I can't leave Philly without a Philly Cheesesteak. Unfortunately, I waited until nearly 1 a.m. to order it and it won't be here til 1:30. So that leaves time to start a new column on the blog, Road Diaries. This is where I'll put all the strange, surreal, sometimes illegal things that happen on the road this season.
For instance, the first trip of the sesaon to Toronto. I was stepping off the plane when Garin Narain, Cavs media relations man, called to see if I was coming to practice in Independence because it was wrapping a little early. Having my hands full, I reached for my phone ... and dropped it. It hit the brace that holds the seats on the plane and cracked the screen.
Now, I hadn't even paid for the phone yet and I had already busted it, which left my wife thrilled. It's one of those phones that could blow up a bomb inside a camel in Iraq, but I can barely figure out how to answer voicemail on it. Now since I'm in Toronto, it's not like there's a Sprint store around the corner from the Rogers Centre. Or any corner for that matter. There isn't a Sprint store anywhere in the 3,855,103 square miles (or 9,984,670 square kilometers) that make up Canada. That left me without a phone for a few days and left me in serious withdrawal.
Then I get to the arena on game night, put my bag on the table for the security guard to check it and tag it. Apparently in Canada, part of the bag search requirement includes testing the durability and functionality of both the computer and the computer bag. I no sooner sat the bag on the counter and he gave it a forearm shiver right off the table. It was so fast, it almost seemed intentional. Luckily, the computer still works, otherwise I would've had a few statements for the customs guard that asked me if I had anything to declare on my way out.
Check back tomorrow for a report on the bellmen at the Airport Marriott in Philly. One doubles as a cab driver while he's on the clock and the other is a narcoleptic who locks the shuttle van and takes naps when no one is watching.
And by the way, Road Diaries is a pretty bland name, I agree. But it's 1 a.m., I'm starving and I've got at least another hour of work ahead of me, so forgive me if I'm not feeling overly creative. If you can do better, leave a suggestion here or tweet me at ABJCavsInsider. If it's good enough, I'll change it.
Perfect timing. The cheesesteak is early.