Brief, unsuccessful Jay Hopson interview

We have all been there. "Uh...well then...Happy Holidays Coach...talk to ya later"

So what was the real vibe? Was it a wink like "How did you know I would get it?" Or was it a wink like, "I know my wife is hot, now let us shop!"

I am sure he is aware of this blog, would have been a good time to name drop.

and when you meet someone famous (if you can call Hopson famous), it doesn't matter what you WANT to say, nothing ever comes out right.

Trust me on this one...it could have gone worse. MUCH worse.

I have a friend that ran into Bear Bryant back in the day and all he got out of the Bear was "You need a haircut."

Obviously Hopson is no Bear Bryant, but at least you got the question in.

BTW, "your wife is hot" is always appropriate. "Your mom/daughter is hot"-- not so much.

Awesome.  I had a similar run-in with Zoltan.  I saw him at the Duke game.  As soon as I recognized him I blurted out "ZOLTAN!"  He looked at me and his face immediately went to that "I don't know you" look, at which point I just smiled and waved.  Embarrassing. 

thanks

That's the funny thing about us obsessing over coaches and players. We act like we know them. They, on the other hand don't have a freaking clue who we are, and probably don't care.

We aren't friends with these guys. We don't know them personally. We are just fans with computers.

LOL nice work Brian. At least you got a wink

The real pressing question here is, have you ever been in public and had to deal with random guy (whom you presumably don't know) shouting out "BRIAN COOK"?

You know, not that blogging makes you that famous or anything, but I'd imagine it's at least on par with being a linebackers coach.

What kind of wink was this? Was it the kind I imagine you gave during that Daily photo shoot you gave? Or was it more like a wink that said "you're on the right track guy?" Or was it a wink cause he had something in his eye like George on Seinfeld?

Brian--

We still think you are awesome. You are still our fearless leader even if our fearless leader looks like a terrorist.

...that made my nite.

When I met Barack Obama at a rally, all I could say was smile for the camera. He then simply walked away without any expression on his face. I felt honored.

I knew where Lloyd Carr lived in 1997 and went trick or treating at his house on Halloween. I tried to convince him he should give Dreisbach some playing time. Now THAT was a tool move. Him and his wife turned off the porch light as soon as he closed the door.

I expected better candy though. I think we got Brach's.

As lame as it sounds, Brian's story reminds me of the time I ran into the former owner of Bella Napoli at Meijer... I asked him what happened to his pizzeria, and he was very curt. But he did tell me he opened up a new restaurant nearby. Anyone remember him? He was such a wannabe mobster...

God I can't believe I forgot to mention this: A cold, snowy night last year and I'm leaving Conor O'Neill's to make my way back to campus, fortified by my newly acquired Jameson overcoat. I bumped into Greg Mathews on the otherwise empty street and said, simply, 'Hey, it's Greg Mathews.' He was impressed I recognized him; couldn't have been nicer. I wished him luck in the Capital One Bowl. Then he pointed to the guy next to him, obviously a teammate, and asked, 'You know who this is?' He was testing my Michigan football knowledge. I said, sorry, no I do not. It was Jonas Mouton, and I think I may have hurt his feelings, or at least left a nice bruise on his ego.

For those wondering if people recognize Brian and have the urge to blurt something out, yes of course. I sit in the row in front of him at hockey games and every time he walks by I think hey it's Brian! Say something! But then I realize I have nothing to say other than I read your blog obsessively, which might be borderline stalker. So I just kind of gawk at the local celebrity and quickly look away.

That's a great story. Well done Brian.

On a completely unrelated tangent, I sat a table over from Derek Jeter at the Cheesecake Factory here in Tampa last Wednesday and he had a Michigan t-shirt on. I was wearing my Michigan hoody and I almost said Go Blue! before I realized who it was. I refrained, but it was nice seeing a big name sports figure repping the Maize and Blue. Also big ups to Kalamazoo.

"The real pressing question here is, have you ever been in public and had to deal with random guy (whom you presumably don't know) shouting out "BRIAN COOK"?"

"For those wondering if people recognize Brian and have the urge to blurt something out, yes of course. I sit in the row in front of him at hockey games and every time he walks by I think hey it's Brian! Say something! But then I realize I have nothing to say other than I read your blog obsessively, which might be borderline stalker. So I just kind of gawk at the local celebrity and quickly look away."

on a related note, i've had the courage to actually walk up to him @ Yost & say hello a couple times. nice guy. we watched one of the BU games together, i think.

oh, and i'm not really stalking you brian.... i swear. i'm just desperate to talk college hockey w/ someone besides my wife.

I was in a dorm where the RA was a hot chick who was surreptitiously dating an UM hockey player (a captain at the time). I woke up early for a class and saw him leaving her DORM room at the same time I was leaving. I wanted to ask him, "hey, did you check her from behind or score a hat trick last night?" but I refrained since she was my RA.

A few years ago I bumped into Thomas Haden Church in a hotel gym in downtown Pittsburgh. It was in November, maybe seven months before he would portray "The Sandman" in Spider-Man 3. I could've said something much better, perhaps saying how much worse the world was without Lowell Mather.

But, of course, I froze and could only manage "Hey Tom! How's that Spider-Man movie gonna turn out?"

He looked me in the eye for about three seconds... then said "Oh, yeah, it's gonna be great!" But it was very clear to me that his eyes said "That movie is gonna suck balls."

And it did.

I met Larry from "Three's Company"...ok I got nothing.

Carry on.

Bo Schembechler, dog food aisle at Meijer's, 1993. Speechless.

Larry Fitzgerald was in a class my wife taught at Pitt. He was very laid back and modest, even though the Heisman campaign was rolling and his picture was on the side of every bus in town.

There was a time in the NBA's distant history that it staged doubleheaders at MSG -- the old MSG on 49th Street and 8th Avenue (actually there's an older MSG that was actually at Madison Square -- but I'm not that old!). The Knicks would play the second game of a doubleheader, usually against the Celtics or Philadelphia Warriors, and two nondescript teams like the Cincinnati Royals would play in the opener. On the night in question, the Knicks were playing the Celts in the second game. Anyway, I'm walking up 8th Avenue from the Port Authority Bus Terminal at 40th Street with a couple of friends. For some reason as we reached 48th Street, we began to question our directions and wonder where in the world the Garden was. A tall gentleman standing next to us told us it was another block. The tall gentleman was Bill Russell. All we could murmur was thanks. BTW, how many NBA players do you think walk to games these days????

If I ran into Brian Cook I'm pretty sure I'd yell, "Look it's Brain Cook!" Then if he looked at me i'd ask him "are you going to bring back Haloscan?" or I'd just blurt out "get a hair cut you hippy freak!" I haven't decided yet.

I saw Steve McNair at the Nashville airport. All I said was, "[little brother] go back and check if that was Steve McNair." I should have said, "Hey Steve, remember that time you played at Alcorn State? Yeah, that was really cool." Or I could have said, "are you really 'country strong?' Because I heard an announcer say that. Oh yeah, what does that mean?"

I pissed next to Bobby Knight in a urinal at the Atlanta airport once. He looked at my dick and called me a "pussy faggot" before he left.

I shied away from Mike Tyson at the Atlanta Airport once. We were both sitting waiting for a Delta flight to Vegas, me and myself, he and his entourage. He was sitting directly across from me and was terrifying. I made eye contact and figured the best thing I could do would be to acknowledge recognition and then keep quiet, hoping he'd appreciate me leaving him alone. That guy had me intimidated from his seat.

When I was 9, I went to Atlanta to watch a Braves game. Tree Rollins (former Orlando Magic Center) was training in my hotel weight room. I assume he was on vacation.

Derek Jeter bought me and my friends a drink at Rick's 3 years ago Friday before OSU game. I hate the yankees, but I can tolerate Jeter after meeting him.

Warning: the following gets a bit crude. I was very reluctant to share this story as it involves a few details that are, at best, crass. I think it's hilarious, but I also understand that reasonable minds can differ and some people get a bit offended by stuff of this nature. After reading through some of the encounters listed throughout this thread, I simply couldn't resist the temptation to share...

My brother-in-law attended Michigan in the early-90's, roughly 10 years before I did. During a drunken evening at Rick's (the Hotness) in 1994, he was in the bathroom having just relieved himself and turned to cede his stall to the next patron eager to do the same. When he stepped out, it was clear that the person who just walked by him was none other than towering tight end Jay Riemersma (he might still have been a QB at the time--not sure). Now, anyone who's been to Rick's recently or in 1994 is probably well acquainted with many of its dubious features--the shark bowls; plumes of cigarette smoke that hang like a fog (the norm in 1994, anyway); extremely low ceilings dripping with condensate from your own sweat; the lingering warmth of body heat and body odor; the single fire sprinkler that would be useless in a fire because everyone would get trampled in a frantic dash towards the exit; and so on. Anyway, another interesting part about Rick's is the stall situation in the Men's room. They're comprised of painted cinder blocks stacked chest-high, there are no doors, and no one really pays much attention to this unless Jay Riemersma enters the stall you just vacated...

...So, Riemersma walks in the stall and my semi-drunk brother-in-law is struck by the sight of this 8-foot-tall gigantor who is pretty much waist-level with the top of the stall. He's also talking loudly (Riemersma, that is). My bro staggers through a cloud of smoke towards the door, but sort of hangs around to listen to what's going on, captivated by this whole scene. Apparently, Riemersma is standing there draining it when he leans towards the stall to his left and very-demonstratively looks at the, um, "junk" of the gentleman standing there. This person happens to be, in the parlance of our times, 'of color.' According to my bro, he would have seemed like an imposing figure had he not been standing next to Big Jay--not a wimpy guy, in other words. Anyhoo, Riemersma lets out a hearty-but-clearly-fake laugh and looks up at the guy, making eye contact for about two seconds. At this point, pretty much everyone in the bathroom is watching the scene unfold. The two men are locked eye-to-eye when Riemersma looks down at the guy's "junk" again and then back up to his eyes, and says loudly, "I thought you guys were supposed to have big dicks...that must suck..."

Ladies and gentlemen, Jay Riemersma!