Eddie and Sammy in New York City, September 12, 1985.
Irving took me aside. "When this show's over," he told me, "I'm getting you in a limo, and we're getting out of here." My plane was waiting to take me home. It was the worst show we'd ever done in our lives. Eddie played so bad. He smashed his favorite guitar to pieces. Sprayed shrapnel into the crowd. He got on the microphone, crying. "You don't understand," he said. "You people pay my rent. I love you people."
They tell me he pulled some crazy shit on the plane home. My man was completely gone and out of it. I went straight to my plane after the show and home to San Francisco. I never spoke to him again after telling him to keep his hand off my shirt.
From the forthcoming book RED: My Uncensored Life in Rock by Sammy Hagar. Copyright © 2011 by Sammy Hagar. To be published on March 15, 2011 by IT Books, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.
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