intercepted

walking out of the hotel, the doorman accosts me and makes small talk. things like when am i leaving town and would i need a car. sure i do, i said. he recommends a driver, quoted same price as i paid with the taxi that i rode in last week who got lost all over downtown - what the heck, ok, i said.

"so where you from?" he asks.

New York, i say.

"really? that's where i retired, man." he points to an "NFL Alumni" pin.


holy crap. i look at his name tag.

"played for the Jets."

holy crap.


so i say, does the 'W' stand for 'William'?


stupid, stupid, stupid.


"Google me, man." gave me his card.


to think that a former NFL defensive back who retired the year i was born would be familiar with Google. he kinda looks like Bill Russell, and he has big hands (which served him well in his career). he's a shining example of athletes who avoid drowning in the trappings of fame and fortune. i apologize for not knowing you, Mr. Hicks. hats off.


W.K. Hicks, INT leader in 1965, a Pro Bowler in 1966, now works as head captain and ambassador for the Lancaster Hotel in downtown Houston.