I don't post here much and I've never written a diary before, because what am I going to write about?
I think the last thing A's fans want to hear is some guy creaming his jeans over Papi like Jimmy Fallon and Rachel Dratch did when the Boston twins met Nomar.
"NOMAHH! I LOVE YOU NOMAHH!"
Anyway, to the story at hand.
So, every couple of Tuesdays when Champions League soccer is on, I mosey on down to the Bayside in the Marina, since it's very close to my office and I can watch the 2nd half here. A few drinks, a sandwich, Celtic beating Man Utd, well FlynnSox is feeling pretty good and goes about his day.
Now, some context here. My friend has met Rickey Henderson and he said Rickey wears more cologne than any man alive.
So I run an errand or two and walk back to my office, and then it happens.
I walk straight into Rickey Henderson. But I don't know that yet. I look at the guy, and it's starting to dawn on me that he looks familiar, and then it hits me.
WOOOSH, that's a lot of cologne. The lightbulb goes off.
grumblegrumble "How ya doin man"
So there we go. I've met Rickey Henderson.
By the way, life's good for Rickey. I put him in the database and dude owns like half of Oakland. The fur coat on the missus and the huge gold chain kinda gave that away.