On the Tuesday of every Super Bowl week, four or five of us have the exact same conversation:
"Do you want to go to the Media Party?"
"No, but we should probably go?"
"Why?"
"I don't really know, but we should."
And so we loaded up the Hashmarks Sentra, and headed out to Corona Ranch, which may or may not be located in Arizona. At one point last night, I was receiving directions from Around the Horn's Tim Cowlishaw and Cardinals center Al Johnson at the same time.
After traveling approximately 77 miles and making two wrong turns, we were met with the overwhelming smell of manure. This is what finally led us to the party.
After bumping into Ravens left tackle Jonathan Ogden in line, we made our way to the banquet hall, where TV reporters were doing live shots in front of the tamale buffet for no apparent reason. Outside, the Arizona Office of Tourism offered steer roping, cowboy golf, a quick draw contest and a mechanical bull. In fact, our buddy Dan Steinberg snapped a picture of Ogden with a lasso.
The only problem was that the temperature dipped into the high 40s, and reporters were forced to huddle around giant heat lamps. This arrangement encouraged a lot of awkward conversation because of the prolonged intimacy.
In a rather surprising development, the Gin Blossoms provided entertainment for the evening. In 1994, this would've been a coup for the Host Committee. Last night, it was just sad. Don't get me wrong, I'm still a sucker for "Hey Jealousy" and "Till I Hear it From You," but you could tell that the four members of the band were beaten men.
Lead singer Robin Wilson opened the set with a rousing "Hello Super Bowl 42 press corps, welcome to Arizona!" It was one of those moments where you didn't want to make eye contact with anyone for at least four or five minutes.
After a few songs, Wilson ordered a vodka and Red Bull from the stage. He then asked if his band members could have a few shots of Jack Daniels. The fact that he asked if the drinks were free makes me wonder about the band's finances. I never saw these men at their peak, but I'm thinking they probably didn't order drinks from the stage.
Every now and then, I could still hear the party emcee reminding guests to try the Cold Stone Creamery and FairyTale Brownies, which were amazing by the way.
On the way out of the party, we were handed pint glasses in the shape of a boot and Sonora Desert calendars. All in all, it was a nice evening. And I'd be lying if I told you I wasn't going to go home and dig up my Gin Blossoms CDs.
