Now I Can Die in Peace

Bill Simmons, columnist for ESPN.com, once made me spit out my coffee twice, like, I spat while reading something funny in his column but there was still some left in my mouth and then I read the remainder of the sentence he wrote and spat out the rest of my coffee. So I showed up to his book signing on Monday night and apparently thousands of other people have had a similar experience with his writing, because the line stretched like beyond Chicago city limits or something and was a nearly three-hour affair. The beauty of this Bill Simmons dude is you’ll read his stuff and he’ll throw an obscure pop culture reference in there, or a witty extended analogy, and you’ll laugh and feel kind of warm inside because you’re convinced that he must have written that sentence specifically just for you, because how could more than two people on this planet have known that Giovanni Ribisi was Staci Keanan’s boyfriend in “My Two Dads,” or even known who Giovanni Ribisi and Staci Keanan are, or once considered naming a fantasy football team “2 Mannings, 1 Cup,” or totally thought that that was David Hasselhoff making a cameo at the end of Ace Ventura: Pet Detective and was too embarrassed to admit it afterward?

The line into ESPN Zone went on and on but it was worth it, not just because of my devotion to this guy, but because it was like standing in line with a couple thousand Petes. We swapped jokes and debated NBA basketball and made tons of top ten lists, and then as we reached the approximate halfway point of the line, we began discussing what we’d say to Bill Simmons after shaking his hand. There were a couple solid, creative ideas, but I still liked mine the most: “Hey Bill, you’re a great sportswriter and I’mma let you finish, but Rick Reilly had the best book signing ever!”

Maybe 99.95% of the world wouldn’t appreciate that one-liner, but everyone in line cackled and clapped their hands as if I was Eddie Murphy circa 1987. It combined a pop culture reference (Kanye West) with a reference to a sports journalist (Rick Reilly) with irony with edginess with relevancy with boldness with sexiness. I inched closer and closer to the table, feeling festive and alive, thinking about my opportunity to make Bill Simmons laugh, thinking about plugging my own blog to him and him handing me his cell phone number so we could be lifelong buddies. I ordered a beer while standing in line. I ordered my new friends beer as well. We waited, talked sports, vented about Jon Gosselin, waited some more.

And then! I was closer than ever to Bill Simmons, I was giddy and taking cell phone pictures and preparing myself for destiny, and the guy in front of me? He shook Bill’s hand and used my joke! That motherfucker! And Bill laughed and spat out his Coke! Twice!

Yeah, and then it was my turn, and all I could come up with on the fly was “HEY BILL, ‘GREG ODEN’ IS AN ACRONYM FOR ‘GREEN GOD’, THEREFORE HE WILL BE A CELTIC ONE DAY.” That’s it. That’s all. I stuttered through the entire thing too. It was such a random, bizarre thing to say. Bill looked up at me quickly, then signed my copy of “The Book of Basketball,” then never thought about me ever again.