Foreword Now that I''m dead, I''d like to discuss my funeral. First off, I want chili cheeseburgers. And Guinness. And the Miami Dolphins cheerleaders. I want the Cure playing, live. I hid some money under the rock out back. Should cover it. If there''s any left, get the Phoenix Gorilla, too.
I''ll need a mix of crying and laughing, 25 percent/70 percent, if we could. The other 5 percent is going to be those who will be there howling happily to see that I''ve boxed. That will be Bryant Gumbel, Steve Garvey, and Sammy Sosa, people like that. Let them holler lousy things out about me now and then. I don''t mind. I was hard on them. A lot of my final rankings will be hanging on big posters on the walls of whatever hall you rent. (The back room at an Olive Garden ought to do it.
) They are as follows: NICEST PEOPLE: * Steph Curry * Jim Nantz * That bald guy with the mushroom-cloud ear hair who always comes up to me and tells me how much he loved my last column even though Mitch Albom usually wrote it BIGGEST JERKS: * Barry Bonds * Barry Bonds * Robert ( Arliss ) Wuhl * Barry Bonds * Jay Cutler MOST FUN: * Charles Barkley * George Clooney * David Feherty GREATEST WITNESSED THRILLS: * Nicklaus wins the 1986 Masters * North Carolina State wins the 1983 NCAA March Madness * My first SI Swimsuit shoot. Oh. My. God. LARGEST REGRETS: * Believed Lance Armstrong * Didn''t believe Jose Canseco * Sold all my Apple at 125 DUMBEST QUESTIONS PEOPLE ASKED ME: * Where do they store the hockey ice at the arena when they switch over to basketball? (A: They cut it up in little squares and the players take it home and keep it in their freezers.) * Why has Greg Norman never been selected to play in the Ryder Cup? (A: Because Norman has a deal with U-Haul.) * When was the last repeat winner of the Kentucky Derby? (A: Sigh.) PEOPLE I WAS SURE WOULD BE DEAD BEFORE ME: * Mike Tyson * Dennis Rodman * John Daly BEST INSULT: * "Thanks for sending me your book.
I''ll waste no time reading it." (From a reviewer.) PRESIDENTS MET: * Ford (stepped on my foot) * Carter (wouldn''t let go of my wife) * Bush 41 (very fast, very bad golfer) * Clinton (smart) * Obama (fantasy football partner) ANNOYANCES: * The readjust, re-Velcro, triple loogie done between pitches every freaking time * The stupid rule that won''t let you pull it out of a divot * Guns THINGS I''LL MISS: * Wife and kids and buddies * Third-and-8 and Peyton Manning deciding who he''s going to burn * Piano bars THINGS I WON''T: * "Can you take a look at my nephew''s book? It''s a true story!" * Wide receivers who pump their chest and point to the name on their back after a six-yard gain. * The 43 million waiters and waitresses in this country who set the plate down and say, "Enjoy." Hey, lady, it''s a cheesesteak. Where do you think I''m putting it? WHAT I LEARNED: * The faster a sprinter is, the slower he walks * There is no point talking to a 5-iron * The Kenyan with the most impossible name to pronounce will win the race * All other Kenyans will finish 2-through-10 * Media company lawyers do not get paid to get your joke. They get paid to kill it * Even if there are 1,000 people in front of you enjoying your after-dinner speech, you will focus on the lady who''s asleep * The guy you need the most to finish your story will be last out of the shower * Every hate e-mail starts with "I''ve enjoyed everything you''ve written, until _____", and ends with "hope you die in a fiery ____ accident" * Ninety-seven percent of athletes are lovely people and really boring columns * If you''re not adding some tiny good to the world, then you''re wasting everybody''s time Up on stage, there will be a bottle of Macallan scotch from every year I''ve been alive. Each person will come up to the stage and take a shot from the year they met me, then smash the glass.
If you don''t drink, we probably never met. For flowers, I''d like the purple kind. They''re pretty. MC Vin Scully (he''ll outlive us all) will get up and open--cold--with Sentences That Have Never Been Uttered in the History of the English Language. I have a whole collection I''ve been saving and they''ll be perfect coming out of Vin''s velvet voice box. A few sentences nobody''s ever uttered: * "Tiger, meet my sister." * "Shaq, you shoot the technical." * "Tebow says go screw yourself.
" Then Vin is going to open it up for speeches. But be warned: Rip me, roast me, rave about me, but don''t be boring. I''m going to have Nate (No Neck) Syzmanski standing there. If you''re dull, he''ll disconnect the mike and "encourage" you off the stage. If Charles Barkley shows, I''d like him to get up and tell about the time we were driving along and the steering wheel came off in his hands. Or the time we were walking along in Barcelona in 1992 and looked back to see 200 people following us. I''d like John Elway to tell about the time we were playing golf and he tripped on a tee marker at the top of a steep par 3 and tumbled 30 feet cleat-over-baseball-cap. One of the best up and downs of his life.
And it''d be great if one of my buddies got up and read some of the dumb quotes I''ve had to stand there and write in my notepad. Do you know how hard it is to write about people who make their livings with their bodies, not their brains? For instance: * "Oh, man, you''ll never get up this thing in the winter."--Wayne Gretzky''s Canadian friend, surveying Gretzky''s steep L.A. driveway * "We got our backs to the driver''s seat."--Otis Armstrong, RB, Denver Broncos * "I''ve won championships at every level, except high school and college."--Shaquille O''Neal Oh, and I want a bunch of Nerf footballs in the crowd. I want people to just stand up and go, "I''m open!" and then have somebody wing one at them.
I want Elway to have his own basket of them. Now, I''ve taken the liberty of writing my own obit. If you''ll just send it to the papers and the websites and whatnot: RICK REILLY, 56, sportswriter, died this week of one thing or the other. He probably had it coming. Reilly published or posted over 2 million words in his 37-year career, most of them making fun of Barry Bonds and the size of his head. At least Reilly tried to tell the truth in his stories and columns. He might not have always done it, but he tried. He also tried to make it all add up to something.
He tried to make you laugh or cry or treat somebody better. Or worse. Once in awhile, he pulled it off. Reilly was a very odd sportswriter in that he didn''t really write about sports. He wrote more about people who played sports than the sports themselves. The high school stud quarterback who took the loneliest girl under his wing. The blind woman who travels by bus, train and sidewalk to every Yankees game. The sports-fan kid who was supposed to be 17 and looked 80.
Reilly covered every major sporting event except the Indy 500, and every minor one, including the world sauna championship, in which he placed 103rd. He saw over 100 countries, including some behind the Iron Curtain that no longer exist. He went to every state but North Dakota, although he''s not really welcome in Nebraska, possibly because of this joke he told in Omaha: Q: What do you call a hot tub full of Nebraska cheerleaders? A: Gorillas in the mist. He got decent at the piano for a while. Knew enough magic to annoy you. George Clooney made one of his movies. He had a TV series that lasted one episode. Had his own interview show that lasted 15.
Helped raise over $50 million to fight malaria via Nothing But Nets, which he came up with because he was desperate for a column one week. He saw the northern lights. He ran with the bulls. He saw the best people could be and the worst. He loved writing about big people acting small and small people acting big. He liked writing about the star of the team, but he preferred writing about the nobody at the end of the bench. He wrote short, medium and long, which was probably what he did best, but it''s probably also why he''s dead at 56. He always said every one of them takes a year off your life.
Th.