During last weekend's trip to the NCAA West Regionals (aka The Lowest Scoring Regional Since the Shot Clock) Quinn and I sought out a place to watch the games we weren't seeing in person. The "off" day between games in San Jose meant 4 games in other regions. There was enough riding on these games (more on that later) that we needed to watch them. Highlights wouldn't suffice.
So, like any good Dad I looked for a clean sports bar in downtown San Jose. We found the only one. One row behind the bar, high chairs (not highchairs), surrounded by grown men in Kansas and UCLA gear (apparently it wasn't an "off" day for the fans). Me and Quinn. I asked the server twice -- "we (motioning to the 9 year old) can sit here, right?" Apparently so.
Three banks of two TV's each, both games covered. Perfect. We sat down at the 19:00 mark of the first game, ordered too much food and stretched it out over the entire game. Good food, no foul language, not smoky, no drunk fans around us save one odd character -- a very memorable evening. Light rail (some cities have made public transportation a priority) back to the hotel, brush teeth and in bed to watch the second half of the late games. Quinn was sound asleep before 9 PM. Which is more than I can say for his last trip to a sports bar with his Dad...
Several of my Sonics alumni friends set up a "draft" NCAA pool but needed an extra participant. Enter Quinn. Rewind to three weeks ago, the night we returned from Phoenix -- up early that morning (ok, no different than any other morning), played baseball in the park, went to the Mariners spring training complex 3 hours pre-game, sat thru a game, rushed to rental car return, thru security, bags at the airport and p/u by loving wife -- after not enough food and too much sun was the night of the "draft." Quinn spent the entire flight meticulously rank ordering all 64 teams in the tournament. We got home from this 4 day marathon trip at 9:20 PM and dropped off Kate, Colin and Lawton.
Quinn and I rushed to The Ram (sports bar) by 9:30 PM. On a school night. After the trip. To gamble. In a bar. 7 guys and one 9 year old sitting around on a Tuesday night until after 11 PM drafting teams and putting money in the pot. I don't even have a good story from it or even particularly memorable quotes (Q: "that's a solid pick, Mickey," "Marshall, you realize that 6 of your teams are all in the same region"), just a great memory of a beaming, albeit tired kid doing what most would think are completely age-inappropriate activities.
2 comments:
Can't wait for the new Village Pub in Magnolia. Quinn and I can go there and you can do the hair thing with Colin.
Good words.
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