// July 15th, 2010 // 12 Comments » // Uncategorized
FWG has a few friends in the NFL and media, high ranking officials with classified access. One such official was at the ESPY’s and the Playboy Mansion. Here is what she has to offer.
I’ve been to the ESPY’s twice. I hope to never go back.
Since I’m pretty much allergic to LA (everyone looks and acts like a DB), I don’t usually come in until Monday. Just in time for the big event…the Playboy party.
Held at Hef’s joint, it’s pretty much exactly how you picture it- lots of drunk athletes, scantily-clad girls with fake boobs looking for their meal ticket, and other celebrities of varying calibers (I spent a lot of time thinking “Wow…congrats on milking every second of those 15 minutes!”) trying to get some.
I’ve seen passed out NFL players carried out to their waiting limos, actors puking into bushes, and I got lost (I swear) and stumbled into the grotto to see a certain TV actor getting it on with 2 girls. Believe it or not, he did take 5 seconds from his…endeavors to tell me to leave.
The next day is for recovery. And going to the gifting suites. Because famous people looooove their free stuff.
There’s one main ESPY hotel where most of the talent (athletes, actors, singers, etc.) stay. One floor of the hotel is shut down to the common folk and each room is occupied by a different company to give their products out to the celebs.
Oh, and you’re escorted by a hot girl in tight clothing who introduces you to the companies like “Hey, this is so and so, and he is a HUGE fan of Pony running shoes!” And then they take your pic with the product to use online or whatever (“Look! The guy from American Pie uses drinks Badass Coffee!) and then you put your free stuff in a duffel bag and move to the next room. Repeat until said bag is full of tequila, headphones, etc.
Even though everyone on “the list” gets these trinkets, there’s a total hierarchy of how nice of a present you get. In the Russell Simmons jewelry room last year, most people got a stainless steel bracelet or necklace. Not really my style, but you end up giving most of our free stuff away to friends anyway so I wasn’t gonna say no!
But not the famous boxer who was in the room at the same time as me. He spotted the “Hello Kitty” diamond necklace on display from the Kimora Lee Simmons line and decided he wanted to give it to some lucky lady in his life. I wanted to ask if it was for one of the baby mama’s of his ELEVEN children, but decided against it. In any case, the Simmons people opened the case, put the bling in a box, and off he went.
Finally, it’s red carpet time.
You spend Wednesday getting dolled up, then make your way over to the sight of the show at around 5 or 6 PM. You get off the shuttle and are directed towards a tent with metal detectors. That’s where they separate VIP’s going to the event from the Super VIP’s who do the red carpet/paparazzi/fan deal. It’s just like you see for the Emmy’s or Oscars, except the men at the ESPY’s wear a lot more bling and you see ginormous football players having to mop the sweat off their heads with towels stolen from the hotel. You know, it’s classy.
You wind your way down the carpet, stopping for photo opps and interviews. At the end, they break you down the group again-famous people and special famous people.
The former go into the theatre and wait for the ceremony. The latter are led into a private room behind the stage where they schmooze with each other and drink free booze. Then the show’s host comes in for a quick meet and greet, you finish your drinks, go find your seat, and hope it’s on an aisle so you can leave before it’s over and get to the after-parties.
Let’s face it, the only people who care about the actual awards are the people who win them.
Tonight’s show is hosted by Seth Myers from SNL, which means it will probably be funny. Unlike last year’s host who was so bad, they taped us clapping, cheering, laughing, etc. for post-production. You know, the sound of crickets after a “joke” don’t really translate well on TV.
So there you have it, a quick inside peek at the ESPY’s.