Que Sarah, Sarah

Monday, March 24, 2008

Flashback to Super Bowl XLI - Part 3...the best of the WORST

http://theloveofsports.com/index.php/site/comments/welcome_to_this_planet/

By Sarah Spain
Love of Sports Correspondent

Less than five minutes after my Chicago Bears defeated the Saints in last year's NFC Championship, I had already booked my flight to Miami for the Super Bowl.

I had nowhere to stay and no ticket to the game, but my friends and I had all vowed to find a way to get to there. Unfortunately, in the ensuing week, all my friends bailed.

Some cited monetary reasons, others claimed they couldn't miss work. A few more wanted to stay in (or go back home to) Chicago for the game instead.

Tickets were going for at least $4,000 apiece, and every hotel I checked was booked up. So, there I was, a week and a half from showtime and, if I didn't act fast, I'd be alone in Miami, watching the game at a bar with strangers.

So, I got creative.

A week and a half before the game, I placed an ad on eBay "selling" myself as a date to the Super Bowl. I posted a picture of myself in a Bears cheerleading costume I'd made for Halloween the year before and warned any potential bidders that I was NOT an escort and I DIDN'T want money.

I was simply trying to find a way to get to the game. Having worked in PR for several years, I figured I might get the attention of a radio station holding a contest or maybe charm someone into offering up a seat in their company box.

The next morning, I woke up to over 800 e-mails. To make a long story short: it worked.

The story got picked up by newspapers, blogs, radio stations and TV shows. Less than 48 hours after my initial eBay posting, I got a call from the ad people for AXE male grooming products. They wanted to give me four tickets to the game — three for me and two of my girlfriends and one for a lucky contest winner.

I had less than a week to hold an online contest and pick one guy from across the nation to come to the game and party with us in Miami.

Needless to say, the reaction to my scheme and the responses to my contest were extreme. Some praised my ingenuity and PR-savvy. Others labeled me an attention-seeking whore. In honor of the fast-approaching 2008 Super Bowl, I thought I'd share pieces of some of the most entertaining e-mails I received from potential Super Bowl suitors …

E-Mail No. 1

Sarah, I've actually got four front row tickets on the Bears sideline, so why don't you bring the whole family. I'll charter a private jet and fly you all down to Miami for a good old fashion time. Maybe I can even meet your paw. And if you happen to need an extra organ or eye, I'd be happy to donate. Just let me know what your blood type is. All I ask in return is that you pick up the beer and food. That $21.50 I'll save will totally be worth it. And thanks for clearing up the "escort" issue. That could have been awkward. If you had been an escort, I wouldn't have taken you. I don't date escorts; just random hot girls I meet on eBay. Let me know where you want the tickets sent. And don't worry, I'll pay for shipping. See you on gameday! Unless, of course, you'd prefer to take a friend. In that case I'll just send you my ticket as well.

Sincerely, Stupid McSuckerstein

E-Mail No. 2

Are you f---ing serious? You'd need to be considerably more attractive for me to even TAKE you if I had an extra ticket, and you're asking someone to PAY you to give you a spare one? Geez, welcome to this planet!

E-Mail No. 3

Hey babe, Ickey noticed your ad on MySpace. Ickey, as a former NFL baller, has access to tickets, but Ickey isn't going to pay or bid on some auction for companionship. If you are what I think you are, then Ickey is probably your best bet for the game. And if you don't remember Ickey, Ickey alludes you to 1988-1989 Cincinnati Bengals. Check the records, Ickey is very familiar with Super Bowls in Miami.

Regards, Ickey Woods

E-Mail No. 4

There is only one thing that three hot women would need in Miami … a SERVANT! Think about it. You've already got everything else you'll need. You just need someone to fetch you drinks, massage you when you need, paint your nails while you're sipping Mai Tais poolside, carry your bags while you shop, help you get dressed for your dates, protect you while you're out at night, fetch your breakfast in the morning for you and whomever you might bring home the night before, and someone who would be willing to wear a chastity device while he's around you and hand you the key so you feel 100% safe. I am at your service.

E-Mail No. 5

The picture attached (there was a picture, by the way) is a picture of me with my ex-girlfriend. She broke up with me a week ago after three years. Her and my best friend are now a happy couple. And all I can do is find the bottom of a bottle of Captain Morgan's since she broke my heart. I am a diehard Eagles fan, but also a Bears fan now since the Saints knocked the Eagles out. Anyway, since about two weeks ago my life has been really depressing. Right now, all I have going for me is the fact that I just finished pissing on all the pictures of me and my girlfriend - and me and my best friend. It was fun for a solid minute or two, but than I started to puke all over the place and was rushed to the hospital for alcohol poisoning. I am not a drinker, but it's my new hobby now since becoming single. She was the girl for me. I saw us growing old together. At our wedding, I saw my best friend being my best man. Now I've got nothing. Maybe a Super Bowl ticket could cure my blues. If not, have fun! Time for me to hit the bottle again.

E-Mail No. 6

I gotta ask you, how in God's name are you pulling this off? I mean, you're hot. I'll give you that. But still, how have you convinced so many people to be willing to not only give you one of their Super Bowl tickets, but pay you two grand on top of that?? Especially since, for that price, they could bring someone who IS an escort. Strong work. Testament to the stupidity of the male sex.

E-Mail No. 7

Here's my story and why I should be your date for the Super Bowl XLI ... I was born the son of a sharecropper in the avocado forests of Northwest Cook County in Illinois. I never met my mom, because she ran away before I was born. My pops spent most of his spare time and money on his collection of lacquered turtle shells, so I never saw much of him, either. When I was three, pops traded me to a troupe of Guatemalan circus midgets traveling through town in exchange for a BB gun and a pair of X-Ray glasses. The midgets took me on a 10-year circus tour of North America, during which time I was trained in the fine arts of midget tossing, pitching tents and cleaning up after elephants. When I was 12, I lost my virginity to the Bearded Lady (I'm still not sure why she always wanted to be called "Uncle Fred"). Shortly after that, I escaped the circus by starting a stampede in the rodent pen and hiding behind a raccoon when he slipped under the fence. Free at last! I spent the next few years bouncing around from job to job. I did the usual teenage stuff ... flipping burgers at McDonalds, errand boy for the Unibomber, quality control at a whorehouse, fluffer for lesbian porn flicks, etc, etc. Somehow I managed to find my way to college on a band scholarship (I can play a mean triangle). The college years are mostly blurry, but I have a piece of paper that says I graduated, so I guess I did OK. Eventually I made my way to San Diego, where I invented both Mexicans and fish tacos and taught everyone how to surf. Now I just want a ticket to see my Chicago Bears take the Colts to the glue factory! Please don't make me sell my soul to the devil!

E-Mail No. 8

Hi. As I am writing this, I am slowly dying of a rare disease I caught when I was in Africa helping orphans ravaged by war this past summer. The real sad thing is it prevents me from doing my usual work, which is helping rehabilitate crippled puppies. Add to that, my elderly mother and my 10 little siblings will need someone to care for them after my days on Earth are done. The only sliver of happiness I have is that my beloved Bears are in the Super Bowl!

Interesting, eh?

Of course, while sifting through all the crazies and random a-holes, I actually came across some truly creative responses. The eventual winner's e-mail was sweet, funny, honest and genuine .. and made no mention of a crazy ex or offers of servitude (just in case you guys are taking notes).

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