- - -
. . . and my workday had taken me northish, so I decided that I had given my employer enough of my remaining time on this earth for the day, so I stopped in and checked out the Hardline remote. I found a spot where I could observe the room, and I just hung out for a while and purchased some cocktails from a young woman who appeared to be an experienced service technician.
A few unremarkable observations.
The name of the place is "Scruffy Duffies." Not a possessive, but a plural. Not Scruffy Duffy's; not a place that belongs to Mr. or Ms. Duffy; rather, a place that is of, or resembles, or contains, more than one Scruffy Duffy. If they think they are avoiding trademark issues with Scruffy Duffy's saloons in NYC and elsewhere, they are in error.
Not a big crowd, at least up to close to 6:30 or so. There was one guy sitting directly in front of the Hardline setup who was listening to the show, and I noticed one other table of guys who seem to be paying attention. There was a guy reading a tablet and writing in a notebook. I haven't been to a lot of remotes, but the ones I have dropped in on were a noisier than this one. The good news is that I could hear the show.
Nobody approached them during the couple hours that I was there. They probably prefer it that way, as some remote visitors seem unable to discern when our lads are on the air. Corby appeared to be working away on his Mac during breaks, probably doing some in-show show prep, but while Corby made his magic Mike stood quietly and swayed a little.
They were broadcasting almost in the dark. The bar is dark to begin with, but they were away from the windows and the "stage" was deep in the shadows.
I am always reminded that it must be quite a talent to be able to hold a conversation in front of a bunch of strangers and in the middle of a bunch of noise. As I said, yesterday's remote was not overcrowded, but they are just as smooth when the place is roaring.
Corby looks at Mike most of the time when he's talking. Mike rarely looks at Corby unless he is particularly exercised, when he will turn to him and gesture. Most of the time, when Mike is holding forth, he just kind of stares into the middle distance even when he and Corby are conducting a lively conversation. It's odd to watch Corby speaking very earnestly and directly to Mike and looking at him, while Mike is more or less gazing at some indeterminate point among the patrons.
I didn't see any Ticket Chicks or promo guys.
I didn't know who the engineer was.
Mike and Corby interact very little during breaks. As I say, it was dark, so perhaps they were mumbling to one another or to Danny through the headsets. It's a little trippy to hear the disembodied voice of Danny come drifting through the speakers when he jumps in.
I had heard one or another sports pundit or play-by-play guy make many of the same points that Corby and Mike were making about the sole topic, the Cowboy game -- all of the same points, in fact. And yet, I was not bored listening to them and I was struck again by the fact that Ticket hosts distinguish themselves in being able to make these repeated points listenable and even entertaining.
As I said, no great insights here, but a nice way to unwind, look at chicks, drink, and reflect on how it's Great to Listen to The Ticket.