I don't know if I ever had more pure fun as a writer than I did the two years I worked in Greeley, Colorado.

I had come to a small local daily from a major metropolitan paper that had folded, and I was given a great deal of freedom to run the sports section by the best boss I ever had. It worked out well; we were a national best-section finalist in our circulation category, and reaction from local readers to what we were doing was wonderful. I wrote four or five columns a week, and I had complete flexibility to go whatever direction I wanted.

I created a rich fantasy life that my readers seemed to enjoy. At that time, Greeley's claim to sports fame was that it served as the Denver Broncos' summer training camp headquarters, and just before camp opened in 1987, I had fun with this column:
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<em>The switchboard operator told me there was a Ms. Arquette on the phone.</em>

<em>Rosanna Arquette.</em>

<em>I could hardly believe it.</em>

<em><a href="http://mikerappaport.net/onevoice/wp-content/uploads/2011/03/epic-songs-toto-rosanna-arquette-rnr-epic-song-demotivational-poster-1221935762.jpg"><img class="alignright size-medium wp-image-955" title="epic-songs-toto-rosanna-arquette-rnr-epic-song-demotivational-poster-1221935762" src="http://mikerappaport.net/onevoice/wp-content/uploads/2011/03/epic-songs-toto-rosanna-arquette-rnr-epic-song-demotivational-poster-1221935762-253x300.jpg" alt="" width="253" height="300" /></a>It was certainly a dream come true, although the fantasy about the nurse's uniform and the butterscotch sundaes would probably have to wait.</em>

<em>She came right to the point of the call. I've always admired women who do that.</em>

<em>"When do the Broncos come to Greeley?" she asked me.</em>

<em>"Hey, c'mon Miss 'Desperately Seeking Susan,' everybody who's anybody knows that," I responded. Unrequited love can be cruel.</em>

<em>"I know it's silly, but I've been out of touch," she said. "I was in South America making a movie and I've been out of the country since May."</em>

<em>"Well, all right. I'll forgive you this time. The rookies -- the few who are signed -- will be here Monday ..."</em>

<em>"That's the day after tomorrow!" she shrieked as I yanked the phone away from my ear in an effort to save my hearing. "How can I get to Greeley by then?"</em>

<em>I shrugged. "Hey, no problem. Catch a flight out of LAX Sunday afternoon and rent a car in Denver. You can be here by midnight."</em>

<em>"You don't understand," she said. "It's not that easy. There's about eight of us who want to be here for the first week of practice. Demi Moore, Ally Sheedy, Elisabeth Shue, Madonna ..."</em>

<em>"I see what you mean," I said. "They're all over the country. It'll be tough to get everybody together that fast."</em>

<em>"It'll be impossible," she moaned.</em>

<em>"Why is it so important for everyone to be here the first day?" I asked. "The Broncos won't be getting anything much done with their rookies until the top draft choices sign."</em>

<em>"Have you ever heard of Simon St. Jacques?" she asked.</em>

<em>"No, but have you ever heard of Mike Fisher?"</em>

<em>"Be serious," she said. "Simon is the one who decides every year where the really important people will be spending their summers. Last year we all went to the Costa del Sol. And this year he announced just last month that the international jet set will be summering at the Broncos' training camp."</em>

<em>"In Greeley?"</em>

<em>Now it was her turn to be cruel. "You know of any other Broncos who went to the Super Bowl last year?"</em>

<em>"No," I said in a small voice.</em>

<em>"And you call yourself a sports columnist," she said. "The reason we've got to get there first is so that we can get the best hotel rooms. Is there a Hyatt Regency in Greeley?"</em>

<em>"Not the last time I looked."</em>

<em>"How about a Hilton or a Radisson?"</em>

<em>"No, I don't think so. There are a lot of nice smaller hotels and motels, though. And Taco Bell just started selling steak fajitas."</em>

<em>"This is more serious than I thought. I'll probably end up sharing a room at some Holiday Inn with Fergie and Di."</em>

<em>I offered to put her up at my place, but she declined.</em>

<em>"We don't know each other that well," she said.</em>

<em>"Yet," I said.</em>

<em>"Ever," she said.</em>

<em>I played my ace. "Did you know how far away from the practice field they keep the spectators?"</em>

<em>She was immediately wary. "No, how far?"</em>

<em>"Well, it isn't quite Fort Collins, but I hope you've got a good set of binoculars. A real good set. A telescope."</em>

<em>"Damn," she said. "I was really hoping to be able to see John Elway from up close."</em>

<em>It was time to make my move. "Uh, sweetheart. I could probably get you a sideline pass."</em>

<em>"How big did you say your apartment was?"</em>

<em>I blessed the Broncos, from Pat Bowlen to Dan Reeves to Jim Saccomano. I promised I would never send a Christmas card to Al Davis again.</em>

<em>"There's enough room for you and two of your friends," I said. "Fergie and Di will have to stay at the Greeley Inn, though. I can't take care of the whole world."</em>

<em>She had one more question. "Will I have to go incognito while I'm there? It's such a drag to always get mobbed on the street. When I'm in New York, I can't go out unless I wear a scarf around my hair and a big pair of sunglasses."</em>

<em>I couldn't believe she was so naive.</em>

<em>"Hey, Rose, babe. We're not talking City of the Angels or the Apple here. This is Greeley. You know, the City on the Move, the Summer Home of the Denver Broncos. If you're not six feet tall and wearing an orange uniform, nobody's going to pay any attention to you. Now who's being silly?"</em>

<em>"You're right," she admitted. "How could a movie actress possibly compete with Rulon Jones or Orson Mobley?"</em>

<em>"Hey, as long as we've got that straight."</em>

<em>"God, you're so lucky."</em>

<em>"Why is that?" I knew the answer, but I wanted to hear her say it.</em>

<em>Her voice was breathy. "The rest of us are just visitors
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