Wednesday, June 13, 2007 Yikes, gotta go, meter’s runnin’!
CLEVELAND—It was about 8 pm when I finally exited the Ohio turnpike last night. By then my rented Ford Fusion had already chewed 306 miles on interstate 80. And with The Wife and A.J. tagging along for the trip, I grudgingly obeyed the timid 70 miles an hour speed limit.
From I-80, I sliced my way to 480 East, heading straight to Brooklyn. I arrived at the hotel at 8:30 pm, just in time for my live NBA segment at over at dyAB with Leo Lastimosa.
After reporting, I darted to a convenience store down the road from the hotel. The place didn’t sell rum, so I had to settle with a lame six-pack of Budweiser. Exhausted from the long, restrained drive, I hit the sack 11:15 pm, Ohio time, which is one hour ahead of Chicago time.
The alarm clock wailed punctually at 5:15 am. I jumped in the shower and headed straight downtown to The Renaissance Hotel, the NBA Finals headquarters here.
I passed through three freeways to arrive downtown—480 East, 176 North and 90 East—but as a veteran of Chicago’s notorious highways, where traffic is tight as nasal congestion, this baby was a 15-minute breeze.
As I turned upon exiting Ontario St., I ran past Jacob Fields, home of Major League Baseball’s Cleveland Indians. Two traffic stops later, I was driving in front of the Quicken Loans Arena, home of the Cavs.
Across the street from the Q was a sight to behold. A giant, giant banner practically covered an entire building. It was a portrait of LeBron James, who peered down at a defenseless cylinder with a nasty look and presumably about to make a nasty dunk.
It was an ad by Nike, and it was accompanied by these bold letters bold letters “We are all witnesses.”
Parking at the Renaissance Hotel was not something to behold, though. It’s $10 for the first two hours and $1 for every hour thereafter. Whole day parking is $22.
Yikes, I gotta get out of here. The meter is running. (HDS)
