I was in New York and had just finished filming a spot with Deion and Denis Leary. It wasn’t as pleasant as it should have been because Deion was surprised that Denis was in ‘his’ spot.
‘What’s he doin’ here?’
Deion was also contentious about the wardrobe stylist’s taste and we finally had to use Deion’s own clothes, really no big deal. Deion, like Bo, was a two-sport star and they were playing the Mets in New York. At the end of the session, the Riz (as I remember) said he had missed a shot we needed, Deion in Central Park.
‘It’s dark. Riz.’
‘Can we shoot tomorrow?’
‘I can shoot tomorrow, but what about Deion? They’re playing tomorrow.’
Somehow, we got Deion to agree to do the shot first thing well before the game. I was clear what the shot was so we wouldn’t waste bickering time. Deion shows, we get the shot easily and I get back to the hotel to check out and get out of the city.
Late that afternoon, on the way to JFK, we pass Shea and I ask the cabdriver (yes, cab, no limo) to check the score on the radio. I was curious, maybe concerned, about Deion’s performance in the game, since we disrupted his regimen.
No matter.
Deion had gone five for five with a couple of stolen bases.
Bo knows.