Never mind TMZ chasing Tom Brady through the streets of the East Village. We’ve seen separate items today about Wally Szczerbiak blowing off the Daily Oklahoman and Brandon Inge avoiding the phone calls of the Detroit News’ Lynne Henning.
Without denying the right of any athlete to their privacy, let’s spare a thought for the long suffering journalists. Being told Wally Sczerbiak won’t talk to you in 2008 is kind of like learning Foghat won’t allow flash photography.
Or that you have to wait at the bar while Corey Haim gets a table.
I once saw Foghat open for the Steve Miller (Blues) Band at the old Academy…where they had that pulsive strobe light blaring. Foghat boogied-on well past their alloted time and the potted crowd dug ’em.
A pissed off Steve Miller came out for his set and laid down on his back throughout his midling gigel…staring at the strobe and rambling on about shitty boogie music.
Then some flanneled cheeser cut a fladder in front of us as Miller was storming off stage…which made for a smelly but memorable show.