The G-Men, Eric Byrnes, and Sir

Man do the Giants stink. I woke up at 9:30 Sunday morning fired up as ever. After a long night of karaoke singing and an intense late night brawl (don't worry Chip, your prize son remains in tact) I was ready. This was it. No one comes into our house and pushes us around.

Three hours and about7 pitchers of bud/nattie/warm piss light later and I had watched the worst game I've ever seen.

I sent out this choice text message to some pals:

"I feel like I took the nastiest shit of my life and then realized there was no toilet paper."

I think that kind of summed it up pretty good. So anyway, I'm not going to talk any more about the Giants. That is simply depressing. Instead I'm going to tell you about my Friday night with Eric Byrnes, pictured below, maybe the coolest man in the world.

So I'm sitting there at one of San Fran's swankiest nightspots. It's me, Big Maciej, a few other pals and biscuits and the official small forward of Y2k. Big Fella calls me over to introduce me to his friend AP, a scout/video guy for the A's who will hopefully get me a job. (Note: Pops, tried calling you at home and in Connecticut. Of course when I tried the cell phone it was not on. Get your life together.)

This guy is the man, real friendly, I buy him a few drinks and we talk shop. He tells me how everyone thinks A-Rod is a joke for now deciding to play with the US. How Hudy is the man and Mulder is a jerk. He talks about his close frienship with Barry Zito who he describes as the most laid back coolest dude ever.

Then he tells me to hold on a second. He has a phone call.

It's Eric Byrnes.

"That was Byrnesy," he said. "He's going to come meet us."

I am so fired up. I love Byrnesy. OBF J Schubes loved him in B-more and I was dying to get him back at Shea. Salt.

So a half hour later and in walks the jack of clubs. Sporting a long sleeve t-shirt in San Fran's swankiest "spot", Byrnesy comes up to the bar. Me, MD, the scout and my pal Jeremy, in town from NY, are there taking some shots. Byrnesy roles up and gives everyone the most enthusiatic greeting I've ever seen:

"Sip, what up man? Let's rock out, brother."

This guy is the biggest combo of skateboarder and meathead that I've ever seen.

And he is the fucking man.

We all sit there for a little while having some drinks, talking shop.

"I must have nailed every girl in Baltimore," Byrnesy said. "Let's find some tail."

Byrnesy wandered off for a little while. I swear to god this guy is on liquid crack. Ordinarily, people just can't be that enthusiastic/happy naturally, but somehow he was. And he wasn't even really drinking. I think it's just natural to him.

About ten minutes later I go to take a piss where I see Byrnesy drowning the weasel himself.

"Byrnesy," I say. " I need a favor."

"Sure thing, Sip, what's up?"

"So my friend Jason is a diehard Baltimore Orioles fan and you were his guy. Let me get him on the horn and just give him a shout if you don't mind."

"Yeah no problem, man."

So I call J. It's about 11:30 PT, so 2:30 back on the East coast. I get his voice mail and start talking.

"Yo J it's Sip, live from the stall with your boy Byrnesy, hold on one second."

I pass Eric the phone and he says: "Hello... Jason you there?"

He's completely dumbfounded until I tell him that he is talking to a voicemail, that there is no one on the lie. He acknowledges that and in his Jeff Spikoli charm shouts, "Yo, Jason. What's up, brother? Fuck Baltimore and Fuck Peter Angelos. Later bro."

From there he passes me the phone and leads me to the bar where we rip a couple more shots and he signals me to come check out the scene.

Most of the rest of a night was a blur. The Big Fella took us to a strip club, then got us kicked out when he gently removed the bra of one of the workers, only to get my pal Jeremy, whose lap she was sitting on, almost killed by security cause they thought it was him.

Nonetheless, the night was fantastic.

Eric Byrnes always seemed like the coolest cat in the game, but now it can only be confirmed.

All is well out west. Today I have to call this guy with the A's who said he'll take care of me. Knock on wood I say. This could be the first step in the door.

Hope you all had a good weekend. A lot better than the New York football Giants.

As Camper Zach brilliantly put it in a post-loss text message, "At least Jack Bauer is coming back in a week".

Amen to that.

RIP G Baby

SM