These internets and satellite TV are great things indeed. A man can do worse than spending an afternoon sitting in an Irish pub along San Antonio’ Riverwalk District drinking Guinness, smoking cigars, e-mailing clients, blogging, chatting up a lovely Irish bartender and watching West Brom/Burnley live.
And the closest I’ve gotten to the Spurs and the loathsome NBA during my three days here was watching the Tottenham Hotspurs/Arsenal match in this same pub on Saturday.
I have to give San Antonio two thumbs up (at least the city center). The Riverwalk is unlike anything I’ve ever seen in the States. Google it for a sense of what it’s like. Of course my opinion could be clouded by the high I am still on from watching Albert go deep in extra innings for Sunday’s win over the Cubs.
Alas, all good things must come to an end. My lovely bride just called. Her conference meetings are breaking up and in 90 minutes I'm supposed to be ready to go out to dinner with a group of her colleagues (did I mention she is in town for a conference in her professional field of substance abuse treatment?). All appropriate instructions have been given to shut me off of the black stuff in the next hour but no promises were forthcoming from my fair bartender. Looks like I'm reliant on my own willpower and good judgment. I just checked and Vegas won't even give odds on a happy ending to this story......
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