One of my favorite things about rock and roll celebrities is getting to know additional things about them other than the music.

In the late 1980’s and early ‘90’s we had the honor of opening for Mitch Ryder and the Detroit Wheels about 30 times.

They would drive to Chicago in their Detroit-made Lincoln Continentals, dressed in leather and denim. They would hide their bloodshot eyes behind some of the coolest array of shades I have ever seen. (Mitch would be proud that I mentioned every swollen blood vessel because he feels that he has earned them all.)

Mitch and I became close after about three shows. We would hang out after shows and get into the history of the Motown scene, telling me some of the wildest stories.

Mitch is a very intelligent music historian. For years he hosted a very popular radio program in Detroit and he is a huge sports fan.

In the late ‘80’s and early ‘90’s the Detroit Pistons had a great basketball team. At the same time the Chicago Bulls were just coming into their own.

For two years in a row, we performed together with Mitch and the boys at Memorial Day Weekend outdoor festivals. As fate would have it, the Bulls and the Pistons had crucial games on those concert nights. I’ll never forget one of those nights.

We had just come off stage as the opening act and I saw Mitch and his drummer, the famous Johnny B., sitting in one of their Lincolns. They were yelling and cheering and Mitch was pounding on the steering wheel. I knew they had the game on. Soaking wet from sweat, I jumped into the back seat to find out that the game was tied. The Pistons had come from behind.

We traded vulgar remarks back and forth about each other’s favorite team.“

The Bulls are pansies!” Mitch would say as he and Johnny B. would cackle a dirty laugh.

“The Pistons are a bunch of goons,” I would say, sticking up for my beloved Bulls.

It wasn’t in the cards for the Bulls that year, and the Pistons beat them in the final minute, moving on to the Championship Series.

I was so disappointed. I was moaning and swearing sitting there in his back seat. As Mitch and Johnny exited the car to get ready for their show, Mitch leaned back to me and said, “Go ahead, you’re not the first bitch to cry in my back seat.”

All three of us busted out laughing. I recall Mitch having a great show that night. The Piston victory really motivated the whole band. 

In all fairness, Mitch congratulated me on the Bulls victory the following year, but I never heard a word from him for the five more Bulls World Championships after that!