My usual 7:30am to 11:00pm workday. Doesn't help that it started around 2:45am. That's when all the players and staff idiots got back to the hotel from their nightclub event excursion. For the next 2½ hours it seemed as though they did the rest of their partying in the damn hallways of the hotel. Many loud, drunk, stupid conversations being held, and more doors being slammed than you could count. I called the desk several times about all the racket. Don't know if security came up or not, but it continued until well after 5am. By then, there was no reason to try to go back to sleep, as I had my alarm set for 5:45 anyway. Assholes.
Scott Cameron, the crew guy who skydives, got some bad news yesterday after he finished his jumps for the day. There was a voice mail on his phone about a bunch of his friends back home in Missouri getting killed in a plane crash. Four skydivers, all of whom were friends of his, along with another guy and the plane's pilot, both of whom he also knew. Turns out that it happened at the field where Scott does most of his jumps, and it was the very plane he goes up in all the time. The plane hit a utility pole somehow during takeoff and crashed immediately, killing all aboard. Scott will going home in a few days for the funerals.
Left the arena mid-day to grab lunch with Chris Hendley. Watched about 15 minutes of the game with him, too.
In the bunk at midnight, heading to Miami. Yuck!