Slow Getting Up: A Story of NFL Survival from the Bottom of the Pile by Nate Jackson:
We always have the same rotation of flight attendants. They are the queen bees of the United flight attendant hive. And on this flight they don’t have to go through any of the standard preflight safety instruction mumbo-jumbo. Everyone knows God loves the NFL too much to crash one of its planes. They also don’t have to enforce the FAA’s draconian passenger guidelines: seat back up, seat belt on, electronics off, bags under seats, no congregating in the galleys, no yelling obscenities or throwing grapes or looking at nudie magazines.
I say hello to the ladies on the way in and find my seat, labeled with a sticker with my name on it. The plane is big and spacious. Coaches up front in the luxury seats. Operational staff, media, marketing, equipment guys, trainers, etc., are crammed in next to each other in the middle cabin. We are in the back. I stretch out and listen to some music and pretend to read a book.
After a four-hour flight, the airplane lands and pulls up next to a fleet of buses. I descend the stairs in slow motion. I look magnificent. Somebody look at me! But there is no one to welcome us. We are shuttled, bused, and flown to the doorstep of every destination, escorted in through back doors under cover of police escorts and velvet ropes.