There were between 15 and 20 NFL scouts at the First Draft Choice Bowl Saturday night in Seattle -- Andrew Luck of Stanford versus Jake Locker of Washington. As I mentioned earlier, Luck outplayed Locker badly and the Cardinal won in a rout, 41-0.
One team took the unusual step of having two scouts in attendance: Cleveland.
Play well while the floor is yours, Colt McCoy. Play very well.
I shared a dressing room with Rihanna Saturday.
On home Notre Dame Saturdays, I dress for the NBC halftime segment in the room where my TV clothes are stored, along with Rodney Harrison's and Tony Dungy's. That's also the room where the star of Saturday Night Live dresses. [You may remember 51 weeks ago how I stepped on Taylor Swift's red gown in the same dressing room. Then again, if you have a life, you may not.] This week, the star was Rihanna. After the Notre Dame halftime show, I went back in the room to change, and I was nearly through when a woman, maybe 28, walks in and, with a look of You are NOT supposed to be in here, says, "Ohhhh. Uh, this is Rihanna's dressing room.''
"I'm almost done,'' I said. "One minute.''
"This was supposed to be locked,'' she said, annoyed, and turned and closed the door.
To the closed door, I called out, "I didn't steal anything. It wouldn't really fit me.''
So my Montclair buddy Jack Bowers and California daughter, Laura, took a busman's holiday Thursday to see World Series Game 2 at AT&T Park in San Francisco. A great trip. The highlights:
Rode two cable cars.
Smelled marijuana near Fisherman's Wharf.
Stood at the northeast corner of Clay and Sansome streets near the Embarcadero and could see three Starbucks within 50 yards -- one to my left, one straight ahead, and one to my right -- all the while evading people trying to enter Peet's right behind me.
Smelled marijuana near Lefty O'Doul's, the quaint only-in-San Francisco bar-cafeteria downtown.
Learned to like Fat Tire Amber Ale, thanks to a tap at Lefty O'Doul's.
Saw the greatest collection of T-shirts and signs ever at a ballgame. Overnight, Cody Ross has been immortalized on T-shirts all over town (As THE BOSS.) A bar two blocks up from the park advertised on its signboard: "Josh Hamilton Drinks Free.'' Everyone had fake jet-black beards in honor of closer Brian Wilson, he of the jet black beard. Saw lots of "TIMMY SMOKE'' T-shirt with marijuana leaves on them, in honor of Tim Lincecum getting pinched on a marijuana charge last year. Think that doesn't make him a favorite of the locals?
Loved the ballpark and the fans and the atmosphere and the cove and the center-field denizens. [See photo of me with my new, uh, hairy friend.] I've been to big sports events before where the fans have more of an interest in saying they were at the game than actually being into the game. That was one intense crowd, from the first pitch. The cutest 5-year-old girl in our row was clutching and pounding her glove, waiting for a ball all night, and never missed one pitch.
Learned I might be able to manage better than Ron Washington. Giants led 2-0 in the bottom of the eighth. Two out. No one on. Buster Posey singles. Pitching change. In comes lefty setup guy Derek Holland. Four straight balls to Nate Schierholtz. Men on first and second. Up comes Cody Ross, hottest bat in the Giant postseason. Ball one. Ball two. Ball three. "He's got to warm up Feliz,'' I say. [Neftali Feliz, the trusted closer.] Nope. Ball four. Bases loaded. Eight balls, no strikes. NO ONE WARMING UP. NOT FELIZ, NOT ANYONE.
Up comes Aubrey Huff. Ball. Ball. Ball. At some point here, righty reliever Mark Lowe sprints out to the bullpen from the dugout and starts speed-throwing. Foul. Ball four. Twelve balls, one strike. Run in. Now it's 3-0. Still a game. Where is Feliz? Texas is still in the game; only 3-0, and there's an off-day tomorrow, and they need one out -- one measly out ... and you're telling me it's not an important enough out to get Feliz up?
Rangers stall for time. Now comes Washington to yank Holland. In comes Lowe. Up comes Juan Uribe. He walks. FOUR WALKS IN A ROW. HAVE I EVER SEEN THAT IN A GAME BEFORE? PROBABLY, BUT NEVER IN A GAME OF THIS MAGNITUDE. Giants, 4-0. No Feliz. A white flag in the World Series, with your 4-5-6 hitters due. I don't understand. Edgar Renteria singles; 6-0. Somebody with the last name "Kirkman'' comes in next. Aaron Rowand pinch-hits a triple. Giants, 8-0. Andrews Torres doubles. Giants, 9-0. Neat note of the inning: Freddy Sanchez, who struck out swinging to make the second out, strikes out swinging to make the third out. Not a good frame, Ron.
Smelled marijuana walking out of the park, then a block later on Second Avenue, walking from the stadium.
I feel the same way about San Francisco as I do about San Diego, which is my favorite Super Bowl city. Can the Giants make the World Series every year? Please?
Postscript: Ten hours after walking out of the stadium, I'm sitting in New York Jets special teams coach Mike Westhoff's office in suburban New Jersey, interviewing him for a story. Isn't it a wonderful travel world?
"NFL apologists alert: This will be 9th WS winner in last 10 years. How many times has NFL had 9 champs in 10 years? Nada.''
--@jaysonst, Jayson Stark, the estimable ESPN.com major-league baseball analyst and a writer whose stuff I've long admired.
Having said that, I submit my MLB apologists alert:
Including this year, the last 15 seasons have produced nine different World Series winners. The last 15 NFL seasons have produced 11 different Super Bowl winners.
--@AdrianPeterson, Vikings running back Adrian Peterson, after Minnesota's 28-18 loss in New England Sunday.