Never was a fan of Vesceys', and i am not suprised in the least that he did this. Stay classy Petey...And then, Vecsey took the stage.
He seemed to have no notes. No thoughts. No … nothing. He began not by expressing his appreciation, but by rattling off all the shunned players he believed belonged in the Hall. From there, he just … babbled. About this. About that. He seemed to be drunk, but I don’t think he was. The man was just, well, lost. He used language one doesn’t use in a Hall speech. He called out people’s names (”Calvin Murphy! Tiny Archibald!”), and you could literally see the men squirming in their seats. I was sitting about 10 feet from David Stern, who—throughout the ceaseless banter—dismissively shook his head while checking his Blackberry. Jordan, the star of the weekend, walked out. Just left, and never returned.
The best part came, oh, 30 minutes in, when Vecsey took a breather between points. As if on cue, the entire room started to applaud—a very clear, very audible get-the-f^%$-off-the-stage command. Suddenly, music piped in from above—yet another get-the-f^%$-off-the-stage command. Oddly, Vecsey really paid it no mind. It was as if he had a booger dangling from his nose, and everyone in the room was acutely aware of its existence—save for Peter Vecsey. He kept talking until, I believe, his mic was turned off (either that, or he got the clue).