This is the diary of a sports reporter in San Francisco ... you have no idea. Ha ha, I always wanted to say, err ... write, that.
This week I am on vacation with my dad in the Bay City. I decided to keep a daily log of what we've been up to.
When we first landed at San Francisco International Airport, we had to pick up our rental car after baggage claim. Let me tell you, it was no simple task. You would think they would have the rental car place near baggage claim. Maybe that is just a crazy idea on my part.
Anyway, we had to do an American Gladiator style Eliminator obstacle course before we found Hertz. We went up an escalator, down an escalator, up some stairs, down some stairs, on a tram, in an elevator, up a cargo net, etc.
Oh, and I had a problem too with the signs in the airport. It said "Baggage Claim This Way" when we stepped off the plane with an arrow pointing toward the main concourse. Fair enough. I would figure to go that way because the only other option is to get back on the plane. But then we never saw another sign again telling us where baggage pick-up actually was. It's like asking someone in Memphis where China is and they point left.
When we finally got to the car, we were pleased to see we had a GPS system called "Never Lost." It should be called "Always Lost." I swear the person who programmed it was trying to screw with me. That thing sent me in a circle about three times before I realized what was happening. It also wouldn't tell you to make a turn you were supposed to until after you passed it. I probably broke 75 traffic laws on Tuesday.
The first thing we saw on our drive into the city was Candlestick aka Monster Park. It's where the 49ers play for all you non-sports fans. That town must hate the team because the stadium is stashed about six miles outside of downtown in a little corner all by itself. It's kind of like the place you put the redheaded step child: away from everything else. Monster Park is a dump. Joe Montana deserved better.
After that, we got into town and headed to Fisherman's Wharf. But before I get to that, let me talk about the parking spaces. The only thing I can figure is they must be designed for go-carts. They have to be the smallest parking spaces ever. And I saw a couple of people hit the door of the car next to theirs when they were getting out. But the people in Cali are so laid back - they were like "It's cool man." Well not me. I'm from Memphis. We don't play that crap. I will throw down South Parkway style with anyone who touches my car.
Back to Fisherman's Wharf. It was really nice. Alcatraz sits about a mile or so from the end of the pier. I thought it would be closer than it was but it would take a heck of a swimmer to pull that off.
In case you ever go to San Francisco, I should warn you about the pigeons near the Wharf. They can and will attack.
Next, we went across the Golden Gate Bridge. I kept thinking of the Full House opening song when I saw it. After that we checked out Golden Gate Park, and we also found Washington and Cherry streets where the Zodiac killed the cabbie.
We went down Lombard Street too. It is known as the curviest street in the country. It might be. I'm not sure who designed the street. I'm going to say he was blind.
Well, that's all I had time for on the first day. Tomorrow there will be more to come, including a Giants game and Barry Bonds, the only guy with a bigger head than mine.
