Michael Phelps is a media gravitron (think of an omnidirectional tractor beam). In the last week, his ability and charisma have propelled him beyond mortal status. He needs a name more epic than “the Baltimore bullet”. While I do think that Phelps should audition for any upcoming Aquaman films, the only name that will encompass the supernatural essence of his performances isn’t so cheesy. Poseidon! The god of the sea is in Beijing! I’m going to go into overdrive to promote this nickname as I’m pretty sure it will be the first time that full-blooded, Greek-god status has been applied to an athlete. Celebs have been showing up in full force to feed of the Phelps frenzy. Ironically, since I see Poseidon every single day as I work in the NAC, I’m actually a lot giddier to see the people that come to see him. Here’s the breakdown of people that came into my personal space while catching a glimpse of Michael Megastar (you could also say that I actually came into their space, whatever):
W: That's right, the big cheese himself made an appearance. I was able to identify ten layers of Secret Service in the 20 feet that seperated me from POTUS, so even though I could only count 12 bodies, I made a safe estimate that the real number was closer to 37 agents denying me from meeting the Commander in Chief. I grabbed a clipboard and acted like needed to walk by on urgent business. I was stopped. I tried to wave. He acted like he didn't see me, but I think he was just trying to play it cool.
Cindy Crawford: Some people try to say she used to be hot. I was within 10 steps, and I'm telling you she still looks good. Besides, she's the original cover girl which makes her all-time. Her hotness is similar to Phelps' reference to the gold medal in responce to Children's BBC, "Your Birthday is once a year. Christmas is once a year. A gold medal stays with you forever.
John Howard: I brushed shoulders with the former Prime Minister of Australia. I was foolishly telling a member of his band how nobody crossed the bridge once competition had started while my manager was shaking Mr. Howard's hand and letting the whole crew cross the rope. Another blown opportunity to press the flesh with greatness.
NBA Ballers: The men who are the greatest athletes in the world are going crazy over another man's accomplishment. These guys don't get excited about getting a new Lamborghini, but Kobe and LeBron are jumping around like five-year-olds that just got a PS3 for Christmas when Poseidon graces the waters. Just an hour ago I made an attempt to talk to my favorite baller Dwight Howard. I was denied by security and had to watch while a hoard of Hungarian honeys (divers I believe) threw themselves at Dwight. Mr. Howard handled the situation with a poise that was as epic as the breadth of his shoulders. He bowed out politely and left the venue with Chris Bosh.
Chris Collinsworth: Success! I deliver start lists and result sheets to Chris and the NBC crew at the medal rounds this morning. He was taller and looker more senatorial than I expected but my previous frustrations prepared me to be undaunted. I looked him in the eye made a totally proffessional self-introduction and told him "If there is anything else you'll be needing up here, let me know and I'll do all I can to accommodate you." I was thanked. It was awesome!
Carry on Poseidon! As your immortal feats continue to draw celebrities to my inner circle, I will continue to stalk them like a crazy person until I get the opportunity to talk to them. At that moment, I will act like I'm totally unimpressed by their worldly importance.
On a humorous note, it has been confirmed that their is indeed a BOB (Beijing Olympic Committee) car driver named Wang Wei (pronounced Whong Way). I don't care who you are. That's funny!