This is not really Michael Phelps. But it was a good weekend to kinda look like the guy, as was evident by the more than a few women (and men) who made reference to the resemblance.

No, this guy is named Crazy Jay, and he lives in San Francisco. I don't know the dude, but he went to college with my buddy Rich, whom I haven't seen since my wedding (Summer 2006). So when Rich, who lives in Cleveland, took a few vacation days to see San Francisco, I got an offer to crash with Jay, who apparently lives in a cooler city than me. (Those are Rich's words.)

Here are some photos:

On Thursday morning, I awake to a parking ticket for 45 bucks, man. What the heck? Turns out, if you're parked on a hill with a grade of more than 3%, you have to turn -- or "block" -- your wheels, so your car doesn't "run away." Grrrr.

This is me at Oakland Colosseum. As fortune would have it, the Rays were in town. The last Rays game I attended was two seasons ago -- with Rich back in Tampa. So we hit up the BART (one of the few times I used public transportation all freaking weekend) to catch Thursday's game in Oakland (which, judging by the sunburn on my face, is a lot sunnier than San Francisco).

Former Fresno State Bulldog Matt Garza was there. But he didn't pitch.

Instead, this guy with the weird windup did. Well, he was one of a dozen relievers -- since the game went 12 innings.

The president of the Carlos Pena fan club was there. (This was my view, btw -- right into the visiting dugout -- thanks, Rich!)

Speaking of Carlos Pena (yeah ... I totally got the ball in the frame with my point-and-shoot):

I saw Rocco Baldelli make the No. 2 play on SportsCenter that night.

And my team won ... woo hoo! Sorry, Athletic supporters A's fans. Got nothing but love for ya.

On the platform, waiting to get back across the Bay, I noticed that folding your arms was a popular activity to do. I also noticed that the guy on the left and the guy in the reflection are two different guys.

Did they use the grounds of this overpriced Calistoga winery for Sherwood Forest in Costner's "Robin Hood"?

Jay doing his best Michael Phelps at the shops along Main Street Napa:

Me and Rich at a Mediterranean restaurant on Haight.

Rich tipped the stripper belly dancer:

Jay reacting to my hard round of Scrabble at the bar late-night hangout establishment. Then I fell asleep. (Seriously. Right there at the, erm, place.)

This was the hill I had to walk up and down countless times over four days. (See my truck at the top? Wheels turned in.)

We got passed by a flash mob of zombies ... if Fresno had more of these crazies running around, maybe my east-coast friends would visit here.

Me riding a mechanical horsey:

Obligatory photo of sea lions (not seals) at Pier 39:

Yawning sea lion:

Jay's impression of yawning sea lion:

Random guy's impression of sleeping sea lion (he looks like I did the night before):

Speaking of obligatory photos:

Watching the fog literally roll in:

Despite all the walking up and down hills and all over the darn city (including from the Embarcadero to Italian Town, with a detour along the way to go up and then down Lombard Street, and back through the financial district, wherever that is, only to then finally take the BART to the Mission -- I hate this guy Jay), I had a great time seeing what it's like to "live" in San Francisco.

And it was a dream to once again hang out with the guy who sat next to me for four years in high school homeroom:

His name is Rich, and he had the second-highest GPA in our graduating class. So, ladies, if you're looking to relocate to classy Cleveland ... he's available.