My 15 Minutes Of Very Courageous Fame

For the record, Corby took this picture
and tweeted it. I was somewhat more
twitter famous than I already am.

For those of you that aren't from the Dallas area, or have little to no knowledge (or better yet, interest) in the radio station, The Ticket, then I'm afraid this post just isn't for you. Not that you won't get to hear the great exploits of yours truly, you probably just won't resonate with my level of excitement. This was and is a fair warning. If I get complaints, then so help me......

Okay so this happened, ugh, almost two months ago. Why am I just now getting around to writing about it? I don't know. Stuff's happened. I'm not even in Chicago anymore. Is that a good excuse? Nope. Didn't think so, considering I had more than enough time to write about it there. Listen, I'm not proud of my decision, it just kind of happened that way. Ya know what? I'll take some of the blame off of me. It happened almost a month-and-a-half ago. There, that's better. But what happened a month-and-a-half ago? I think I mentioned something about The Ticket, America's favorite radio station.

Because the MLB is extra silly this year and for years to come and forever will be silly, Interleague Play is just a regular thing now. Instead of having just a weird two weeks of what feels like no consequence playing and withholding your DH because the National League is basically pointless, that happens more like three times every month now. Maybe more. I kid you not, I kind of just zone out during those games. Except back in April it actually mattered, because The Rangers were going to playing the Cubs in Chicago (hey, that's where I am was!). This was some exciting news, because it gave me an excuse to head up to Wrigley (besides searching the grounds for a Henry Rowengartner statue THAT ISN'T EVEN THERE!) and not feel like a tourist. But what really sweetened the deal was that one of my favorite things from home (besides Rangers baseball) would also be there: The Hardline.

It's hard to explain what's so great about not only The Hardline, but also The Ticket to those who don't listen. It's sports radio that doesn't cling to every necessity of being sports radio. Which is apparently a turn off for some people. To put it in terms we can all agree on, ESPN radio would be Leno's show and The Ticket would be Conan's (this only applies to those who have the option of listening to either; and for those curious The Fan is like Carson Daly). Except The Ticket isn't just about sports; The Ticket is Catnip for guys/men/boys. And oddly enough most women. My mom listens to The Ticket more than I do, and I couldn't be more proud. If you have any interest in pursuing premium radio content go to The Unticket and take some time to listen to some segments. And bits. Because bits are fun.

But anyway yeah, The Hardline was going to be live from Chicago, and I could go see them do the radio LIVE! Now to some of you, that'd be pretty boring and maybe even a little stupid, but I'm a P1 who needed some Ticket inside of him. Also, remember that Catnip metaphor? (bet you weren't expecting to read that today) I was ecstatic, especially because I had no projects I needed to work on so I could listen and watch with a guilt-free conscience. And even if I did have any big projects I needed to work on, I'm sure I could've talked myself into putting it off. So it was April 15, it was day one for The Hardline and there was no game, but they were still broadcasting from the Capt. Morgan Club attached to Wrigley (it feels oddly specific, but you should know where they were broadcasting; if I didn't tell you, that'd just be bad storytelling). I got out of class at....4:50, already an hour and twenty minutes into The Hardline and I was gettin' a nervous. Well, maybe antsy is a better adjective. Yeah, I was feelin' antsy, because time is precious! But I got to where they were broadcasting in about 15 minutes. I then scrambled nervously for about another 10 minutes thinking it was impossible to get in to the CMC, but I got in with necessary assistance by my new P1 buddy Lane. I can't thank you enough Lane. Without you, none of this would be possible.


Now with Lane and I was one other person, AP(@SportsGreek), another new founded P1 buddy. And that was it. Besides the three members of The Hardline and their fill-in engineer. There could be a lot of reasons for this: it was pretty rainy out that day, it was also a monday, people were busy, etc, etc. It was fun, it was exciting. It was having a piece of home come to you not through the evil clutches of iHeartRadio. Once 6:50 rolled around we moseyed on over to their broadcasting table and thanked them for coming out to Chicago and for all the great listening they provide us with. It was fun times, YEAH!

The second day was not so great. It wasn't rainy out like the day before. In fact, it was pretty nice out. It was a nice day for baseball. And all-in-all, that's what it was supposed to be about considering that there was a game that day. However this seeing The Hardline that day, I was presented with some obstacles. Actually there was just one. And it was getting into the Capt. Morgan Club. Funny thing about bars: they don't really like people under the age of 21 being inside of them. Even when the sun is up, they kind of frown upon it. Which I understand. It's the law. It's also one of the few things to have ever crushed my dreams into a fine powder and then sneezed into my face, going into my eyes and causing me to cry. Okay, so I didn't really cry, but I was defeated when I was told I wasn't allowed to come in, just to listen to my favorite radio station. It didn't even cross my mind to try and sneak a booze drink to myself, I just wanted to listen to The Hardline. And through the magic of twitter, and looking awfully sad, it happened.

I don't know exactly what happened, seeing as how iHeartRadio has a major delay in the streaming and live broadcasting, but I was allowed in and the only way I was able to be in there was by taking on the title as "Hardline Mascot" (Danny, Corby and Mike's words, not mine..... at first). Thank God for this stupid hair, again, huh?! Huh. Hmmmm. Anyway, my duties as "Hardline Mascot" were sitting next to the great Mike Rhyner, being asked what segments were coming up next by drunkards, keeping to myself and not getting in the way (self-inflicted), soaking in this awesome experience. I was the subject of envy to dozens of people. The number of times I made eye contact with guys 10, 15 even 20-years-older than I was something I'll never try to forget. Oh God, I've become a power Mongol, haven't I?! The closest thing I can compare this experience to is probably Almost Famous. I got to sit in and be *that* much closer to people who aren't terribly well known as I and others think they should be. And I even got to do it without all the Penny Lane bullsh-drama! I think. Meh, not really.

For three straight days, I was at the table sitting where many wish they could be, but I feel like I handled myself better than most. I always let the game come to me, I never inserted any hot sports opinions into the mix, because that could've made admittance an even bigger uncertainty. The only time I ever talked to Corby, Danny, and Mike was whenever they addressed me. And it was cool. No, eff it. It was awesome! They are three of the coolest guys I've ever been fortunate enough to interact with on the celebrity tier of life (for an extended amount of time). What really fascinated me was the patience they have, because as I mentioned before, there were many-a-drunkards there. The number of mundane questions I heard just from sitting on the side lines....I don't know how they do it. It's almost amazing that they're able to filter in as much as they can, because the alcohol-fueled mundaneness comes in waves upon waves upon waves.

I remember having this epiphany when I was sitting up there with them, how almost insulting it is that as many people were there, because of alcohol being served. It's crazy to me. It's couk-coo-bannanas. Maybe it's because I'm under 21 (though someone did buy me a beer, to which I respectfully declined; they didn't know so don't set out a search party, all you Chicago cops who read this)? But even then, why you wouldn't stay to listen and interact with them is nutso to me. Perhaps my ignorance to the life of fame is whats holding me back from comprehension. Or maybe those people are just douche bags and I don't understand them. I like the latter.

If I have one regret from the time I got to spend with The Hardline, it's probably not skipping class on Wednesday to get there earlier than what I could. Though if there's one thing I 'm proud of, it's laughing as hard as I did at a Wire reference that seemed to catch Mike off of his guard. If any of you up at The Ticket are reading this, know that I'm down for Wire talk or any TV talk whenever you're in Chicago again. I couldn't be more grateful for my Almost Famous experience and getting able to Womp up the jams in my own way. Also, sorry for assuming I was on a first name basis with you guys. Just wanted to keep it kash (how I think casual is spelled phonetically). Thank you again, and stay hard.