the same time. While I was filming the interview I notice a beautiful blonde wearing a tiara doing an interview across the way.
12:00 pm. Yup, that's newly crowned Miss America, Teresa Scanlan, in the blue dress. She must have noticed how approachably douchey I am. She wants a photo with me. Oh well, needs of the business...
Had a really interesting conversation with Rick Gosselin of the Dallas Morning News. Many people aren't aware of this, but Kerry's played an integral part in raising awareness of the total lack of recognition for many hall of fame worthy defensive players. Rick is in the same camp. That's what we talked about. Rick's a hall of fame voter. I feel important because I'm nodding when he looks at me.
12:45 pm. We stop at the bar so I can grab a picture with the girl that's been setting me up with my martinis all week. Her name's Alisa (pronounced Ah-Lisa) but I call her Baby (pictured here after prepare my delectable martini). I had to give a shout out to her, she's a sweetheart, makes a great drink and has that irresistable Texas accent.
1:00 pm. Back in the room to share my story with you fine people.
2:00 pm. Back at the bar for a dirty martini. While I'm there I see two guys who don't dislike the Packers and then Sal Palantonio played the ignore Frankie C game. Damn you, Sal.
3:16 pm. I'm all caught up with the blog. I'm going to hit the lobby and see what other famous people want to play ignore Frankie C.
4:30 pm. Saw Michael Irvin in the lobby. He definitely wanted to play "Ignore Frankie C". Apparently this game is sweeping the nation. There's a reason they call Irvin "The Playmaker." He's awesome at this game.
5:00 pm. Catching a pregame nap. I want to be at my best tonight.