(no subject)
continuing from yesterday's post,
day 1 of the NCAA tournament was a busy day, but more than certainly a fun one.
i'd read the night before that the hotel offers a "tempting a la carte continental breakfast" from 6-10am in the lobby. so, i set my alarm for 9 to snatch me some brekkers. being in a different time zone, i'd had difficulty falling asleep the night before, so i didn't nod off til after three. however, the prospect of this breakfast outweighed any wishes for continued sleep. so, i forced myself out of bed, dressed, and made my way downstairs. after putting a bagel in the toaster, picking up a yogurt and a danish pastry, i made my way for the coffee, when a hotel employee behind the set-up asked me if i wanted anything to drink. taken off guard and slightly suspicious of this fairly strange question--from her position, she was clearly not physically able to pour me anything to drink--but i answered yes all the same. She responded by telling me that i owed her $9.72. what the fuck? clearly i was unclear on the definition of "continental;" i'd been under the impression that a continental breakfast is a free breakfast. dazed, i looked over the receipt--3 dollars for a fucking cup of Yoplait? and, if that wasn't enough, this was NOT INCLUDING THE COFFEE! yes, she'd spaced on the coffee, misunderstood what i'd thought to be a fairly straightforward answer of "just coffee please." 10 bucks. fucking unbelievable.
after this strangely disconcerting breakfast, i went back up to my room, showered and reviewed the game times for the day. the first game started at 10:40, but Gonzaga didn't play until after five. so, i took my time, and mended up the pockets in my brown polyester jacket, so that my keys, cigarettes, and other valuable items wouldn't fall through. i left the hotel for the university around noon, so that i'd have a few hours to explore, take pictures, and perhaps even interview a couple people coming to see gonzaga. and, if i felt like it, i could watch some of the earlier games from the floor. i caught the overtime and double overtime in the boston college / pacific game -- jesus christ, what a comeback. boston tied the first overtime with seconds to go, and in the double overtime came out with a double-digit lead. those pacific kids were REALLY upset; they filed by me heading to the locker room and some were literally crying. poor kids.
at this point it came to my attention that the people sitting on the endzone floors had special green armbands -- so i spent the next few hours attempting to acquire one for the gonzaga match, again getting the royal runaround from ALL involved. they'd tell me to go to one place, then that person would tell me to go somewhere else, then they'd tell me to go back to where i'd started. as it turns out, your spot on the floor is already designated with a sticker, which is apparently prearranged. then when you sit down, THAT"s when you get your armband. this is highly counterintuitive to the posted rules stating, "ONLY PHOTOGRAPHERS WITH ARMBANDS WILL BE ALLOWED IN THE ENDZONES." really, it should be that only photographers in the endzone will be given armbands. whatever.
after a while i began to look for people to interview, namely any GU alumni / students i could find. i spent a good deal of time walking around looking for people in gonzaga sweatshirts. this proved highly inefficient, as the ones i did spot were either busy or walking the other way. then, when walking outside i came across a group of middle aged folk sporting zags pins/signs. "Say, are you here for the zags?" i asked, following up with a photo-op request. they turned out to be alumni, and consented for a short interview. then, they mentioned that they were on their way to the alumni PRE-FUNK. we all proceeded to walk towards the GU ALUMNI MOTHER LODE, where i took a bunch of pictures, interviewed like 12 people and drank a couple cans of Miller High Life, and ate a sandwich and ate some pasta salad. as it turns out, 2 people from this group were born in the same hospital i was in Iowa City, and another lived in the town where my sister went to college. crazy. i had some good conversations with these folks -- good people.
i headed back to the stadium an hour before GU's game time, and figured out my position on the floor. i got to listen to the Xavier and GU jazz bands practice, and some of their stuff was pretty kickin'--it helped too that they were literally 4 feet above my head, so the drumbeat resonated in my chest.
the game itself was excellent. EXTREMELY neck and neck the whole way though; in the second half the team started to pull their shit together and ended up with a four point lead with not a whole lot of time left. intense fucking game.
after the game i came back to the hotel and pretty much crashed; i'd planned on tracking down some alumni/student parties to photograph, but i was exhausted. during the game, i was in the second row of photographers, so i had to crouch on my knees as standing was forbidden and sitting was not a palatable option. i ordered pizza and watched the simpsons and espn.
today was more or less an off day; i watched a press conference w/ the players and mark few, then walked around "downtown" salt lake. i took a tour of temple square, and picked up a few pamphlets. later on i watched a marathon of the shield, ordered chinese and attempted to find a pub to celebrate paddy's day. after walking around a BUNCH, i finally found a place that would meet my criteria: DUFFY'S TAVERN. upon entering, i thought, "this will be the perfect place to drink a pint of stout, smoke a few fags, then call it a night. No. apparently in Utah, you need a fucking membership to drink at any bar. A FUCKING MEMBERSHIP. no one night passes, the smallest increment of time is a two week membership, and it costs four dollars. i'm not going to pay four dollars to some fucking dive so that i can pay five more for a single drink in my pathetic attempt to celebrate st patrick's day. so i walked to 7-11, bought two 24 ouncers of Miller High Life, a pack of smokes, and walked back here, getting lost not in the streets but the HOTEL ITSELF. this place is huge and labyrinthine. so now, i'm sitting alone in a huge room, drinking cheap beer and listening to Against Me! i had a small epiphany when i was watching the shield earlier, and that is this:
I would take La Quinta in Kennewick with Sarah Sevedge any night of the week over this huge cushy room in SLC all by my lonesome.
I realized this when i was chuckling to myself during the shield -- what good is laughing if there's nobody there to hear you?
anyway, i'm going to go drink my other beer and watch the Disney Channel.
chris
day 1 of the NCAA tournament was a busy day, but more than certainly a fun one.
i'd read the night before that the hotel offers a "tempting a la carte continental breakfast" from 6-10am in the lobby. so, i set my alarm for 9 to snatch me some brekkers. being in a different time zone, i'd had difficulty falling asleep the night before, so i didn't nod off til after three. however, the prospect of this breakfast outweighed any wishes for continued sleep. so, i forced myself out of bed, dressed, and made my way downstairs. after putting a bagel in the toaster, picking up a yogurt and a danish pastry, i made my way for the coffee, when a hotel employee behind the set-up asked me if i wanted anything to drink. taken off guard and slightly suspicious of this fairly strange question--from her position, she was clearly not physically able to pour me anything to drink--but i answered yes all the same. She responded by telling me that i owed her $9.72. what the fuck? clearly i was unclear on the definition of "continental;" i'd been under the impression that a continental breakfast is a free breakfast. dazed, i looked over the receipt--3 dollars for a fucking cup of Yoplait? and, if that wasn't enough, this was NOT INCLUDING THE COFFEE! yes, she'd spaced on the coffee, misunderstood what i'd thought to be a fairly straightforward answer of "just coffee please." 10 bucks. fucking unbelievable.
after this strangely disconcerting breakfast, i went back up to my room, showered and reviewed the game times for the day. the first game started at 10:40, but Gonzaga didn't play until after five. so, i took my time, and mended up the pockets in my brown polyester jacket, so that my keys, cigarettes, and other valuable items wouldn't fall through. i left the hotel for the university around noon, so that i'd have a few hours to explore, take pictures, and perhaps even interview a couple people coming to see gonzaga. and, if i felt like it, i could watch some of the earlier games from the floor. i caught the overtime and double overtime in the boston college / pacific game -- jesus christ, what a comeback. boston tied the first overtime with seconds to go, and in the double overtime came out with a double-digit lead. those pacific kids were REALLY upset; they filed by me heading to the locker room and some were literally crying. poor kids.
at this point it came to my attention that the people sitting on the endzone floors had special green armbands -- so i spent the next few hours attempting to acquire one for the gonzaga match, again getting the royal runaround from ALL involved. they'd tell me to go to one place, then that person would tell me to go somewhere else, then they'd tell me to go back to where i'd started. as it turns out, your spot on the floor is already designated with a sticker, which is apparently prearranged. then when you sit down, THAT"s when you get your armband. this is highly counterintuitive to the posted rules stating, "ONLY PHOTOGRAPHERS WITH ARMBANDS WILL BE ALLOWED IN THE ENDZONES." really, it should be that only photographers in the endzone will be given armbands. whatever.
after a while i began to look for people to interview, namely any GU alumni / students i could find. i spent a good deal of time walking around looking for people in gonzaga sweatshirts. this proved highly inefficient, as the ones i did spot were either busy or walking the other way. then, when walking outside i came across a group of middle aged folk sporting zags pins/signs. "Say, are you here for the zags?" i asked, following up with a photo-op request. they turned out to be alumni, and consented for a short interview. then, they mentioned that they were on their way to the alumni PRE-FUNK. we all proceeded to walk towards the GU ALUMNI MOTHER LODE, where i took a bunch of pictures, interviewed like 12 people and drank a couple cans of Miller High Life, and ate a sandwich and ate some pasta salad. as it turns out, 2 people from this group were born in the same hospital i was in Iowa City, and another lived in the town where my sister went to college. crazy. i had some good conversations with these folks -- good people.
i headed back to the stadium an hour before GU's game time, and figured out my position on the floor. i got to listen to the Xavier and GU jazz bands practice, and some of their stuff was pretty kickin'--it helped too that they were literally 4 feet above my head, so the drumbeat resonated in my chest.
the game itself was excellent. EXTREMELY neck and neck the whole way though; in the second half the team started to pull their shit together and ended up with a four point lead with not a whole lot of time left. intense fucking game.
after the game i came back to the hotel and pretty much crashed; i'd planned on tracking down some alumni/student parties to photograph, but i was exhausted. during the game, i was in the second row of photographers, so i had to crouch on my knees as standing was forbidden and sitting was not a palatable option. i ordered pizza and watched the simpsons and espn.
today was more or less an off day; i watched a press conference w/ the players and mark few, then walked around "downtown" salt lake. i took a tour of temple square, and picked up a few pamphlets. later on i watched a marathon of the shield, ordered chinese and attempted to find a pub to celebrate paddy's day. after walking around a BUNCH, i finally found a place that would meet my criteria: DUFFY'S TAVERN. upon entering, i thought, "this will be the perfect place to drink a pint of stout, smoke a few fags, then call it a night. No. apparently in Utah, you need a fucking membership to drink at any bar. A FUCKING MEMBERSHIP. no one night passes, the smallest increment of time is a two week membership, and it costs four dollars. i'm not going to pay four dollars to some fucking dive so that i can pay five more for a single drink in my pathetic attempt to celebrate st patrick's day. so i walked to 7-11, bought two 24 ouncers of Miller High Life, a pack of smokes, and walked back here, getting lost not in the streets but the HOTEL ITSELF. this place is huge and labyrinthine. so now, i'm sitting alone in a huge room, drinking cheap beer and listening to Against Me! i had a small epiphany when i was watching the shield earlier, and that is this:
I would take La Quinta in Kennewick with Sarah Sevedge any night of the week over this huge cushy room in SLC all by my lonesome.
I realized this when i was chuckling to myself during the shield -- what good is laughing if there's nobody there to hear you?
anyway, i'm going to go drink my other beer and watch the Disney Channel.
chris