I was part of Jim Daves' crack PR staff that "handled damage control" on the Billy Joe Hobert loan scandal.
I remember walking out of a building downtown Seattle the week of Arizona 1992 and seeing the headline on the Times about Billy Joe in the newspaper box.
What is a newspaper and why is it in a box?
Anyway, got physically ill at the sight of it.
The day the music died
I had a job as an assistant or intern or some shit in the sports information office. I made $5 an hour and got some kind of credit for my worthless Communications degree. I happened to be "on duty" the afternoon that the news first hit.
I was dispatched to the pedestrian bridge over Montlake Blvd across from the Graves building to tell players who were headed to practice not to talk to any media. That really sucked, because I was delivering really shitty news to those guys.
Dan Raley, Art Thiel and several other local fishwrap shitheels were skulking around trying to get quotes from players who hadn't been briefed yet.
What a disaster. And the 1992 recruiting class was going to be special too, Dick Baird told me so (literally).
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Our paths have crossed.