DENVER — Ever wonder why sports writers complain so much?

Below, you’ll read first hand my weekend covering the San DiegoState/Air Force and Denver/San Diego footballgames, with The Daily Aztec assistant sports editor Steve Mullins andassistant photo editor Greg Lithgoe.

Enjoy. Because I didn’t.

Friday, Nov. 17, 3 a.m. : Time to wake up. Are you kidding me? Istill have packing to do for my 6:15 a.m. flight to Denver. This isgoing to be a rough trip.

Friday, 3:15 p.m. : We’re lost. I jump out of our rental car inColorado Springs and go outside to make a phone call. Did I mention Ididn’t bring any long underwear? It’s freezing. It turns out thedirections we received were useless because a street was unaccountedfor.

Friday, 10:45 p.m. : After a nice meal, we enjoy several beveragesand a game of poker. I was taken to the cleaners. During thisdebacle, the room’s air conditioning kept coming on at 10-minuteintervals. After four times, I had enough. I lunge for the phone –about to call the front desk and offer a few choice words — butwisely, Mullins convinces me not to. It’s 5 degrees outside. I don’twant to sleep in the car.

Saturday, Nov. 18, 11:13 a.m. : We arrive at Falcon Stadium. Thereis snow everywhere. The forests and mountains nearby lend to amajestic setting. The elevation at the Air Force Academy is 7,258feet. It’s probably close to 8,000 feet at press box level.

There was no elevator.

Saturday, 1:32 p.m. : No, that’s not blue war paint on me. It’sthe pen that exploded all over my face. Let’s just say I looked likeGroucho Marx with a shiner.

Saturday, 2:18 p.m. : Quarterback Lon Sheriff finds a wide-openBrian Gelt for a go-ahead touchdown. Leading 14-10, I’m thinking theAztecs can pull this one out.

Saturday, 4:26 p.m. : Air Force’s Scott Becker dives into the endzone, giving the Falcons a 45-24 lead.

Saturday, 4:58 p.m. : As the media members wait outside the lockerroom, defensive coordinator Ken Delgado sullenly walks out. Needlessto say, after watching his unit give up 540 yards to Air Force,Delgado wasn’t a happy camper.

For the sidebar article I was writing, I needed to interview him,but that wasn’t the safest thing to do because I’m giving up fourinches and approximately 200 pounds to this massive coach. I askedhim if he could answer a few questions and he stopped, turned around– obvious emotion on his face — and asked for a minute to composehimself.

He proceeded to answer every question in the classy way we’re allaccustomed to.

Sunday, Nov. 19, 10:30 a.m. : Up since 3 a.m. working on the gamearticles, we finish and attempt to e-mail the stories.

Problem.

For some reason, the laptop computer doesn’t want to paste theword document we copied onto the e-mail. Also, the computers at TheAztec don’t accept attachments.

Sunday, 12:47 p.m. : After much ordeal, our stories and picturesare in. Next stop: Mile High Stadium. The Chargers and the Broncosface off in 73 minutes.

Sunday, 1:51 p.m. : We park in the B-36 portion of the parkinglot. It might as well have been Egypt. Bundled up and carrying whatwould become a heavy laptop computer, we began our trek.

Sunday, 2 p.m. : We’re not even close. People actually pay $10 topark a light year away from the stadium. Unbelievable. It’s at leastanother nine minutes until we get there.

Sunday, 2:17 p.m. : Finally we get to the press box. At QualcommStadium there is the “dreaded third row,” where the table is aboutseven inches wide and even a skinny guy like myself has problemsgetting to his seat.

The same is true at Mile High, where there are pillarsstrategically placed along that row, and you lose sight of half thefield. Naturally, we were seated there.

Sunday, 3:21 p.m. : Mullins wisely suggests we hit the press boxspread before the other fish hacks demolish it. I started out withtwo knockwursts as we watched the last two minutes of the first halfon the monitor.

Sunday, 3:27 p.m. : Taking into account we were covering aprofessional sport, we expected a professional atmosphere in the box.No such luck. What a bunch of buffoons. As we watched the game on themonitor, various “working press” were vocally rooting for the Broncos– a no-no in press boxes — and had no shame in doing so. Afterpolishing off both knockwursts, I head for No. 3.

Sunday, 3:31 p.m. : Knockwurst No. 4.

Sunday, 3:48 p.m. : The game resumes. My stomach hurts. I’m goingto regret that last knockwurst.

Sunday, 4:55 p.m. : Because of our flight time, and theuncertainty of how long it would take to get to the airport, we areforced to leave with seven minutes remaining. The Chargers appear tohave win No. 1 in hand, leading 37-24.

Sunday, 5:12 p.m. : We hadn’t even exited the grounds yet andDenver scored. It’s 37-31.

Sunday, 5:24 p.m. : We’re having problems finding the car, butthere are no problems discerning the noise from Mile High Stadium.The Broncos scored again, giving them a 38-37 lead.

Sunday, 5:25 p.m. : Realization No. 1: The Chargers won’t win agame this year.

Sunday, 5:26 p.m. : Realization No. 2: I really shouldn’t have hadthat fourth knockwurst.

Sunday, 6:14 p.m. : We arrive at the airport and are told theflight has been delayed for an hour.

Sunday, 8:18 p.m.-11:46 p.m. : This time period is a bit cloudy,but there is something I remember quite clearly.

I should not have had that last knockwurst.

David is a senior and sports editor of The Daily Aztec. He can bereached at dcordero2@collegeclub.com.