Sneakers, autographs, a trampy girl, more sneakers and an all-star game. Four days of stalking Steve Nash

In typical O'Leary fasion, here's the rest of my Steve Nash weekend, five days after I promised it.

Wednesday proved to be a letdown. After I had built up the idea of the interview in my head for three weeks, I was lumped into a pile of bottom feeders who had three minutes to split questions up with Nash. While not a one on one, a three on one is better than nothing; though it's close. Later that night, I got to meet Olu Ashaolu (pictured, getting interviewed by the Score), the kid I wrote on last year for Slam. Him and the other kids at the camp had a scrimmage against the U-17 BC team. Little did I know, that was the last day of the camp, which left me with little to do until the Nash game on Saturday.



Due to a misreading of the schedule, I missed a press conference on Friday, where Nash talked about being excited for the game. A shocking development. I ran into the lady who was setting up more one on one interviews with Nash and I tried to get a few minutes with him. It was here I learned two things: a) this lady did not like/have time for me, and b) without this lady's help, I was screwed. I was stuck outside of the press room where Nash was doing sit downs with CBC and TSN with these two kids (maybe 20 years old) who ran a web board or something out of Victoria. They were an odd pair. The girl was borderline albino and underdeveloped. She was wearing a Carmelo Anthony high school jersey and a skirt. The guy looked like Sacramento Kings PG Mike Bibby and had coffee breath. They were looking for pics and autographs from players who were supposed to be coming down to get headshots for the game. The only one who came down was the Mavs' Devin Harris. I tried to keep my distance from the two of them, as I didn't want to get lumped in with them as fans. I don't think it worked. Then things got weird with them. They had a third guy with them, who was really quiet and kind of uninvolved. Seemed like he was just there for something to do. The girl goes over to him, puts her arms around his neck and kind of rubs his back and kisses him. So they're dating, no big deal, right? 20 minutes later or so, the other guy goes up to the girl, puts his hands on her thighs, leans in and kisses her. In the words of Ray from Trailer Park Boys, "What in the fuck!??!" I was officially weirded out. I called it a day.

The trip was turning out to be a big waste. I had spent a lot of money to fly out, the camp was cut short, which killed my hopes of getting a story or two out of it, and I hadn't gotten to interview Nash like I had wanted to, let alone get him to sign the shoe I had brought (is that unprofessional? I thought it was until I saw some lady from CBC newsworld getting Nash to sign a ball and a jersey for her son before she interviewed him). At around 8 that night, I was in the Coal Harbour area, trying to find somewhere to sit down and get something to eat when Nash walked right by me. I still had the shoe in my bag and I caught up with him and he signed it for me. I was a little apprehensive about approaching him, since he was with his dad and they were talking, but I did it anyway, because I'm a dick like that, I guess. So all in all, Friday wasn't a total waste. The shoe now proudly sits in my living room.



The players were supposed to get their headshots done for the game on Saturday morning, since only Devin Harris had shown up on Friday. I was at the Westin at 9am, hoping to run into Denham Brown, the kid from Toronto who was drafted in the second round by the Sonics. I wanted to get a story on him for hooplife. Denham never showed, but the two kids from the message board did. Today the girl wore a skirt and a LeBron James high school jersey. Ironically enough, the Mike Bibby lookalike rocked a Bibby grizzlies jersey. The players weren't showing up and my patience was wearing thin, especially when the kids from the message board started coming up with creative ways to say my name: Chris-plosive, Chris, y'all, Crickity Chris, and finally, Chris-tal, the one they liked the most. The capper on my morning came when the two of them asked me if I blazed. I gave them a no, along with a mental, "Are you fucking kidding? Right now? Jesus Christ, get it together, it's like 10am. Fuck!" They came back ten minutes later, reeking of pot and started talking with me. Of course, this is when a PR lady walks by, smells the pot and scowls at the three of us. I left after that. On my way out, I ran into Nash, who very kindly turned down my interview request. Normally I'd have been mad at this, but he comes across as such a nice guy that I almost believed him when he said maybe he could do it later. I felt like a hack, so I left.

From here, the trip picked up. I made my way over to a shoe store and picked up these incredibly hot Air Jordan IV's. Note the little Mars Blackman on the heel. Totally makes the shoe.




I got to GM Place at 4pm to pick up my pass, only to find out that the same lady who wouldn't give me any time with Nash on Friday hadn't put me on the list of people to get passes. Thanks to the Nike guy who sets me up with shoes, who I fluked out and ran into on the way in, and some persuading on my part, I got a pass. The first person I saw in the corridor when I got in was Nash, who greeted me like he knew me. I'm not sure if he remembered me from earlier in the day or not, but it was cool nonetheless.

The game was good, as good as a charity game can get anyway. I made some contacts, got the interview I wanted with Denham Brown and talked with Mo Pete and Charlie Villanueva as well for an upcoming Slam story, which I didn't even think of doing until I was in the locker room after the game. Oh, and I got a picture with Mike Finley, a guy who gets shoes made for him exclusively by Jordan Brand. Sure, it was crossing the fan/reporter line, but when the cameras stopped rolling after Nash's post-game conference, 3/4 of the people in the room did the same thing, so I don't feel bad about it. The pic's not a good one, but here's me and Finley.



I was back in Edmonton about 12 hours later, ready to spend the last few weeks in my crap shack, where hopefully the lobby of the building will stop smelling like shit.

BAM