I has a few hours of my birthday on a plane. We crossed the date line and it magically vanished into the next day. I think it still counts though.
For the record, O-Dog doesn't have a say in who gets "his" number. If he played well enough to have it hung in the rafters, then he can bitch. Otherwise, it's a number in the pool that was waiting on the next player who wants it.
Anytime I think about when Jeff O'Neill picked a fight with Sheldon Souray in Greensboro. O took a swing that Souray ducked. Then Souray hit O'Neill so hard that I'm pretty sure the back of Jeff's helmet hit him between the shoulder blades. O'Neill's head cracked back like a freakin' PEZ dispenser. He didn't return that night and missed a few more consecutive games IIRC. He didn't think about challenging Souray ever again either.
I have a brother who's fat. He's also a bully, an @$$hole, and he tries to be difficult to anyone he thinks he out-ranks. He had a desk job where he hassled people for 30+ years & he got off on it. He's THAT guy. He was in incredible shape in high school and the first year of college. Then he majored in the buffet line at the cafeteria. He joined the service afterward and actually had one of the cooks repermanded for not having "his" salad dressing prepared in time for chow one day. Think about that, some enlisted cook had a permanent mark against him in his record because some jack@$$ didn't get what he wanted. He is a glutton and a heart attack waiting to happen. He lives in Spokane & that's just about far enough away. Not shaming, just speaking the truth. He's an inch shorter than me is almost double my weight. (I'm 5'9" & 170 lbs.).
Jim