Senor Weaselo is a freelance musician living in New York City. As you would expect, this means he has some stories and adventures. This new column will be a collection of those stories, and other also ramblings that go on in his mind, because he tangents with the best of them, just ask his students.

But first we open with a story from way back. Enjoy…

When I was 12 or so Padre Weaselo heard from a youth orchestra friend’s parents that the Knicks ran a talent contest that they would have at halftime of a few games a year. Sure, you had to audition, but if you were selected you’d get to go to a game and there would be money involved. Then, after the three kids performed it would go to an audience vote and the crowd pick would win additional money. I had started working on Wieniawski’s Scherzo-Tarentelle (played here by definitely not me) and the first section, at the speed I played it, was almost exactly 90 seconds. And that just so happened to be the amount of time they asked for! So I played the first two pages of Scherzo-Tarentelle, the people auditioning loved it, and said they’d be calling. And they did so quickly, asking if I was available to play a game in November, near the beginning of the season, giving the Weaselo family four tickets (which was perfect since there are four of us) and inviting us to the Garden, where I would play those 90 seconds in front of 18,000 paid attendance. I got to walk onto the Madison Square Garden floor, on center court, and play violin, even if just for myself for soundcheck. And I sat and watched the shootaround before the gates open. No, I did not ask Stephon Marbury if I could take some shots, or ask Allen Iverson if we were talkin’ ’bout a game or if we were talkin’ ’bout… practice (they were playing the Sixers). And we got to hang in the VIP room where performers stay before playing the arena (and I should have signed my name on the wall), where there was food and drinks and really anything we’d need.

The families went down to the floor seats and Celebrity Row to watch us play, where they were given instructions to please not bother the celebrities or they’d have to remove them from that area. Cue one of the other performers’ sister going “Oh my god Fat Joe!” Which we got a chuckle out of because it was naturally perfect timing. But that was the only peep as the families went to seats and the kids went to their spots.

First off, yes I played well. The crowd loved it, I looked good since I decided to go with the suit and tie instead of Knicks attire, and yes, I won the crowd vote. We have video of all of it, and with Spike digging it (but he never called us for one of his Spike Lee Joints, call me Spike, I still play violin). Well, we would have but Padre Weaselo left the lens cap of the camcorder on. You remember camcorders, right? We do have a video of the second time I played, because they called me back to do a Liberty game, but 1) it’s a Liberty game so it doesn’t have the same juice, and B) I didn’t win the crowd vote so sorry about that. (Tangent story there though, the girl who won later went on to compete in the first season of a popular variety competition show… and won it; and the other girl was in School of Rock—no, not the bassist; and no, not Miranda Cosgrove.) That video is the first recorded instance of my trademark pending Bow Flick, so that’s kinda cool. Oh, also each community in Queens has a local paper and I got a half-page story in that, and the guy butchered Padre Weaselo’s name because he’s not a Sr. and I’m not a Jr..

Anyway, to the fun part of the story. So I’m playing, and Hermana Weaselo, who at this point is 9 years old or so, ends up talking to a young man in the row in front of her, and obviously it’s not verbatim, but as best as I can remember it went something like this:

Hermana Weaselo: Yay, go [Senor]!
Young Man: Oh, is that your brother?
HW: Yeah!
YM: How do you two get along?
HW: Okay, but you know, we fight sometimes.
YM: I know what you mean, I have older brothers too.

And that was it, and at the time the parentals thought nothing of it, other than it being the fearless Hermana Weaselo striking up conversations with people. (Even now, she’s pretty fearless and I love her for it.)

Until we went up to the seats (well, Padre Weaselo stayed in the VIP room) because why not, it’s a professional sporting event, worth a check, and the Jumbotron showed some of the people in Celebrity Row, and started off playing the Monday Night Football theme and showed the young man’s face, and Hermana Weaselo recognized him as the person she struck a conversation with while I was playing. And that young man was the Giants’ first round rookie quarterback, Eli Manning. Which, when we all realized it, we all thought it was awesome. Even to this day we joke about that chance conversation with “her BFF Eli.”

Anyway, I guess the whole point of this is to pay tribute to Eli Manning and congratulate him on a successful career—two Super Bowls, two Super Bowl MVPs, franchise records, perpetual bragging rights over his older brother that he didn’t lose to Tom Brady in the playoffs—and to wish him the best. Because it’s my sister’s BFF Eli.

Senor in the City will update… whenever I feel like writing one. Just like the backlogs of House of Pain that I swear I’m gonna get to about tWBS’s ghost peppers.