The FanHouse Intern on the Bill Simmons Book Tour

WASHINGTON -- No one covers book signings. There is probably a reason for this. But with the second Bill Simmons book tour commencing in Washington on Monday, it seemed like a good enough idea. At the least, 15-year-old, Page 2-gobbling me would be quite delighted.

I called a friend of mine to inform him of my ever-bloggable plan. "You mean like Deadspin did for his first tour?" came the reply. Pause. Google search. Well, then.

Despite this inauspicious start, I buckled up and headed out with another buddy. The Sports Guy was waiting.

As we approached ESPN Zone, a man walked out sporting a green "Believe in Boston" T-Shirt and Sox cap. Yup, we were at the right place. Stepping in, we were met by a wall of people, which funneled into somewhat of a line toward the front. We walked past.

Inside, Simmons was milling around, waiting to cut the ribbon on the Book of Basketball. He typed voraciously on his cell. It was now past the scheduled start time. I cursed my parents for not blessing me with an iPhone. What was he tweeting? Well, apparently this:



Simmons had his game face on. The champ waiting to face down an endless line of adoring fans, armed only with six pens. I counted.

I was sitting with a friend at a table a short distance away, scheming on how to cut the absurd line that continued to swell on the other side of the main floor. This was a Harry Potter opening with Celtics jerseys in lieu of wizard cloaks. I was beginning to doubt that I'd ever meet my once and former sportswriting idol.

Then, I got a text. It was my lady. "Good luck at the book signing! You'll be great!" Inspiration! That'll make for a decent anecdote, I thought. Then I got up, walked over to Simmons, and shook his hand. "I'm Mike Katz, FanHouse intern. Mind if I stick my Flip Cam in your face for a minute?"

This was the wrong question. Now, I'm writing from memory, but what followed was approximately this conversation:

"Can't do any video on the tour, ESPN rules," Simmons said.

"Really?"

"Yeah, you don't know who you can trust," he continued. "You seem trustworthy, but still."

"I'm a nice guy," I said. "Look, I wear glasses. Nice guys wear glasses."

"Yeah, just can't be sure. Don't want anything in the wrong hands."

I looked down at my hands. They looked OK to me.
We continued to talk for a few minutes until the Redskins lined up for an onside kick in the waning minutes of the Monday Night Football game. Simmons had the Eagles, and was more interested in his money than he was me. Understandable.

He wished me luck in my career. I walked back to my seat thinking, "Well, I've met Bill Simmons. Now I can die in peace."

But the night was not done. After careful scoping of the premises, and eying of the security guards, my friend and I were able to cut all but twenty or so people in line. Heroic effort.

I paid the $30 for the book (ed. note: JESUS!), and sighed as the man behind the table forked it over.

"It's heavy," I exclaimed.

"Ha ha, I guess it is heaven," he replied. Sure. Same difference.

Soon it was time to get the book signed. I asked Simmons if he could write a doctors' note to my FanHouse bosses, excusing me for not having any video. He chuckled (score!) and obliged.


Michael Katz is a senior journalism major at the University of Maryland and childhood worshiper at the Temple of Simmons. He is also in the running for FanHouse Intern of the Year.