I dislike flying. Shoving 50 people into a tin can, then filling the can up with an explosive liquid and lighting the fuse is just WRONG.

Once I got into San Fran’s airport. I walked around like a chicken with, well you know. Finally, I found where I could check my bags, and found my way to the train system. After a 40 minute train ride. I found my way into the wharf. I walked and walked and walked, well it seemed like it anyway. I went from where the 49ers play all the way to pier 39, not quite to Fisherman’s wharf; I was ready to be done and to my hotel. I stopped to have a really good lobster sandwich. Then on to the hotel, its nice not great, but it has a desk and a recliner; everything that I need for a home at training. At check-in we had a Training camp welcome social. One of the instructor drove me NUTS, and wouldn’t you know it he was mine. However, he turned out to be a great instructor and almost a carbon copy of Marcus a good friend of mine from college.