I had dinner with Georgia Frontiere, where the Rams' owner chose to tell me about each of her seven husbands — four too many for me to make a newspaper deadline and still explain to the people of Los Angeles how she had just won approval to move her team to St. Louis.
I hopped into a waiting limo in Oakland, expecting to find Al Davis, but got a pair of Raiderettes instead. So I never did get around to meeting with Davis to discuss the possibility of the Raiders returning to L.A.
Former super-agent Michael Ovitz sent a martini to my hotel room and had Tom Cruise and Jerry West call to talk football and the prospect of bringing the NFL back to town. Ovitz also asked me not to park my Ford Escort in front of his Rockingham home so no one might think he was entertaining a poor person.