Two thumbs up for this year's post-season awards ceremony. The food was actually pretty good, the room was very nice, the speeches ranged from quite touching to mercifully short, and everyone looked very spiffy. Our host, Bob "Say Hello To Your New Number One Qualifier" Frey, was his normally funny self, always best with an ad-lib at just the right moment. Timing is, as they say, everything.

Going back over the many years, my first "banquet" (to be technical, I think a "banquet" includes a sit-down dinner, so many of our ceremonies have just been "shows," but everyone still calls it "the banquet") was in 1992, when I attended with Chuck Etchells and his crew (my first PR/management job with a team) and back then the banquet was held at the old Red Lion Hotel, by the Ontario Airport. I don't remember a lot other than it lasted a really long time, and the top three points finishers in each Pro class got to make a speech. I had to look it up to be sure, but Cruz Pedregon won the FC championship that year, and John Force came in second. What most people probably don't remember is that Al Hofmann finished third and therefore got to speak. He went to the podium first, and let's just say it was vintage Al because his "speech" was more of a rambling monologue about anything that was chapping his hide at the time. Nary a "thank you" or a sponsor mention included. We were, as a group at our table, alternating between laughing out loud and peeking between our fingers. After they made Al Hofmann, they broke the mold.

I recall the fact that Force came up next, and it was as if Robin Williams had just followed Andy Rooney to the stage. His "speech" was a maniacal out-of-control comedy act, full of veering tangents in a stream of consciousness, and at some point, we were all reaching for our napkins to dab away the tears running down our cheeks. Frankly, I'd never seen anything like it. I actually felt a bit sorry for Cruz, who had to follow that act, although I think they also had a hard time getting Force to stop.

Since then, we've had a wide variety of ceremonies, at places like the Cerritos Performing Arts Center, Universal Studios, and the Kodak Theater. Throughout most of those years, the CSK team would rent a huge limo and "commute" to the show, and despite the fact the car was fully stocked with any adult beverage you could think of, I recall all of us having some fun on the way there but then being sound asleep for the whole ride back. By Monday night, at the end of the season, there ain't much fuel left in the party tank...

Also, throughout those years, the banquet was more often a marathon of uncomfortable speeches, boring presentations, and lame skits or musical entertainment. My gosh, it seemed like they let anyone with an index card in his hand get up there and ramble on for 15 minutes. Sometimes the skits were funny (they did a video parody of "The Sopranos" one year, which included the Snake in a starring role, and that really was very humorous), but mostly they were groaners, followed by yet another executive with no public speaking expertise, stepping to the microphone to drone on for a quarter-hour about the history of his involvement with the sport, in a sort of "I started out as a child..." fashion. It was, quite often, a night of agony that would stretch on until we'd all taken four bathroom breaks and basically couldn't stand another minute of it.

Fortunately, this year's banquet was a concise, well-run breeze. We gathered in the lower level of the Hyatt for a reception first (although there were no signs pointing you down the escalators, so about half the group simply gathered in the lobby), and that hour was spent circulating, admiring each other's formal wear and congratulating each other on another successful year. There was also much talk of brief vacations or other off-season plans. Once the lights flashed, we all headed into the beautiful ballroom and found our tables. We were seated at A-22, at the back of the main lower level and right in the middle, and the Tasca team was next to us, although they needed three extra seats so Bob's mom and dad sat with us, along with my PR colleague Susan Pollack.

Almost immediately, the "sorry if you wanted rubber chicken because you have to take this filet mignon" dinner was brought out, and we all immediately made it obvious that we were hungry. Not a lot of talking going on when you wolfing down dinner and grabbing dinner rolls. As planned, I sat between Krista Wilkerson and my best buddy Rachel, who (as previously noted in the Wednesday blog) looked simply marvelous.

All during dinner, a slide show was showing on the big screens throughout the room, and I had been warned by ND photographer Jerry Foss that I was in it. As soon as he said that, I knew the photo he was talking about... Yup, I think we were in Phoenix when he walked right up to me and stuck the lens in my face, at which point I did what any insanely handsome man would do: I crossed my eyes. My mother would be so proud, but I'm living proof that they don't get stuck that way. Sure enough, about halfway through the slide show (which was on a continuous loop and therefore ran about 20 times during dinner) a 12-foot high version of me appeared, eyes firmly focused on the tip of my nose. Ah, my 15 minutes of fame!

About the fourth time it appeared, Tim turned to anyone near our table and said "There's our guy. We actually pay him..."

Once dinner was done, the esteemed Mr. Frey took the stage, and one of the first items was a nice season recap video, with all sorts of highlights from 2009 and a lot of great people shots. One of those included Neighbor Dave and I doing our "slap, slap, bump, explode" fist-bump behind the car, after which I turn to the ESPN camera, point at either Nelly or Dana (no clue which one of them shot the scene) and did a fist bump with him. Tack on another eight seconds to my 15 minutes of fame...

From that point on, the show moved quite briskly, with each of the four Pro classes being introduced. If you've never seen it, the methodology is for points finishers 2 through 10 to come out as a group, and then each driver is introduced with a very short video. They get to step forward and wave, and then it's on to the next one. Finally, the champ is introduced solo, and he or she gets to come out and make a speech.

For the record, Hector Arana's speech was from the heart and totally unrehearsed. So unrehearsed, he forgot a few people and actually asked Frey if he could make amends for that after he was done. From that point forward, throughout the night, Bob kept looking at Hector in the audience, saying "Anything else you need to add, Hector? Are we good? Forget anyone else?"

Mike Edwards' speech was about as motivational as you can get, full of meaningful messages. Robert Hight had the foresight to bring his whole crew up on stage with him, and his speech was also well- delivered. He only had a little emotional trouble when it came time to thank Force, his boss, mentor, and father-in-law. Finally, Tony Schumacher came to the stage, and frankly you'd think this would be old hat for him. He actually pointed at Robert and said "I can't believe you thought to do that and I didn't" about having the crew on stage, and then he calmly and seriously spoke of Fort Hood and how he was going to take his Wally down there for the grieving families. The Sarge did a great job.

In between classes, there were other awards to give out, including Spencer Massey's rookie of the year trophy, and a few key speeches from Tom Compton and the Coca-Cola folks. All in all, we were dressed up for about three and a half hours, then let all the youngsters kick up their heels at the after-party. Dave and I headed straight to our rooms, and I can tell you with no exaggeration that I then attempted to check my e-mail and caught myself nodding off at the desk in my room. Straight to bed it was...

I did have some time to kill in the morning, before my 3:20 flight out of LAX, so I took the rental car over to Santa Monica, then over through Brentwood and Westwood, down the El Segundo, and then finally to the airport.

Now... It's Friday and Dave just called with some marketing assignments we have to tackle RIGHT NOW, so I have to wrap this up and get to work. Enjoy the photos, enjoy the weekend, and maybe send a few positive vibes to our struggling hockey team. The Wild play the New York Islanders tonight, and we'll be there in our Row 2 seats, hoping they pick up the pace and look a little better than they have so far this season.

See you soon,

Wilber, out!

But who's counting, right? I'm back home in sunny Minnesota where it's about 50 right now, so that's only a 25-degree swing from where I've just been (although the 34-degree temp when I got off the plane last night was a bit refreshing). Anyway, with the huge backlog of stories to tell and photos to share, I decided to get right back at it this afternoon.

For the record, I slept late. My excuse was that my body was still on Pacific Time, but the truth is my body was still on the "really, really, tired" setting, and I just needed to recharge. Even on Sunday night and Monday night, out there, it was all still "on" and the sleep was never up to what I was looking for in either quantity or quality. Once I got home last night, and then joined both cats and my wife on the sofa to watch a little "Dancing With The Stars" it was off to bed and some total relaxation.

I spent a short morning (they are short when you sleep through half of them) wrapping up my expenses, printing out a few clippings, and answering 2,000 pounds (that would be a "ton") of wonderful emails, and then I took the dry cleaning up to Woodbury Cleaners and let the girls there know that I was dropping off the LRS shirts and the black slacks for the last time this year. I then went next door to Subway for lunch (Subway Club, toasted, with American cheese) and one of the regular guys behind the counter said "I was watching on ESPN 2 Sunday night, and I think I saw you. There were Funny Cars racing, so was that you?" It's possible...

Anyway, it's basketball night tonight (hapless 1-10 Wolves vs. the 6-5 Houston Rockets) so Barb will be home soon and we'll turn around and head for Target Center in Minneapolis. Then, we have Wild tickets (vs. the New York Islanders) for Friday night, which is also neighbor Nichol's birthday, so we're trying to figure out whether we'll have pre-game or post-game festivities in downtown St. Paul. On Sunday, our all-sports-all-the-time weekend will conclude when we attend our only Vikings game of the year, at the Metrodome versus the Seahawks. This should be a lot of fun.

Barbara and I are still debating whether we're going to try to get away for a few days, at any point, this winter. Sadly, the London trip now seems impossible. With all the grueling travel she's just been through, there's no way she wants to fly that far without being certain of a seat in First Class (okay, call us both spoiled rotten but until you've flown as much as we have you might not understand how totally unappealing a 10-hour flight in coach sounds) and for us to get guaranteed upgrades the full coach fare is well over $1,200 apiece. London sounds great, but that ain't gonna happen.

So, today I nosed around a bit for fares to various places we enjoy, and right now we're analyzing the options. Barbara is taking all of next week off, but I really don't feel I'm able to do that, so we're looking at someplace close by, with good food, and lots to do. Austin is on the list, as are a couple of other fun destinations, but we might just stay home and enjoy Thanksgiving with the Jacobsens and their large extended family. After all of the airports, airplanes, and rental cars we've endured this year, staying home sounds kinda nice...

Basically, my next deadline is December 16 when Annette and I will meet with LRS, down in Springfield, to recap the season from our marketing, PR, and hospitality perspectives, and then discuss how we can change, improve, or make any of it more efficient next year. For that meeting, I need to have all of my post-season review stuff done, and I feel the need to come up with an outline of the bullet points I want to talk about, so I can't be messing around too much over the next few days. This guy's got work to do!

And... The next work item on my agenda is this blog. Today, I'll go back to the weekend, and we'll wrap up all the racing news and photos. On my next blog, I'll show you the sights and describe the fun of the Awards Ceremony. You will no doubt enjoy seeing us all dressed up. I know we did.

I won't go into our on-track results in any great detail, other than to say we ran pretty well in qualifying and ended up 6th on the ladder. That brought with it a first-round match-up with our buddy, Fast Jack, and we knew that was going to be tough. What was also facing us, square in the eye, was the wide range of possibilities for where we'd end the season in the points. We entered the race 6th, with Ron Capps just a couple of points ahead of us, then Fast Jack and Tony Pedregon were 4th and 3rd, respectively. They were both less than a round ahead of us, so getting around Jack was a mission we had in our own hands, but we'd need someone to beat Tony and Ron if we wanted to get by them. Same thing for Ashley Force Hood, who was 27 points ahead, in 2nd place, when we started the race. 

Well, two out of four ain't bad.

We beat Jack, Matt Hagan beat Tony, and in well fell swoop we moved up from 6th to 4th. Ron and Ashley won, too, so we were still on their tail but running out of time. Sure enough, we beat Robert Hight in the next round, but Ron beat Hagan on a hole-shot to keep us at bay, and when Ashley won we knew she'd have to lose in the semifinal and we'd have to win the race if we wanted to retain the number 2 on our car for 2010.

There was a way for that to happen, and it went like this: Ron would have to beat Ashley in their semifinal, while we beat Mike Neff. Then, if we beat Ron in the final, we'd end up in 2nd place. Easy, right!  Well, not so much, actually. Ron lost to Ashley, we lost to Zippy, and we'll have a 4 on our car next year. Hey, how many other Funny Car teams would trade their number for a 4 next year? My guess would be all but three of them...

Other fun stuff...  My nephew Ewan now lives in So Cal, working for Pitney Bowes, and his sister (my niece) Lauren just happened to be out there visiting, so they came to the race on Sunday, bringing along Ewan's buddy Dave, who is a huge NHRA fan. It was great to see Ewan and Lauren, and to meet Dave, and it was even better to give them some backstage access during driver introductions, and let them see and experience what it's like to win a couple of important rounds on Sunday.

We also wanted to get our picture taken, as a group, so I grabbed the closest guy who ought to know how to work a camera and asked him to take one. Who was that? Well, I figured the Editor of National DRAGSTER and NHRA.com should be up to it, so I asked Phil Burgess. Dave and Ewan then said "The picture will be nice to have, but the real story will be telling everyone who took it!" Yup.  And, for the record, Ewan is a former high school and college basketball player so, no, I have not recently been reduced in size. He's about 6' 9" or thereabouts.

In case you missed it on TV, the Budweiser Clydesdales were also there, and that's always a thrill for a St. Louis boy like me. On Sunday morning, as we walked up the staging lanes toward the stage, the horses and the Bud beer wagon were getting ready to go, and two different people came up to me and said "Kenny doesn't know yet, but Budweiser is giving him a Clydesdale!"  My first thought was "Huh?" followed by "I guess that's pretty cool..."  It was cool, and talk about a heckuva gift!  I wonder if the Sheraton allowed him to take the horse to his room that night?

Rachel Wilkerson, my best buddy, saw John Force on Sunday morning and he took off his Castrol hat, autographed it just for her, and gave it to her. She was jazzed, as you might imagine. The autograph even said "John Force. Love you!"

Tim went up to his lounge to get his fire suit on before the introductions, and he came out wearing a Mike Edwards Pro Stock World Champion t-shirt. We all thought that was pretty cool...

As I mentioned in the last blog, once the day was over I just didn't have it in me to go to the post-race party over in Morgan Lucas' pit, despite the fact he got In-N-Out to bring over their mobile store (it's a truck with a kitchen, I guess) and he served 400 Double-Doubles. Instead, I got a good night's sleep, then took Finkster to the airport in the morning, and finally drove back over to the track. As promised in the last blog, I have included a "morning after" pic of the pro pit area. Plenty of trash, some teams (like ours) completely gone, some packed up and pulling out, and a few pit areas that had barely been touched yet. It's always a weird thing to see...

Then, as previously mentioned, it was off to the Hyatt via the scenic route. The first stop was to exit the freeway at Katella Ave. so that I could drive over to Angel Stadium. When I worked for Converse Shoes and had to call on the Angels, that stadium was one of the least appealing in baseball. Originally, when it was built between 1964 and 1966, it featured grandstands that only extended to the foul poles in each corner, leaving an open outfield, and that allowed them to place a gigantic A-shaped structure with a halo around the top of it, out in left field. The scoreboard was placed about one-third of the way up the big A structure.

But, when the Rams football team moved to Anaheim they "closed the loop" by fully enclosing the stadium, and at the same time they really did nothing to make it feel like much more than a giant concrete bowl. And, because the new part of the grandstand blocked the old giant "A" scoreboard, they moved it out to the edge of the parking lot so it could be seen from the 57 Freeway.

A variety of things happened to change all of that. 1. The Rams moved to St. Louis. 2. A major earthquake seriously damaged the upper deck of the newly enclosed part of the stadium, above the baseball outfield. 3. Disney bought the Angels.

Put all three of those things together, and what you got was a total refurbishment of the stadium, including the removal of the newest part of it out in the outfield (returning it to its original design, with an open outfield) and lots of cool new features, including the scenic rocks beyond the outfield wall and a lot of other stuff. Disney has since sold the team, but the new owner continues to spend money to make what is one of the older stadiums in the game seem fresh, fan friendly, and fun.  The giant "A" is still out by the freeway, but I'll never forget where it started, nor will I forget those classic old hats the original Los Angeles Angels wore, with the white halo stitched around the top... Where have you gone, Bobby Knoop?

I also drove over to the other side of the freeway, to Honda Center where the Anaheim Ducks play. My buddy Rachel Kaizoji (who used to work for NHRA) works for the Ducks, but I hadn't called to see if she was around so I didn't bug her. I just took a pic of her workplace from the parking lot. I'm sorry, but it's pretty odd for me to see an NHL hockey arena surrounded by palm trees...

Well, that's about all I have time for right now. I have to finish up one more small project, then get ready to go watch the Rockets destroy the Wolves, even without Yao Ming.

I'll be back tomorrow (at least that's the plan) with tales of the Awards Ceremony...

Wilber, out!

As opposed to how I imagine it must seem to you, out there watching in TV or internet land, the season does not actually end when the final pair of cars go down the track on Sunday night in Pomona. It actually ends in stages.

First of all, it's Pomona, it's the Finals, and the finality of that is inescapable the whole long weekend, as you're constantly aware of where you are. There is a certain unique quality to the natural light, and the air, in Pomona. It's unmatched anywhere else on the tour, from the mountains in the distance to the warm glow as the sun sets somewhere out there, beyond the Pacific Ocean. It's So Cal, it's Pomona, and it's unlike anyplace else we race. So... For about five days you know it's the Finals, and you know the season is about to end.

Unless you win the race (we came close, but no cigar) your day ends before the race does. As soon as we lost in the semifinals, to Zippy, we all got to work. I crouched in my corner of the hospitality area, and Annette did me a HUGE favor by having everyone start to tear the area down at the front end, so that I didn't have awnings, banners, and privacy walls coming down around me. It's not easy to immediately seat yourself at a table in the middle of a noisy pit area and put into 1,200 words what just happened, but it's a thousand times harder when people are disassembling the world all around you, and you know you're not only in the way but also taking up a table and chair that need to be packed up.

Then, after hitting the "Send" button, I changed into a work t-shirt and joined the elephants tearing down the pit, for the last time in 2009. Somewhere well after dark, well after all the final rounds, and nearing what felt like the middle of the night (but it was actually only about 8:00) we were done. There was a big pit party out there, since Morgan Lucas picked up the baton from Del and all of us former Team CSK members who had hosted the mega-party forever, but I just didn't have it in me. Our guys said "C'mon, you gotta come hang with us for a little bit," and all I could say was "Dude, I helped invent that party. Been there, been through it, been sucked-in by the vortex it creates like a black hole you can't escape, and tonight I'm going to bed."

On Monday morning, I drove back over there, just to get a look at the surreal scene that is the pro pit area on the morning after.

If you're wondering why I'm not mentioning a photo gallery, it's because I'm pressed for time and need to get to LAX to catch my flight home. We'll have reams of pics to look at all the rest of this week, I promise, including one of the worn-out looking pro pit area!

So, the season was over, but it wasn't over. I had to hop on the ubiquitous LA freeway system and drive to Century City, just east of Santa Monica, for the Awards Ceremony last night. I had time to kill, so I took the long slow route, down through Anaheim and then over to the Pacific Coast Highway near Redondo Beach, up through Hermosa Beach, Manhattan Beach, and El Segundo. Knowing I'd soon be heading home to Minnesota for the winter, I put the windows down, opened the sunroof, and basked in all the glory that is Southern California and the PCH. Another totally unique area, and it is so much of everything I think of when I think of So Cal. I even ended up passing through a bit of Hawthorne, Calif., where the Beach Boys all grew up, just to put the perfect bow on my mini-tour of the lower left coast.

Then, here to the Hyatt, into my room, then shortly after that into my monkey suit for the show. We all mingled, we laughed, we shared a lot of hugs, and all the stories and the pics will be forthcoming later this week. And Rachel Wilkerson looked FABULOUS!

Now, it's Tuesday. Is it over? No, because I still have to check out, get to the airport, turn the car in, get checked in for my flight, get through security, get on my flight, sit strapped to a seat for three hours, get my luggage at MSP's eternally slow baggage claim area, get to my car, and drive home. Then, once I walk in through the door from our garage, kiss my wife who I haven't seen in three weeks, and rub my little buddies Boofus and Buster, then... It will be over.

Much more to come, I promise. So many stories to tell and photos to share. I'll leave you with this view out of my 9th floor window at the Hyatt, looking eastward through a building that is designed to have the whole center part of it missing. Beverly Hills to my left, Hollywood in the distance, and LAX isn't too far away. Time to go home...

Wilber, out!
 

Just wanted to make that point, with the headline. It's Friday the 13th, but it's all good.

This race is already pretty "crazy go nuts" in terms of stuff going on, so I'm not sure how long or coherent this blog will be. It seems like every few seconds I'm reacting to some other different assignment or conversation, but the bottom line is I have some great pics to share so I need to at least tap a few words out here just to have a vehicle for the photos. This blog will play the part of the chips, and the pics are the good queso. You have to have a way to get the queso in your mouth; hence the chips...

I'm also about hyped to the max on coffee this morning. John Fink and I have eaten breakfast together over at the Sheraton each morning, and the waitress is always hovering over us to keep the cups full, then (of course) we still need to make our standard morning pilgrimage to McDonald's for another large one. Considering I don't drink coffee at home, and only have it sporadically at the races, I'm not saying I'm hyper but things sure are moving at a high rate of speed! LOL.

Okay, a few short updates:

1. The flight out was uneventful except for the 35-minute delay leaving the gate so that some sort of repair could be made to the Captain's seat in the cockpit. A mechanic made three different trips in there, and on the last one he was carrying a roll of duct tape, so that must have cured whatever ailed the pilot's perch. You can't make stuff like that up.

2. Hertz gave me a brand new (4 miles on it!) black Cadillac DTS. It's a pimp-daddy ride for sure, but a very nice car. Plus, I can make a few extra bucks at night driving teenagers around to proms or dances! All I need is the snazzy hat.

3. I'm in a nice room at the Sheraton. Originally, Barb was planning on coming out for the race and she likes to stay there because she can ride the tram over here from the Wally Parks Museum. She's still in Europe, though, so I could've stayed with the team, but I like the place too and Finkster wanted to stay there, so I bucked up for the big room rate and took it like a man.

4. On Thursday morning, John and I drove out to Ontario to pick up Jon Gimmy and Kevin Wilkerson, who flew out here in the morning. Considering they landed at 10:00 in the morning here, and had to fly from St. Louis to Dallas, and then to Ontario (and, of course, first had to drive the 110 miles from Springfield to the St. Louis airport) I was wondering what time they got up. According to Kevin, they didn't. They had to leave Springfield quite literally in the middle of the night, so they both stayed up and then slept some on the planes. No way in the world I could do that... No way.

5. The team was originally staying in San Dimas, just up the road, at a hotel that shall remain nameless, but which rhymes with Red Roof Inn. They checked in on Tuesday, and were immediately struck by the quaint way in which half the guests appeared to be actually living there, and how they so charmingly put their chairs out in front of their rooms and offered illicit pharmaceuticals to our guys when they arrived. Plus, Brandon had to ask for a different room because he just wasn't digging the way they had decorated his first one with a large blood stain on the carpet! The added bags of trash laying around the parking lot, and the guy hitting his "bong" with his room door open only added to the ambience. By the time I got here on Wednesday, they were fairly "over it" so I got on the horn and was able to move the whole team over to a brand-spanking-new Holiday Inn at Ontario Airport. If you're ever in San Dimas, though, and are looking for a hotel that provides all of the benefits described above, you know where to look. An Inn with a Roof colored Red. Sweet place...

6. We ran pretty well yesterday, but still nicked the heads a little in the lights, running a 4.15. Right now we're 5th, but today features cool temps and cloud cover, so everything could end up jumbled from here.

7. Barbara is still in Edinburgh, Scotland as I write this, but her day is nearly over and the hectic (crazy) business portion of her trip ended yesterday. Today she toured Edinburgh Castle, at the top of the Royal Mile, for most of the day, and she really had a good time. She's been all over the continent and basically reported that she can do without Zurich, she liked Geneva, The Hague was charming, and Edinburgh was really great. In the photo gallery, you'll see a pic of her next to a huge cannon in the castle, and she noted that it was installed there in 1457, it weighs six tons, and it took 100 men and horses to get it into place. Its cannon balls weigh 150 kilos each, and with 55 kilos of powder needed to fire them, the gun could only be used 10 times in a day, due to the heat it generated. It was last fired in 1681... You gotta love Europe! The part of Edinburgh known as New Town is the more recently constructed part of the city. It was built in the 14th century... Most importantly for Barb, she now gets to fly home!!! She's very anxious to get there.

8. Last night, Tim and I attended the Summit E.T. Bracket banquet at the museum, and let me tell you something... That was neat! Those guys are such dedicated racers, and just getting here to Pomona is such an enormous accomplishment it's hard to fathom. As Tim told them "You guys are the reason I'm a pro racer now. Beating people like you in bracket racing was just too damn hard!" One guy, who earned his way here running at Maple Grove, in Reading, drives a '68 Camaro, and when he won the division championship and earned the right to race here, he DROVE HIS RACE CAR from Pennsylvania to Pomona. How cool is that! We sat with the Summit guys, at the front table, along with Larry Morgan, Jason Line, and Greg Anderson, and a good time was had by all, due in no small part to Alan Reinhart's wonderful work as the Master of Ceremonies. Very neat deal, and a real honor for some fantastic hardcore racers. Best of luck to all them!

9. I got a cool photo the other day, from Mark S. who lives (obviously) in Minnesota. He had seen the pic of all the sports tickets on my fridge, and thought that was a good idea, so he did it too and sent me a photo of his Golden Gophers and Minnesota Wild tickets on his fridge door. I hooked him up with my guy at the Wolves, Conor Noonan, and he's getting a good discount on some T- Wolves tickets as well.

10. My phone was buzzing throughout the banquet last night, with text messages from Dave Rieff. His favorite hockey team is the Tampa Bay Lightning, and they were hosting the Wild down in Tampa last night. Rieffer was keeping me updated, including the fact the Lightning scored with 15-seconds to play to tie it up, and then won in a shootout. Oh well... Rieffer lives in Omaha now, and we've been talking for a couple of years about him coming up to the Twin Cities during the winter, to go to a Wild game with me. His last text said "I am coming this winter!!!! Gotta see the rink" By "the rink" he means the Xcel Arena, of course, so we'll have to find a time for him to make the trek north and grab some hockey action this winter. That'll be major fun.

11. Speaking of hockey, Neighbor Dave has absolutely SHOT to the top of our big NHRA pool, and he said Rob Flynn and Jeff Arend both stopped him on the way into the pits this morning to comment on that. Amazing that his stats could outpace the rest of us by so much in a week like that, but his team did indeed do it. I'm 11th right now, and currently Mr. Ozubko has changed my name one more time, to Mariano Wilber. Apparently I'm now "The Sand Man" closer for the Yankees, after being Reggie Wilber - Mr. October and then B-Rod Wilber after that.

12. My direct contact at LRS, Shannon Heisler, sent me a photo she still had in her in-box from last year. I don't remember if I showed it on here or not, but either way it's worth another look. At this time last year, someone put a big electric highway warning sign on the side of I-55 near Springfield, and you'll have to look in the photo gallery to see what it said. Very cool!

Well, I'm sure there's more but that's all I have time for right now... Gotta run. Let's go racin'...!!! Plus, the coffee is wearing off. Time for a Dew maybe?

Wilber, out!