Last night the Eli Manning and the New York Giants took home the Lombardi Trophy yet again. I confess I didn't care that much, being a Bears fan, but I was rooting for Eli because, well, I hate Tom Brady. And as I always say, Eli Manning has to be one of the top . . . I don't know, seven Mannings in the NFL.
But recently on a trip to WDW, the New England Patriots own Wes Welker played an important role in a night at ESPN Club on the Boardwalk. So since I do feel like I owe ol' Wes, here's a little tribute to the man. And for those in the know, this comes right out of the book, so enjoy a little sneak peek.
The new shift of bartenders had arrived by now and we began a little casual banter. It turned out 2 out of 3 of them were from my neck of the woods, Chicago. My advice, wear a Bears tee any time you visit Walt Disney World (or any Chicago team for that matter.) As I learned, many of my neighbors are apparently expatriating from snow and wind to the sunny Southeast. And as you'll learn, we're damn nice people! I've had more friendly comments and greetings just because I was wearing a Bears shirt at the World than when I've worn any of the Fab 5. This evening was no exception.
As I was sipping my second . . . err, thir. . . okay, fourth Tee-Off (top-shelf vodka, gin, rum, triple sec, energy drink, and a splash of cola. Essentially a Long Island with a kick of Three Mile Island. Damn tasty, and good for a second wind when you flew in on a pre-dawn flight.) I noticed the audio playing over my head was not from any of the broadcasts on ESPN, ESPN 2, or any ESPN all the way up through ESPN 37. It was considerably louder and sounded almost like the announcer was talking about things a bit more local. As in, right next to me! That's when I learned the coolest thing about this joint next to the awesome bathrooms!
Disney's ESPN Club is a fully equipped broadcasting studio. In the main dining room to your left there's a stage where the ESPN staple morning show Mike & Mike in the Morning broadcasts live throughout the year. However more than those occasional productions, there is a functional radio booth in the middle of the restaurant where a professional sports radio personality broadcasts throughout the evening to the restaurant.
I spotted the face that matched the audio I was hearing on one of the monitors and realized over his shoulder on the screen, I could see the bar. I spun around on my stool and saw this show was happening right behind me. He was talking a mix of current sports news and announcing special events at the club as well as around Walt Disney World. And then he said the words that hit a man right in the heart, “how'd you like to say you got something for free down here?”
I've made no illusions that a Disney vacation is cheap. They offer options to make them more affordable, but that by no means equates to inexpensive. I stand firmly by the belief that any dollar spent at Walt Disney World is well spent indeed and you get full value for the cost. But still, hearing the word “free” is rare, and when heard causes heart palpitations and sweaty palms.
The announcer in the booth was going to be giving away prizes to anyone who could be the first to answer the progressive trivia questions he'd be throwing up on the monitors. On a number of the screens around the restaurant a series of clues began to appear. Unfortunately after the first three, I still had no idea what or in this case who the correct answer was. That's where being a Chicagoan paid off, yet again. One of my new best friends behind the bar leaned over and asked if I knew the answer. I assured him I had not a clue.
“Wes Walker,” he whispered to me.
“Wes Walker?” I repeated with confusion.
“Just go up and tell him,” he smiled. “But don't tell him I told you. Trust me.”
I nodded, still a little uncertain and headed for the booth. The announcer was standing outside of it, talking to a group of Navy boys on leave for the weekend.
Great, I thought. Not only was I cheating, I was going to cheat in front this group of REAL men. Brave service men, men of character, who would lay down their lives for my freedom, and would never cheat at bar trivia. I thought about aborting this particular mission when the announcer and I locked eyes. It was too late to alter course.
“You have an answer for me?” he asked, loudly.
I did my best to act like I was remembering an almost forgotten factoid. I boldly nodded and answered him.
“Isn't it, um, Wes Walker?” I mumbled nervously.
“Wes who?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow.
Damn it, I was busted! I had better turn tail and run out of the bar, swim across the lake to catch a bus and get away before he sicked the SEAL team on me for trying to cheat the other guests out of free t-shirt.
“Wes . . . Walker,” I said again.
“You mean Welker,” he started with a knowing grin. “Wes Welker of the New England Patriots.”
“That's it,” I said, trying to save myself.
“I need to hear you say it,” he told me.
“Wes Welker,” I said again. “From the Patriots." I don't know what came over me, but seeing I might survive this ruse, I decided to carry it a little further, for effect.
"Look, I'm a Bears fan," I said. "Since 85. I'm not even allowed to know a Patriot's name.”
He laughed. The Navy guys laughed. I breathed a deep sigh of relief. I'd pulled it off. He ushered me into the booth and handed me my t-shirt. We actually got to talking and he asked if I was really from Chicago. The dj's name was John and turned out he's got a son in the Chi also. The shirt, incidentally he told me, is one of kind, not available for sale. Only available to be won by unscrupulous patrons willing to lie and cheat for any piece of free swag with the word Walt Disney World printed across the back.
Of course, I have no proof and don't quote me here if you try it yourself because I'll disavow any knowledge that I wrote it, but I have a feeling this was not the first or last time a guest was given clandestine assistance by a Cast Member in a harmless trivia contest.
In fact, I'd bet it happens everyday, and management is probably cheerily aware of it. This shirt wasn't exactly sewn with golden threads. And besides, they only had XL. Which, if you've seen me you know is perfect for one of my calves if I needed a leg warmer. Still, it made a nice gift for my father-in-law.
A few minutes later, Joe came out into the bar and we started talking some more. This was a big day in Chicago sports. The day I had flown in to Orlando and had spent the day incommunicado at the parks was the day the Cubs fired their manager Mike Quade. And if you're not a Cub fan, it's not pronounced Quaid like Dennis and Randy. It sounds like “Quad-Dee.” It's almost like Quatto, the weird little mutant baby from Total Recall. And he was about as effective as a manager for the Cubbies. I was blissfully ignorant (and a little buzzed) when Joe broke the news to me, as well as the fact they were already talking to Ryne Sandberg. Sadly, that deal never happened anyway. Ok, give me a minute . . .
After we chatted a while, Joe went back into his booth to broadcast and I just leaned back, ordered another Tee-Off and relaxed. I realized I was suddenly very comfortable. Part of me contemplated spending the rest of my trip right there on that stool. The bartender leaned over and gave me the answer to the next question, but has they say hogs eat, pigs get slaughtered. Or is it the other way around?
Instead I gestured to a guy sitting at the high-top table near me who'd been eying my fancy new shirt and gave him the answer. I instructed him not to say where he'd gotten it, just as had been told to me. It's about brothers helping brothers right? His pretty girlfriend was impressed when he returned with a t-shirt as well. He gave me an appreciative nod. No thanks necessary. We were part of a fraternity of men here. This was our club.
Much like in Field of Dreams, I wondered, was this Heaven. No. Just the ESPN Club.
So thank you Wes Welker. You didn't get your ring this year, but you did get me a free shirt!
"I'm NOT going to Disney World!!!"
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