Good morning, Las Vegas

Good morning, Insiders, and good morning, Las Vegas.

The light of a Vegas morning can be harsh, as anyone who’s taken an 8:45 a.m. taxi to McCarran on a Sunday in July can tell you. But this is winter, and the solsitial light splashed a gold filter across a panoramic, northeast-facing view that captured both the Eiffel Tower and perhaps a little slice of Nellis Air Force Base. While interning for the Las Vegas 51s in 2004 – Edwin Jackson, Shane Victorino, Jayson Werth, Cody Ross and Chin-Feng Chen were among our Dodger farmhands that season – we’d have a great view from the Cashman Field press box of tiny, in-the-distance aircraft in flight, one of the nice perks and welcome distractions when working some 70 home games or so.

The Kings’ plane touched down shortly after midnight at the outset of the season’s longest trip. We deplaned; luggage was unloaded. Nick Nickson (and I asked him for permission to use this) commented that all the bags looked exactly alike. “Why do they only make black bags? Why are there never any red bags?” he asked. A fine question. If anyone would like to patent it, you could make millions off THE SINGING BAG. You’ll never accidentally start rolling Billy Ranford’s suitcase towards the lobby if you purchase THE SINGING BAG. This has the potential to revolutionize air travel and accelerate charter deplaning efficiency, and please send copyright checks to Nick Nickson and LAKI, c/o LA Kings.

No morning skate, Insiders. WUWTK will follow soon. Thanks as always for reading, gang.