So the other day I won FREE Mavs Winterfest, Idol, championship autograph session tickets (or something like that). The email originally came in as something like
FROM: Joe Smith
SUBJECT: (blank)
Being quite Internet savvy I deleted this immediately. I have no idea who Joe Smith is. I haven’t been to the bar lately so there’s no way I accidently provided my REAL email address to some random guy named Joe Smith.
But then I get a second email
FROM: Joe Smith
SUBJECT: MAVS VIP WINTERFEST (something something) WINNER
I’m not sure what contest I entered (and even now still do not) but I couldn’t help, I opened the email. Much to my surprise, it informed me I had won 2 free tickets to a VIP autograph signing session. Doesn’t that sound like some Christmas fairy tale?
I’m old, I’m fat, I’m skeptical. Not sure I can believe my good luck (and still having no knowledge what contest I entered, because I normally don’t), I call Jo. Who else would I call? She loves the Mavs as much as I do. We scheduled a rendezvous with the Mavericks for the following day.
The letter says pick up your VIP ticket as 3:30 and be in line by 4pm SHARP. Well, things are as they are and we pick up our tickets about 3:40 and the line is already wrapped around the building. At this point I have figured out my tickets are pretty legit (my name was on the list) but we have planned poorly.
Luckily, the weather is nice and we are shortly ushered into the arena. The talk up and down the line is if you want Dirk’s autograph, get in his line and don’t move, otherwise you won’t get it. If you don’t know how much I LOVE Dirk, then frankly you just don’t know me. We wait patiently in Dirks line.
Unfortunately, we realize that the key to getting ALL the autographs is to divide and conquer ( or actually show up an hour earlier than says on the email/ticket). So Jo being the darling she is says I’ll stay here got see what you can do.
Everything I’m telling you from this point on is the complete and accurate dialog of what occurred. However, the parts that actually went through my brain are identified as “this is my brain talking”
Dang I hope this line would move faster. There is no way I’m giving up getting close to Dirk for Jason Kidd. Hmmm, Jason is not that bad looking up close. I swear he keeps looking at me. No, really that’s the second time he turned around and smiled at ME!
Pretending he hasn't noticed me
Me: Hi, Mr. Kidd (maybe addressing him as Mister will make me seem younger). How are you?
J Kidd: Hello! <huge smile, not kidding!> How are you?
Me: Can you sign my bobblehead please?
J Kidd: <lol, no really he did> Of course! Where do you want me to sign?
Me: On the top of the head please!
J Kidd: That’s great! Here you go!
Me: Thank you! (He keeps looking at me! He wants me, I can tell!)
Next…
I might have made a bad strategic move. I’m using last year’s roster but there are guys on the table who didn’t play with the new team. That’s ok I cover by saying, next year you’ll be on this championship roster. So I just tell them to sign in the blank spaces….
Me: Hi, how are you?
#13: I ’m great how are you?
Me: You’re a leftie like me!
#13: Yea I am. That means we are smarter than everyone else!
Me: Don’t I know it!
#13: <giving me the eye-to-eye sign> I got you!
Me: Yea you do! (OMG He wants me too! I can tell!)
At the time I only knew him as #13. I’ve now learned it is Delonte West. And I must say I like this kid’s attitude!
Next…
B. Haywood: <Looks a little beat down by the whole process, probably because he knows without Chandler we don’t stand a chance on defense. And he can’t make a free shot to save his life>
Me: Hello Bubba! How are you?
Brandon: <A little surprised at my enthusiasm> Um Hi. <He signs>
Me: Thank you! (He liked me, but not the way that Kidd and #13 did. I don’t want to exaggerate)
I rush back to Jo who is now miles closer to my idol, my hero, my fantasy. The last 20 minutes has kept me from stressing out over the actual interaction with Dirk. We are feet away. And I’m panicking; this is the closest I’ve actually ever been to him. My heart is racing, my palms are sweating, in fact, I’m sweating in places that one does not normally sweat. Ok, that’s maybe not sweat but that is not the subject of this story.
Dirk is first in the row:
ME: Hello, Mr Nowitzki!
Dirk: Hello <in his best German accent>
Me: <I can’t breathe! I hear my heart beating in my ears so loud I can barely make out his words> Would you sign my Jersey please?
Dirk: Sure, where do you want me to sign?
Me: (On the innermost top of my left thigh please!) The number would be great. You are so much more handsome up close!
B. Cardinal: <gives me the hand signal ‘Have you been drinking?’>
Dirk: Blushes, ducks his head and starts signing.
Cardinal: You’ve been drinking haven’t you?
Me: <While Dirk’s not looking, I whisper> I like a bald man too! <Me and Brian laugh>
Me: Hey hot bald man would you sign for me?
Brian: Of course, but I think you’ve started a little early.
Me: (They want me, both of them. I swear. I can tell. I think I like that Briand Cardinal!)
Next…
Me: Mr. Mahimi would you sign my roster please
Mahimi: <Smiles at me with the prettiest white teeth ever> Yes I will.
Next…
We make a beeline for Jet Terry’s table. I recognize only Roddy Beaubois and the Jet. I have no idea who the other two guys are. Jo says one of them is Vince Carter. I’m not exactly sure what this means but I do know I’m excited to see Jet.
Me: Bonjour, Monsieur Beaboi?
Beaubois: Oh! His eyes light up> Bonjour! How are you?
Some random guy in line: Oh you one up’d me!
Me: Nope, you just gotta know your players.
Beaubois: That’s my girl!
Me: (Another Mavs player wants me! I can tell! What are the odds!)
New Mavs Player: Just signs
Me: Hi how are you?
V. Carter: <acts like he’s getting teeth pulled barely looks up and signs. Kind of jerk really.>
Me: Hello Mr. Terry!
Jet: Hey, how are you?
Me: You are so cute to me!
Me: If you ever wanna leave your wife and chase older women
Jet: <laughs heartily> I’m coming for you first!
We scurry over to the last lien but unfortunately they are not allowing anyone to join that line. We have to settle to moving to the side and trying to figure out who’s signing at that table. But wait, I swear it seems like Shawn Marion, The Matrix, keeps looking at me.
Sidenote: Have I ever told you about the time I partied with Shawn Marion at the club. No? Well remind me the next time we meet. Yes? Have I told you for the 100th time? Well then there you go. There’s room for one more.
Ok I know it’s not my imagination! He keeps looking at me. No matter who he signs for. So I just whip out my widest smile and my most enthusiastic wave! Lo and behold, my friend Shawn (have I told you about the time I partied with him?), give me back the most infection grin and huge wave. Jo is my witness!
We take some seats and watch the warm up and the first half of the inter-team scrimmage.
(Then someone taps me on my shoulder. Miss I don’t mean to seem forward but Dirk thought you were charming and would like to know if you’d like to meet him after the event. I’d be honored, I say and hand Jo the keys to Smart-T. I’ll take a taxi home. Dirk is a bit more dressed now and we head to the W for a couple of drinks in the VIP section. One thing leads to the inevitable other, Dirk is having the night of his life and I’m sneaking out the hotel with my panties in my purse. He’s been calling me ever since but if it happened twice it would ruin the fantasy!)
