Warm greetings from seat 8C of United Airlines Flight 478, a San Francisco-to-Dallas-Fort Worth jaunt that will bring me to what will become the temporary epicenter of Broncos Country, at least for the next few days as the Broncos and Cowboys duel in preseason practices.
*** WARNING ***
I’m traipsing into self-indulgence here. If you want to get to the Broncos-centric content without following on my detour, please skip forward seven paragraphs. Really … I won’t be offended.
For now, though, with a fossil-rock-and-country iPod playlist that includes Jimmy Buffett, The Pretenders, Human League, Johnny Cash, George Strait, and Genesis in the ears, I am strangely content and as relaxed as one can be with three different windows bearing three different pieces of content open on my desktop.
Yes, this is relaxing for me. I’m never more content than when I have familiar music coming through the headphones and a couple of thousand words ahead of me.
Many everyday aspects of life that are easy and natural absolutely confound me. I get too flustered when something shakes up my coccoon. I often look at myself privately and wonder, “Am I really cut out for this — for simply making it through life?”
Then I unhook the laptop latch, and everything seems manageable — at least everything in front of me. Life narrows to the focus of completing a few stories. I’m content.
Jiminy Christmas, you’re still reading this part? You have more fortitude than I. Thanks for sticking with it.
But that contentment rarely lasts for long — and my vacillating comfort level with air travel is a prime example. To wit: I am as relaxed at 35,000 feet as I would be while hanging out with my brother at a bar within a long Frisbee toss of Cocoa Beach, Fla. But I’m flat-out terrified at takeoffs and landings, since I cultivated an unhealthy fascination with calamity as a child and inhaled every book, magazine article or TV news report I found about hurricanes, natural disasters and, of course, air mishaps.
So right now, I’m as mellow as an alligator leisurely sprawled upon a grassy embankment, sunning himself. I’m relaxed, but my head is full of random thoughts …
… I’m thinking about revising my personal prediction of 1,300 yards for Travis Henry. Sure, it was only the preseason, but I couldn’t help but react to his running the way former NBC tennis announcer and longtime Boston Globe columnist Bud Collins used to respond to a thrilling rally at Centre Court or Stade Roland Garros — “Ahhh!” … “Ooooh!” … “Uhhhh!” … “Wow!”
… I’m thinking that John Lynch was barely able to hide his personal displeasure with how the first-team defense played Monday night. They’re better than they showed, and the captain knew it. “Not up to our standard,” Lynch said. “(The 49ers) moved the ball with too much ease, particularly in the run game. They ran the ball too well, so we’ve got to tighten things up. You don’t make excuses, but we are in a new scheme, playing some different techniques, so we’ve got a ways to go. Sometimes things like this humble you and let you know we’ve got a lot of work to do.” …
… I’m thinking about whether the Broncos’ collection of captains Saturday was the most experienced in the league — a pair of 15-year veterans in Jason Elam and Lynch and 14-year center Tom Nalen …
… I’m thinking that these were some of the players who caught my eye last night between blog entries and writing the game story: Mike Bell, Tim Crowder, Elvis Dumervil, Hamza Abdullah, Steve Cargile, Travis Henry, the entire first-team offensive line, Troy Fleming and Louis Green …
… I’m thinking that Dumervil could have quite the bulbous total of sacks (yes, lawdog, I changed this) this year …
… I’m thinking that I like the fact that the San Francisco 49ers wore black shoes with their uniforms Monday night, but that if the Broncos tried it, my girlfriend would proclaim the look a fashion disaster, probably saying something about how black doesn’t go with dark blue …
… I’m thinking that I have no future as a fashionista because I can’t figure out which colors match with others …
… I’m thinking about the fact that I heard at least 12 different languages being spoken as I traversed San Francisco. What an amazing place …
… I’m thinking that I was wrong about Alex Smith, and that not only is he going to be a heck of a quarterback, but he may already be there …
… I’m thinking about how Gerard Warren reacted to an interview request last year on the Wednesday before Christmas, when a massive snowstorm rocked Dove Valley: “Please, please, there’s a blizzard outside, I’ve got a bowl of potato soup and we’re stuck here at the facility!” All those words were yelled without him pausing for a breath …
… I’m thinking that I still miss Larry King’s inane “News and Views” column that used to run daily in USA Today …
… I’m thinking about the fact we’ll be staying in Las Colinas. If you’ve seen Office Space you might be familiar with the place from a line that contented construction handyman Lawrence utters early in the movie:
“I’ve got to wake my a– up at 6 a.m. every day this week, drag up to Las Colinas. Yeah, I’m doing the drywall up there at the new McDonald’s.”
Now, upon rehearing the line, I think Lawrence may actually be saying, “Las Galindas.” But given Mike Judge’s Texas roots, I’m willing to believe Lawrence was actually meaning to say “Las Colinas,” which ensures that I will at some point this week drive over to the McDonald’s and take a picture of the drywall …
… I’m thinking that we’re coming in for a landing, so it’s time to save this piece for cutting and pasting later. Probably a good time, too, because my thoughts are getting a mite loopy. Time to pack up the laptop, stow it, and grab the armrests as though they were a rope in a tug-of-war.
First, though, the lyrics to my favorite song that ties somewhat to the Metroplex …
DOES FORT WORTH EVER CROSS YOUR MIND - George Strait
Cold Fort Worth beer just ain’t no good for jealous,
I’ve tried it night after night,
You’re in someone else’s arms — in Dallas,
Does Fort Worth ever cross your mind?
Darling, while you’re busy burning bridges,
Burn one for me if you get time,
‘Cause good memories don’t fade so easy,
Does Fort Worth ever cross your mind?
You left me here to be with him — in Dallas,
And I know it hurt you at the time,
But I wonder now if it makes a difference?
Does Fort Worth ever cross your mind?
You left me here to be with him — in Dallas,
And I know it hurt you at the time,
But I wonder now if it makes a difference?
Does Fort Worth ever cross your mind?
Does Fort Worth ever cross your mind?
You’re lucky — I could have posted the lyrics to Islands in the Stream.
Until Wednesday from Valley Ranch, vaya con Dios.
Tags: Training Camp
I’m thinking that your girlfriend is none too pleased with the fact that you used the term “bulbous sack” in the graph immediately proceeding the one in which you mention her.
I’m also thinking that Las Colinas is a bit of an oxymoron considering that you’re going to be in a part of Texas that is flatter than a billiard table. (Note to the Spanish challenged among us, Las Colinas roughly translates as The Hills).
Finally I’m thinking that the 12 pre-flight Bloody Marys might have dulled the terror of taking to wild blue, but grogging and blogging may not mix.
Vaya con Dios, Spencer. We love your work.
(P.S. I’m obviously hoping the Spencer nickname will stick. Maybe I can get Foxy in on it…)
As my dad would say, “You can call me anything, just don’t call me late for supper” … and for the record, it took no alcohol to write that post. Thanks for the kind words, as always; now it’s time to sleep, as 7 a.m. will be here way too soon –
Andrew
Nice entry. And I love that you are a Celebrity Jeopardy fan! Major props!
Andrew’s a Parrot Head?