Vegas after 40
Four decades of Super Bowl memories
Honorable Mention
“Crazy World Ain’t it with Artist”
Photo by Mark Towle
(John Van Hamersfeld, Jan. 31, 2020 in El Segundo)
Honorable mention
Easy Reader 2021 Anniversary Writing Contest
by Pete Whalon
In early January 1981, Dan, Mark, and I were watching football at my apartment. The NFL season was ending, and the playoffs would begin the following week. After a few beers, Dan came up with what would turn out to be a yearly tradition that continues to this day.
“Hey guys, we should go to Vegas for Super Bowl weekend. It’s a big party there and the perfect atmosphere for watching the game.” The more we drank the more enthusiastic we became about spending Super Bowl weekend in Sin City. By the end of the day, we had booked a room at the Orbit Inn, a “dive” casino in Downtown Vegas, for our First Annual “Vegas Blowout.”
After our first year we began recruiting friends to join us. In the late eighties we had our biggest turnout — 25 proud members of the “Quest.”
Early February 2020 marked the 40th consecutive year of this hallowed trek. Dan attended 38 consecutive Vegas trips before passing away from cancer. Mark has missed just one trip since. I have been fortunate enough to attend all 40 years. (We missed 2021 but decided to not count it due to the dreaded COVID nightmare.)
As the years flew past, we added many traditions to our Quest. As you might expect from male friends on a Vegas adventure, many of them were puerile. On our fifth year, 1985, we held our first Saturday night ceremony. The three founders were presented with five-year Vegas Quest T-shirts with our names embroidered on them. These gifts were followed by numerous inappropriate gag gifts, and inebriated, verbal “tributes.”
The Saturday Night Cocktail Party became one of the highlights of our three-day rampage. Every time someone hit a five-year anniversary, they were celebrated with a T-shirt and a steady flow of sarcastic comments. In 2020, my 40th year, I received the most coveted award of all. A perpetual, 40oz. bottle of Mickey’s fine malt liquor, which will be handed off to Mark on Saturday night, during Quest, 2022!
We estimate that over the years, the number of guys who have attended at least one blowout hovers around 80. Most of the one-hit-wonders couldn’t get the “kitchen pass” from their “significant other” to keep the dream alive. Before each cocktail party begins, we raise a glass, or a bottle of beer to those unfortunate souls who miss the trip. Then, one at a time, we declare our “years of service,” with a witty response, like you might see at a military reunion. We never know how many attendees will show. Often, one or two would fly in just for the Super Bowl, then fly home after the game.
What happens in Vegas (sometimes) stays in Vegas. As you might imagine, when a large group of rowdy males of varying ages show up in Vegas for Super Bowl weekend, there just might be some shenanigans and tomfoolery.
For many of us attending the yearly trip, it is the only time we have seen each other since the last Quest, so reminiscing is a big part of the gathering. Tales of past Vegas trips are retold. Many have become Super Bowl weekend folklore.
One tradition that only lasted a year took place in the late eighties. One of the guys brought a nerf football to the Saturday Night Cocktail Party. It started as a competition for who could make the best catch of the football while diving onto the bed. About halfway through, a lamp was broken when someone bounced off the bed onto the nightstand. Then, someone suggested a game of hall tackle football. We picked two teams of three guys each and began the first and last match of hall football. A few minutes into the game I heard glass breaking. Tom, who had the ball, was pushed by Eric into the fire hose fixture. Eric said, “Hey guys, I’m bleeding.” Ironically, the words on the glass were: IN CASE OF EMERGENCY BREAK GLASS. Eric and one of his friends took a taxi to the emergency room. None of us were in condition to drive. It turned out to be a mild cut, requiring five stitches. Since Eric had filled the doctor’s prescription for painkillers, he was feeling no pain. Oddly enough, the nerf football made several more appearances over the years but was only used for bed-diving catches.
Over the past 40 years, our group has dwindled, but we still have 10 to 15 loyalists. One of our guys who missed about eight years in a row suddenly returned two years ago. This year I will proudly hand over the Mickey’s 40oz. bottle to Mark, marking (no pun intended) his 40th Vegas Blowout.
Childish you say? Not to me. I often think about how special this trip is and how much many of us look forward to this gathering. The lifelong friends I have made are irreplaceable. So many memories. I never tire of rehashing old tales, good and bad, with this band of brothers. As the trip approaches each year I anticipate it as much as I did that magical first year, back, in 1981. That Sunday afternoon in our shabby room, watching the Oakland Raiders shellac the Philadelphia Eagles 27-10 in the Super Bowl. And waking up the next morning with the world famous “Vegas Flu.” ER