Travis Hansen, Torrey Ellis and Billy Joel
MADRID — Too bad for the Jazz they weren’t here longer, because the more time one spends in Madrid, the more magical an already extraordinary place becomes.
The team flew (blew?) out of town after Thursday’s blowout exhibition victory over Spanish power Real Madrid, and got here so early in the morning Wednesday that – combined with a practice and clinic that afternoon – there wasn’t much time to soak in the city.
Their loss, even with a win.
Enjoyed lunch today (at 4:30, Spanish style) at a place called De Maria, recommended by former Mountain View, Utah Valley State, BYU and Atlanta Hawks player Travis Hansen, who now toils for Real Madrid.
From the butter for the bread to the chorizo to the potato fritters to the steak called lomo to the lemon sorbet and mango sorbet chaser, it was, in a world, spectacular. Perhaps the greatest assist in Hansen’s career.
And now, for some flavor from the game and the Jazz’s short stop in Madrid:
The on-court announcer named Pedro changed to a Deron Williams, which says all you need to know about the game was going at halftime. . . There was more of a police presence at Palacio de Deportes than at any 10 NBA arenas combined . . . Had to laugh when one Spanish fan called Williams “Torrey Ellis,” which is the alias Williams once used after a bar fight in Park City, then with barely a breath shouted, “Hey, Ashton Kutcher,” to Kyle Korver . . . Real Madrid fans loved Bear, but, really, who in the world wouldn’t?
Bear got his picture in the one of the local papers, Marca, for sliding through the basket during a clinic the Jazz put on for a group of Special Olympians . . . The Jazz’s family bus – full of many player and staff wives, and even team president Randy Rigby – broke down before leaving the team hotel here, so everyone arrived just as the game was getting underway.
Speaking of the team’s hotel in Madrid, Eurostars Tower is pretty awesome in its own right, from hardwood floors in the rooms to the best bathroom a guest can ask for and quite comfy beds to boot; sure do wish Marriott would take notice, especially when it comes to super-quick attention to personal service (the Spanish only-speaking tech guy arrived at the door mere moments after being called, Ethernet cord in hand, and had the Internet up and running with ease even for the slowest and dumbest of non-Twittering, reluctant text-messaging Internet users).
And, finally, the friendly taxi drivers here mostly like to listen to Spanish sports talk and American music on the radio. There’s nothing like listening to a little REM and Billy Joel driving through Madrid.