Wednesday, March 15, 2006

So What Did We Actually Do in Vegas?

A lot of what you see below: Hanging out in our suite at the MGM Grand, cracking wise and remembering the old days. There was some gambling, some sports watching, some taking in of the sights. But, for the most part, we did what we do best: Talk bull.
Boring, you say? A waste of time? Well I'll see your Blue Man Group and raise you a Pat Muir. Wayne Newton? Try Steve Davis. Danny Gans? Danny effin' Gans? Meet Jamie Cook. We had all the entertainment we needed. You tell me what sounds more fun: Paying through the nose to watch some blue-skin freaks contort their bodies, or listening to Mike and Jamie take on the personas of former Penn State basketball brothers John and Joe Crispin.

O.K., I see how this can seem a bit arcane. But what made this trip was legendary humor, the kind that can best be appreciated among people with a shared and long history. We were finishing each other's stories and cracking up before the punch line continually for four days. Everyone would take turns: Mike would hold court, then Pat and Spotty would recount a story, then Steve would inject some Greenville humor, then Cook would shut us all down. J.C. is so adept at adding the comedic cherry to anyone's story that I named him "The Closer." I hope the nickname sticks.

This all came to a head on Friday night, when we all were in top form. We burned the night away, turning the MGM suite into our own little Friar's Club. If a bunch of morons can be in the zone, that's where we were. Timing was crisp, delivery was spot-on. I could be found rolling on the floor laughing my arse off a good half-dozen times. It was a group performance that can only be re-created once every few years. If you missed it, try to catch the next one. Those are the points in time that make all the other long stretches worthwhile. Huzzah!


I should be flogged for waiting this long to hand out a Rocket Fever Vegas-Edition Huzzah to Charles Robinson. C. Rob, who covers the NFL for Yahoo, was prevented from making the trip when Gene Upshaw and Paul Tagliabue couldn't play nice. But the mensch sent hud a C-note for a round of drinks on him. If that isn't stand-up behavior, I'll just sit my ass down. Thanks.


Spotty, taking notes on Marcia Cross.
(photo by Mike Hudson)

Pat, photographing the rare Southeast Michigan Passed Out Cook

"Hey, guys, how about a little love for J.C.?"

1 comment:

Solari said...

Cook and Muir look like they are ready to front a Mars Volta tribute band.

So bitter that I couldn't make it. So, so bitter. And jealous.