Commissioner's Son

I have never dated a guy for who he is or what connections he has. I must admit, however, that there came a time where I almost fell off my seat when I found out exactly who Eric was, my date for a Tuesday, last June.

A few weeks prior, my friend Alicia was having a party (occasion forgotten) which I of course attended. There were fantastic dark chocolate covered pretzels, my friend Shira came with me to the party, and at around 1 in the morning, this cute guy walked in. Eric and I chatted for a little while. But it was getting late and I was getting tired. Eric asked for my card, I gave it to him, and home I went.

Eric wrote me an email a few weeks later, and we got the basics out of the way: age, address, college... Eric then told me what he did for a living (at the time he was moving some baseball team to Mexico) and told me to Google him. Of course I was going to Google him anyway, but now I had more information to help narrow my search.

Eric ___, baseball, Mexico-- hit enter.

It turned out that Eric was the son of the NBA Commissioner. Even though basketball is my least favorite professional sport, I was impressed. Knicks tickets. Lakers tickets. Hey, probably tickets to anything under the sun. But I was going out with Eric based on the impression from meeting him, nothing else (attempt at honesty here.) But all my guy friends were hoping for a marriage out of this one.

Date, blah, blah, blah. We had a great time. He was quite interesting, funny and cute. And he liked me. So much, in fact, that he wanted to see me the next night. That never happened as I had plans, and then he went out of town for a little while, and we all know how those things go. And then he wrote me a pervy email and that was the end.

And I never even made it to a Knicks game.