I have been to 25 Super Bowls and six Olympic Games. I have been to the NBA Finals and seen Michael Jordan and I have been to hockey church, the Stanley Cup Finals in the Montreal Forum. I saw Bird and Magic at the Final Four as a kid (along with those Cinderella Penn Quakers), and I saw Magic a generation later run out onto the court from the stands to celebrate with a new set of kids from Michigan State and a new national championship.
I have been to the Masters often enough to know the closing times of local restaurants. I have walked on the Old Course at St. Andrews. I have seen cricket played in Manchester, England, and I have seen the Little League World Series in Williamsport, Pa. I have been to jai alai in Tijuana and been in Saskatchewan to watch a guy skate across Canada for a cause. I saw where they hit golf balls near the DMZ between North and South Korea and watched the Eagles play football games in London and Tokyo.
I have worked at a great place, for great people, during a great era. I have been luckier, much luckier, than most, and I know it.
But I have never been to the NFL scouting combine.
I feel cheated.