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Hail
In another attempt to deflect attention from what I fear will be a depressing off-season, I would like to share a tidbit from my earlier days regarding one of our beloved B&G's Super Bowl runs, specifically, the record setting '87 win over John Elway's Broncos. We all (I hope) know the story of the game; the never to be equaled 35 point second quarter, the sudden emergence of Timmy Smith (!?!) into the national spotlight, etc etc. My tale is singular and specific, in that it involves not the game itself but what preceded it, if only marginally.
At that time I was in my second year of college, at Orange Coast in Costa Mesa California. I was a walk-on LT hoping to crack the starting lineup of a middling JC program. I was also working as a security guard for income; more specifically I worked two shifts for American Protective Services. During the day (classes allowing) I worked the lobby of one Pacific Savings Bank, a beautiful Spanish ranch building in downtown Costa Mesa, where my primary duties were to be attentive, look decent and direct business people to the appropriate areas as they entered the rotunda. My night shift is irrelevant to this tale, so will go unmentioned henceforth.
This property was and I believe still is a favored spot for businesses of all kinds to conduct banquets, luncheons, what have you, given that just off the entryway was a very large area designed solely for that purpose. On occasion I would show up on Mondays and in the course of my infrequent rounds enter said area to find detritus from such events. Sometimes there would even be edible catering leftovers - no small delicacy to an athlete such as myself who was still growing and accordingly always hungry lol. Every so often I would find certain mementos as well; flyers, brochures of this or that mixed with polaroids of dignitaries attending the recent festivities. This in and of itself is unremarkable, save one. With the 'Skins slated to face the Broncos at Jack Murphy Stadium (now Qualcomm) in San Diego that year, I heard rumors of a pre-Super Bowl party to be held at my workplace. It was to be a Saturday night. I never worked weekends there, but I had the full setup for a rent-a-cop, right down to the badge and police-issue coat emblazoned with my company name and logo. In short, at casual glance I could have passed muster, if only for a second. I knew a party was going to happen but not much more than that, and even though it sounded like so many corporate sponsors glad handing each other the way they love to do, a part of me wondered if I shouldn't try to crash it.
Bear in mind that even though APS wasn't on the docket for site security I felt confident I could get close enough to rub elbows with the hoi polloi. After some wiggle-waggling, however, I decided against the atttempt. Much to my eventual chagrin, as it turned out. The weekend came and went, I showed up the following Monday as usual, and when lunchtime arrived unlocked the door to the reception area and wandered in. There were a ton of munchies, a lot of balloons, streamers, etc...along with the aforementioned pics. MANY of them. One of the first handful I glanced at showed very clearly John Elway himself with his arm around someone of no repute. My curiosity very much aroused, I began sweeping the room with a vengeance, and it wasn't too long before I came across a photo of what looked like either Todd Bowles or Barry Wilburn, again with an arm around somebody or other. I can't be sure, nor do I still possess said picture, but I had my confirmation. The party wasn't your run of the mill sponsor gathering. It featured the big boys themselves. At least some of them.
I gathered up every pic I could find that showed a player or what I thought might be one, and carried them home after work to keep as proof of my near brush with greatness. As fate would have it, I later lost them to a storage repossession some years later, but while I have no way to prove it, I know what I saw and what I carried out of that room. For years afterward I mentally kicked myself when I thought of the chance I had to perhaps shake hands with a Redskin or two. The reality probably would've ended with me being booted off the premises and perhaps even losing my job in the bargain, but the opportunity wasted left a residue that took me a long time to shake off. That's my story, such as it is, and it's all true. Thanks for reading. Cheers.
In another attempt to deflect attention from what I fear will be a depressing off-season, I would like to share a tidbit from my earlier days regarding one of our beloved B&G's Super Bowl runs, specifically, the record setting '87 win over John Elway's Broncos. We all (I hope) know the story of the game; the never to be equaled 35 point second quarter, the sudden emergence of Timmy Smith (!?!) into the national spotlight, etc etc. My tale is singular and specific, in that it involves not the game itself but what preceded it, if only marginally.
At that time I was in my second year of college, at Orange Coast in Costa Mesa California. I was a walk-on LT hoping to crack the starting lineup of a middling JC program. I was also working as a security guard for income; more specifically I worked two shifts for American Protective Services. During the day (classes allowing) I worked the lobby of one Pacific Savings Bank, a beautiful Spanish ranch building in downtown Costa Mesa, where my primary duties were to be attentive, look decent and direct business people to the appropriate areas as they entered the rotunda. My night shift is irrelevant to this tale, so will go unmentioned henceforth.
This property was and I believe still is a favored spot for businesses of all kinds to conduct banquets, luncheons, what have you, given that just off the entryway was a very large area designed solely for that purpose. On occasion I would show up on Mondays and in the course of my infrequent rounds enter said area to find detritus from such events. Sometimes there would even be edible catering leftovers - no small delicacy to an athlete such as myself who was still growing and accordingly always hungry lol. Every so often I would find certain mementos as well; flyers, brochures of this or that mixed with polaroids of dignitaries attending the recent festivities. This in and of itself is unremarkable, save one. With the 'Skins slated to face the Broncos at Jack Murphy Stadium (now Qualcomm) in San Diego that year, I heard rumors of a pre-Super Bowl party to be held at my workplace. It was to be a Saturday night. I never worked weekends there, but I had the full setup for a rent-a-cop, right down to the badge and police-issue coat emblazoned with my company name and logo. In short, at casual glance I could have passed muster, if only for a second. I knew a party was going to happen but not much more than that, and even though it sounded like so many corporate sponsors glad handing each other the way they love to do, a part of me wondered if I shouldn't try to crash it.
Bear in mind that even though APS wasn't on the docket for site security I felt confident I could get close enough to rub elbows with the hoi polloi. After some wiggle-waggling, however, I decided against the atttempt. Much to my eventual chagrin, as it turned out. The weekend came and went, I showed up the following Monday as usual, and when lunchtime arrived unlocked the door to the reception area and wandered in. There were a ton of munchies, a lot of balloons, streamers, etc...along with the aforementioned pics. MANY of them. One of the first handful I glanced at showed very clearly John Elway himself with his arm around someone of no repute. My curiosity very much aroused, I began sweeping the room with a vengeance, and it wasn't too long before I came across a photo of what looked like either Todd Bowles or Barry Wilburn, again with an arm around somebody or other. I can't be sure, nor do I still possess said picture, but I had my confirmation. The party wasn't your run of the mill sponsor gathering. It featured the big boys themselves. At least some of them.
I gathered up every pic I could find that showed a player or what I thought might be one, and carried them home after work to keep as proof of my near brush with greatness. As fate would have it, I later lost them to a storage repossession some years later, but while I have no way to prove it, I know what I saw and what I carried out of that room. For years afterward I mentally kicked myself when I thought of the chance I had to perhaps shake hands with a Redskin or two. The reality probably would've ended with me being booted off the premises and perhaps even losing my job in the bargain, but the opportunity wasted left a residue that took me a long time to shake off. That's my story, such as it is, and it's all true. Thanks for reading. Cheers.
