CHICAGO – My hotel room at Excalibur’s mammoth Tower II hovers directly above the swimming pool. As I woke up and undid the shades to get some patches of sunlight, two brunettes and one blonde playfully gathered around the jacuzzi.
I tried to ignore them and go about with the rest of my day, but it was impossible to ignore the fact that the three chicks were barely clothed. My Thursday couldn’t have started any better.
Tired of peeling too many dollars for cab fare, I went to Alamo rent-a-car near the airport and got me a ride. The attendant squeezed some $160 from my abused credit card and told me to “go to lot C and pick any SUV you want.”
I chose a 2006 Chevrolet Blazer. Spanking new and reeking with fine leather, the Chevy had only 407 miles on it. And the SUV was so big you can tuck the Sun.Star Cebu newsroom inside it.
Along with international matchmaker Sammy Gello-ani, I went to an eatery named Sariling Atin along Maryland Parkway for a sumptuous lunch. Sammy had nilagang manok and baka while I had lechon kawali and daing na bangus.
Shortly thereafter, at around 2:30 p.m., Leo Lastimosa called my cellphone and I went on-air at his Arangkada program at dyAB. An hour later, Sammy and I were in the media room at the Wynn resort and spa.
The media center was teeming with people I know. Steve Springer of the LA Times, Dan Rafael of ESPN and Recah Trinidad of the PDI. Lurking among these sportswriting gems was a diamond in the rough, Salven Lagumbay of CDN.
Quinito Henson stopped by and we did a little catching up. He’s here to anchor Solar Sports exclusive broadcast to the Philippines.
Another dyAB report beckoned at around 4 p.m., and at around 6:30 p.m., Salven, Sammy and I went to Tony Martin’s house at El Capitan Ranch, an affluent community not far from where Andre Agassi lives.
Tony, a huge boxing fan, used to live in Cebu. He was born British, but he has the soul of a Filipino: hospitable and very friendly. Tony is married to Yvonne, a registered nurse specializing in cardiac care. They have four beautiful children.
A very fat roasted chicken was the main course of a small dinner gathering.
There was also fish and lechon kawali, and a piece of French bread was there too, begging for it to be lathered in butter. The best part was the drink, a liter of Tanduay Rum.
The hours melted quickly at the Martin household, and before we knew it, midnight had crept and we headed home. I dropped off Salven at Bally’s, while Sammy and I retired at the Excalibur.
It was 1 a.m. when I crawled under the soft linen sheets. I felt a gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach. I diagnosed it as simply missing my son AJ, my two-year-old bundle of joy. I miss reading Barney stories for him at nighttime.
But before I could yearn further for my son, the toxins of alcohol were slowly rendering me unconscious.
Zzzzzzz.
