When a quiet Friday night at home includes highlights like Dwight Howard christening Marc Gasol ‘Baby Jesus’ and James Harden ‘Moses’ (apparently all unkempt beards are biblical in Dwight’s world. I wonder what he thinks of Ted Kaczynski) and Vince Vaughn playing the Dan Aykroyd Memorial ‘What is He Doing There?’ role in the We Are The World cast, you know you are in for a good weekend.

Unless, of course you are unfortunate enough to make the IOC look idiotic and die in the process because you will then take complete blame for an accident that has literally been foreshadowed for months. But I digress…

As mentioned in passing in my last post, I am currently sitting in Dallas /Fort Worth airport waiting for my flight back home in Denver. While my time here in Dallas was short (arriving late Saturday and leaving Monday afternoon), my life has irrevocably changed in this time.

It isn’t that I can now appreciate the presidency of George W. Bush or have a new found love of cowboy boots and dually trucks. No, my life has changed in that I am now in the Guinness Book of World Records.

Last night I was part of the largest crowd to ever attend a basketball game, when me, 108,000 of my closest friends and Jerry Jones attended the NBA All Star Game at Dallas Cowboys stadium.

So, what is Jerry World like? I’m glad you asked as I have compiled my comments, thoughts, and observations on the afternoon I spent with Uncle Burrito in JerryWorld.

You may be trying to figure out who this mysterious Uncle Burrito is and whether he is my Doctor Gonzo – a semi-mythical character sort of made up to enhance a story. Alas, he is not as I am not nearly as creative (or chemically-assisted) as Hunter S. Thompson. Uncle Burrito is actually old friend and THH cohort Turner.

Our hosts for the weekend were Turner’s brother and sister-in-law, Mavs season ticket holders, the stylishly named Dave and his wife Ashley as well as their little ones Emily and Drew. As the story goes, when Turner’s oldest was first speaking (Jacob , the Colts fan from the Super Bowl THH a couple weeks ago), he had trouble with Uncle Dave’s name, calling him what sounded like ‘Uncle Beef’. In retaliation, when Emily was born they decided to name Turner ‘Uncle Burrito’. Thus the legend was born.

The fact that the first two places Turner requested we go while in Dallas were both burrito places, I am sure that was just a coincidence. As are the stomach pains I have had since.

And, don’t think Uncle Burrito won’t make an appearance again when THH returns. That nickname is just too fun.

Anyway, yesterday afternoon we ventured out into the cold and headed west (or south? Or east? I can never tell in Dallas) to the new Cowboys stadium. It first appeared on the horizon when we were roughly 25 miles from it but it was enormous looking even then. After parking in our designated lot ($50, the most expensive parking spot I have ever left a car) we made our way up to the side of the building and saw a quarter mile long line waiting to get through security. Being completely and totally impatient (and freezing in the damp 40 degree air), we decided to walk around to another side of the building.

After a brisk 15 minute walk (seriously, this place is huge and the 4 gates they were using for non-VIPs were not close. And no I am not exaggerating, they were using 4 gates), we found another line that was significantly shorter.

Cowboys Stadium as seen on Lap #4 looking for an entrance

As we stood in line, we noticed people near the front of the line beginning to aimlessly wander back across the brown grass vaguely toward the death march we had just left and started worrying that this line was too good to be true. If there had been any stadium personnel around we might have been able to ask but the only guy there was just selling obscenely priced All Star memorabilia lanyards for holding your ticket. So, we waited. And waited. Finally as we got near we walked up to the front and confirmed this entrance was only for certain sections (G,H and J if my frost bitten memory serves – we were in C).

Yes, Jerry Jones built a billion dollar stadium that you can’t get from one section to another – there is no walking around the stadium in Jerry World. Apparently, that would have cost $1.2 billion and he felt that would be too extravagant.

So, we buttoned up our coats and continued around to the next side, still having no idea where we could actually get in since (again) there were no signs and no one telling you where you can get in and where you can’t.

We tried our third line of the day and after another interminable delay finally reached the multi-stage security to get in the stadium. There will be no shoe-bombers in JerryWorld.

After making it through security we celebrated…by finding out they hadn’t opened the doors to the place yet. Two hours before game time. With a couple thousand people standing around with nowhere to go.

Luckily as we got to the lines for the doors, they were opened and Wal-Mart on black Friday at 4 am was re-enacted right in front of us. To milk every last drop out of his investment…I mean, ensure as many people as possible could see the game, Jerry had sold Standing Room Only tickets, which meant first people in got the prime seats on the rail of all walkways and stairwells (the ones that could actually see something) while everyone else would spend the next 5 hours trying to see over other people’s heads. That is a $30 well spent.

Given we had actual seats, this wouldn’t have been our concern, except everyone rushed through the doors like a 1979 Who concert in Cincinnati and then proceeded to clog up every single walkway. This also would have also been ok, if we knew how to get to our seats.

True to the lack of signage or help outside, once inside there were no signs or helpers to get you to your seats.

Though our section was labeled C338, we were actually supposed to enter the K section entrance and not the C section entrance (ironically a C-section might be preferable to entering the C-section). Thus, after wandering for a good 20 minutes across three levels, through cramped hallways poorly designed with stairwells directly in front of natural bottlenecks like the Pro Shop and low-hanging concrete ceilings (because it isn’t like tall people like basketball) we finally had to barge our way into a private club area, ask three separate people where to go and take an unmarked elevator to get to our seats.

It turns out our seats were in a Club section and only accessible through an unmarked stairway or through the club area we entered originally. This would have been good to know, if, you know, it were written somewhere that we could see and then follow.  Kind of a wild concept.

On the bright side, as all of the stairways were virtually unmarked I am pretty sure we would have been the only ones to survive a fire.

Once, in our seats the real JerryWorld experience commenced. We had soft padded seats and sat directly in front of the enormous HDTV we have all heard about.

In fact this to me is the great contradiction of Cowboys stadium. It is a great event viewing experience but getting to your actual seats is a complete and total nightmare.

In short, it seems like a stadium designed by a guy who has never attended a stadium as a normal fan. Which I guess it was. When you whisk from your private entrance to your private suite guided by 5 different yes-men, things like logical entrances, hallway accessibility, directions, signs and helpful staff never cross your mind.

If you watched the telecast you saw just about everything else I saw that night. In fact, in a lot of ways we almost watched the game in the same way. Sure, I was there live, but with the TV screen dwarfing the live court below, it was almost impossible to watch the actual players. Why strain to see microscopic basketball players when just above their heads was an awesome HD projection of the same action. You had to make a conscious effort to actually watch the game because your eyes would naturally drift up to the screen. Since, you may have had the same experience I did (less the stampedes, long lines in cold weather and overpriced Miller Lite) I will short-hand the rest of the night to a few highlights:

Which would you watch? The court or the TV?

- I watched the dunk contest Saturday night from DFW airport waiting for Turner’s plane to arrive. As has been re-counted endlessly by now, it was the most boring, uninspired, uninteresting dunk contest ever held. However I have an easy fix. Send Nate Robinson back to the Knicks bench and next year have the Mascots participate in the dunk contest. During one of the early timeouts, several NBA mascots came out and did a series of really awesome, impressive dunks. Even if they use a trampoline, I would take that over 4 variations on the alley-oop any night. Especially when the Mascots were followed by a number of Mavs cheerleaders also dunking. That was enlightening in a completely different way.

- Turner re-named Raptor Chris Bosh ‘Avatar’ thanks to his hair giving him a particularly Nav’i-ish look. Thus while the Dallas-native made his best effort to win an MVP, section C338 was subjected to constant ‘AVATAR!’ shouts from Turner. You would think a guy going by the name Uncle Burrito would be a little more forgiving in the nickname arena.

 - When we first walked in the arena, Turner noticed that they were selling Frito Pies at one of the concession stands. He was giddy about it, and always willing to try the local flavor, I dove in and bought a bowl at halftime while Shakira did her best audition for the Peepin’ Tom night club just down the road. Frito pie is exactly what you think (and fear) it is. A pile of Fritos with a mound of chili and nacho cheese-like substance on top. Was it good? Sure. Was it worth the 4 and a half months it took off my life? Probably not.

A Texas Delicacy. Dubya makes more sense now, huh?

- I am obviously a Western Conference guy (along with 87% of the crowd by my estimation) but I have to admit by the middle of the second quarter I sort of felt like the Eastern Conference deserved to win.

While the West was keeping the score close with Steve Nash lay-ups, Melo put-backs and Nowitzki 18-foot jump shots (an attempt to get the home town boy an MVP about as obvious as choosing to train the camera on Steve Nash when playing O’ Canada before the game), the East scored on a series of alley-oops involving LeBron and Wade (which must have had the same effect as a late-night HBO porno on Heat fans) and thunderous Dwight Howard dunks. Not only, were they playing well but the East was having fun and entertaining the crowd. Isn’t that what the All Star Game is all about?

Well, there is entertaining the crowd and if you are named Jerry Jones, bilking people of their every cent while doing your best to make them curse your name before they even to get their seat. Despite his best attempts, though, Jerry couldn’t ruin a fun time.

Thanks to the generosity of Dave and Ashley, I had an amazing time both attending my first All Star game and seeing the most outrageous stadium in the world. Not even Jerry Jones could screw that up.

Will, I ever return to Jerry World? Only if the Broncos make next year’s Super Bowl – so, I’m gonna say probably not.

But if I do, at least next time I will know where the secret staircase is.

Tagged as: 2010 all star game, chris bosh, cowboys stadium, dallas, jerry jones, nba