I saw John Elway!!

So the title pretty much says it all. Or at least I should not have to explain that to anyone for them to understand how significant it it (and if you do need an explanation, I am earnestly sorry). It was at the Nuggets game this past Saturday. We were down by 8 or 9 in the last two minutes of the game, and unlike so many of his mythical football performances, this time Mr. Elway apparently took the opportunity to say "ha ha ha, suckers..." and leave. Champ Bailey, defensive back extraordinaire walked past first with his two little kids and exited down the tunnel about 20 feet in front of us, and then a feeling of shock and disbelief crept over our part of the arena as John and his daughter approached. For about two seconds (a car crash two seconds), no one said anything, and then everyone erupted in applause and stood up cheering. How insane is that!? What must that be like, to be John Elway, to be met with maddening applause and cheers everytime you go somewhere. The ordinary experiences, the buying coffee and things like that probably get annoying, but I would imagine that being cheered at the Pepsi Center must be pretty intense. He still has an official website even! How many retired NFL quarterbacks still have an authentic website? The fame, the love, it's insane. Oh well, I'll just ask Peter Bodo what that's like. I'm sure he knows...

Peter Bodo - how do I get your job?

Peter Bodo, if that is indeed your real name, how can I be you? It's not the gently wrinkled, jolly expression that captured me. It's not even the passable tennis writing, or the casualness with which you name drop the big guys:

"A moment later, the door to the locker room opened and out strolled Roger. As he passed by us, he called out, "Is that so Larry?" He was laughing. He kept right on going, around the corner, to do God knows what end (collecting his 11th Grand Slam title, thereby saving a trip to Paris?)."

Whatever, man, that's cool I guess...but seriously, how do I get your job? Let's take a look at your bio:

Pete was born in Austria to Hungarian parents and emigrated to the U.S. at age 4, in 1953. He grew up in New York and suburban New Jersey and attended Clifton (N.J.) High School and Seton Hall University, where he was an English major. He learned tennis as a youth, played a club-level game, and taught the sport occasionally while in college. Pete has covered every major tennis tournament multiple times, and gone on assignment for TENNIS to locales such as Beijing, China, Monte Carlo, Ecuador, Moscow, Hawaii, and Australia [...] He’s also become TENNIS’ unofficial representative in the media and other public forums.

But now you and I are on the same page. We're doing the same thing: blogging about tennis! What an occupation! Except you get money and probably babes for it. I've got neither. What gives? Our back stories are practically the same! I could be you. We went to public high schools, public universities, majored in English, both played some tennis, except there I've even got you beat. But you get the fancy job and the big assignments. You get to listen to Roger (or R-Fed, as a friend so cleverly dubbed him) talk smack in the hallway after he demolishes the competition. How did this happen? Call me, Pete, and we'll talk over beers. I'm up and coming. You've got connections. Let's get some sort of internship type deal working, or maybe you can just hand the keys over to me in a year or so. I'm down for whatever. If you don't think this will work -- well, I'm coming for you. Watch out either way.