A few espresso shots

Cowboys quarterback Tony Romo was recently seen on the L.A. scene this past weekend partying with Britney Spears and her most recent bottom-dwelling sycophant, who goes by the name of Alli Sims. According to the bio on her website, Ms. Sims first become famous for winning the talent division for singing The Little Mermaid's "Part of this World" and again the following year for singing "Someone Watch Over Me"... in her high school talent pageant. With that kind of undeniable talent, I cannot fathom how she has not landed the lead role in a major motion picture as of yet.

More gems from her website: "My grandmother always encouraged me to follow my passion, which was singing. Singing was the one time that I felt completely happy and confident. No matter where I was or what I was doing, I was singing a song or humming a tune." I wonder what she's singing and who she's humming when she swills Mojitos in the VIP lounge with Tony and Brit. I bet it isn't a song from a Walt Disney Movie.

According to People magazine, Mr. Romo and Brit's pal Alli are "longtime friends", and have "known each other for a little over a year." Yep. That's what passes for a longtime friendship in Hollywood. I couldn't help notice that their "friendship" began at about the same time Romo got the starting job in Dallas. Oh, sorry, that's just so cynical of me. I'm sure their "friendship" is based on mutual respect and dedication to help each other in times of need, and not the desire to feed each other's ego.

She said my breasts, they will always be open, baby You can rest your weary head right on me And there will always be a space in my parking lot When you need a little coke and sympathy - Mick Jagger, "Let It Bleed," 1969

Some songs really are timeless, aren't they? Somebody better drug test Romo ASAP because cocaine only lasts in your system for a few days, from what I understand.

While we're sort of on the topic of football, it was gut wrenchingly depressing to watch Joe Gibbs stand stoically on the sidelines this past Sunday while the New England Cheatriots pummeled his Redskins, 52-7, in Cheatsboro, Cheatachusetts. I am an unabashed worshiper of Joe Gibbs and will support him through anything. That hasn't changed. However, I was left to wonder where he goes from here.

Perhaps his team can still scratch and claw their way to a playoff birth, despite losing eleven thousand starters to injuries. They remain a winning team at 4-3 on the eve of a trip to New York to face a hapless 1-7 Jets team. If the Redskins do make the playoffs, Gibbs can then return his focus to his racing team next year, having theoretically left the Redskins in better shape that when he found them, with his pride intact.

But seeing a man who once dominated his profession get rolled and thrashed like a bloated gazelle in the mouth of a crocodile is a painful sight. I kept thinking that Saint Joe was somehow capable of unleashing a gridiron supernova upon us, and part of his genius lay in the fact that he was saving it for when it counted. And perhaps he still is saving that explosion, but it doesn't seem likely. No coach would allow their team to get beat by 45 points if they could avoid it. The Redskins would have at least one touchdown pass to a wide receiver by now.

It reminds me of a former model who continues to dine out on her looks, and as time goes on, her dinner dates get older, portlier and a little less wealthy. Say it ain't so, Joe.

The 52-7 thrashing reminded me of Super Bowl XXVI, when Gibbs' Redskins defeated the Buffalo Bills, 37-24. Midway through the fourth quarter, the Redskins led, 37-10, and had a first and goal inside the Bills' five yard line. At that point in the game, the Redskins could have done anything they wanted; they could have run the ball in to make the score 44-10 with little to no difficulty. They could have called a pass to any of their posse of receivers. They could have kicked a field goal for a nice, even 40 points.

But that's not what they did. Gibbs instructed his quarterback, Mark Rypien, to kneel down four times, mercifully turning the ball over and saving the Bills from further embarrassment. That is what's known as "showing class" - Gibbs never sought to embarrass people.

Every so often, a football team comes along that is just head and shoulders above everyone else. The 1991 Washington Redskins were like that - they were three points from finishing the season 19-0, and dominated nearly every statistical category imaginable for the entire season.

This years' Cheatriots are that team. But the difference, as everyone can see, is the Cheatriot's coach is a douchebag the likes of which have rarely, if ever, been seen. Does anybody think they haven't been cheating for years, and in various ways? Of course not. We all know they have. It's not as if once decided to cheat, they said to themselves "Let's just keep the cheating only to this one thing, okay?"

And when they were up 38-0 and having their way with the Redskins, they continued to call deep passes, and went for it on fourth down en route to going up 45-0. Conclusion: Bill Belichick wouldn't know class if it hit him in the middle of his tattered hoodie. I sincerely hope that someone comes along and knocks their dishonest, arrogant band of assholes off their little hill. I think I speak for nearly every football fan in the country when I say "Go Colts!"

On to New York. After a multi-year hiatus, I have visited Manhattan several times over the past few years, including this most recent weekend. Having lived there for a year in my early twenties, I felt forever afterwards that I knew what New York was all about.

The most vivid memory of my prior residence was a typical New York moment. Working for a local sports magazine, I occasionally had to run an errand or two, such as to dropping off proofs or picking up photos (this was in the days before the Internets, kids). On one day, I couldn't find my destination, and thus grabbed the nearest payphone (this was in the days before cell phones, kids) and called the office.

As I was talking to my boss, some angry delivery guy in a van was stuck in traffic just a few feet away. Although the one-way street was simply clogged with traffic and there was absolutely nothing he could do to make it move, he decided to lay on his abnormally loud horn for a good, full, ten-second blast of frustration. Through the phone's amplified earpiece, it sounded like the Staten Island Ferry sounding off before departure. My boss was not pleased, especially since I was on speakerphone and the whole office could hear me (a fact to which I was unaware).

But anyway, I'd had enough.

"HEY ASSHOLE! DO YOU FUCKIN' MIND! I'M TRYING TO USE THE PHONE HERE!"

The response:
"FUUUUUUCK YOU!" SUCK MY....."

Okay, you get the picture. So did all my co-workers, at full volume.

That little moment of New York bliss stuck out even more then the time some crackhead pulled a knife on me on my way home from work on evening (I avoided harm by running into the middle of the street. Even crackheads have enough sense not to play in New York traffic.) It was just so quintessentially Manhattan.

Today's Manhattan is a different place entirely. Compared to the early nineties when I was there, the new New York City is downright warm and fuzzy. Kinder and gentler. Shinier and happier, even.

Why? How? Two things - both related, at least somewhat, to Rudi Giuliani.

First, Giuliani employed the following, brilliant crime fighting strategy: (a) Study crime statistics to (b) discover where the crime is happening and then (c) put lots of police on patrol in those areas. Throw in some neighborhood revitalization, and viola; you've got a safer, more savory New York.

Second, by all accounts, Giuliani handled 9/11 with aplomb and grit. At a time when such a tragedy could rip a town apart, Giuliani healed the city with his particular steadfast style of "Let's go get it done by doing things that make sense." Marion Barry, are you paying attention? That's what a real mayor looks like. Not a president, perhaps, but definitely a mayor.

As a result, New York has been rated the "safest major city" (more than 1 million people) three times since 2002.

I think 9/11 in general had a lot to do with the coalescence of a once fractured, angry community. Going through a horrendous calamity and coming out on the other side intact has a way of bringing people together, like survivors of a shipwreck. Replacing hardcore porn theaters in Times Square with actual theaters didn't hurt, either.

While I was there this past weekend, I experienced the following random acts of kindness:

• A thirty-something man offered his seat on the Subway to a luggage laden couple.
• An iPod-wearing youth took his earphones off for a minute to explain the complexities of the express D trains to an obviously befuddled tourist - without being asked.
• A bus driver saw three ladies standing at the wrong bus stop and directed them to the bus they needed to catch.
• Every cashier with whom I interacted said "Thank you, have a nice day" to me.
• No one yelled at anyone. Not once that I saw.

And that's just in one weekend. Gotta love New York.

Evan Redmon is a manager of a public golf course in Washington, D.C. and writes a few things about stuff sometimes. Contact him at evanredmon@yahoo.com if you really want.