Well, here’s a shocker. I was wrong about something.

    I was wrong about Art Monk getting into the Hall of Fame. Turns out enough the voters finally felt it was time to put Monk in. He deserves it. He shouldn’t have had to wait eight years, but as he said, what matters is getting in.
   
  It was interesting to hear the emotion in his voice and to see the emotion of Darrell Green, who also got in yesterday. Green had a pretty good idea he was getting in. He was in Phoenix, and had his entire family with him. That’s a pretty good indication that a guy is confident he’s going to be selected.
   
    You’d think that when you’re that sure of something, you’d be kind of matter of fact when it actually happened. But I guess when you’re selected for something that big, and it is very big to the players, you can’t help but be emotional.

  I was thinking the emotion Monk would feel would be relief. He’d been rejected seven times. But relief wasn’t it. From listening to him on the phone—he didn’t come to Phoenix, and you can’t blame him for that—it was clear that he was excited, and he seemed to be fighting back tears.

    And now, back to the Super Bowl.
   
    Things are very quiet downtown for Super Bowl city. I’m getting ready to go out shortly, and things might be hopping. But last night, which usually is a pretty big night for crowds, there weren’t that many people downtown. Of course, if we get to a restaurant and have an hour’s wait, I’ll change my mind on that.

    I will say that the people of Phoenix have been very hospitable this week. And thorough. You have to have a badge to get into the media center. The security people check your badge when you come in the door of the convention center, when you go down the steps, when you walk into the media front of the media work area and when you walk into the back of the media work area, where you sit and work. There’s a guy who stands between the first section of steps and the second section of steps leading to the media work area, and he’s looked at my badge so often that he smiles and say hello like he actually recognizes me.

    We wear these badges or credentials or whatever you call them, around our necks. They hang to just above our belts. It’s interesting to walk past somebody and find them gazing at your stomach in an attempt to learn who you are. Everybody does it. Sometimes, I think it would be easier if we just held our badges up to chest level as we walk around.

  It’s kind of like that Seinfeld episode where Lloyd Braun suggests to Mayor Dinkins that everybody in New York wear name tags so they’ll get to know each other.

    And, yes, sooner or later everything does come back to Seinfeld for me.

    And now, to dinner.