The Top-Secret Dinner between the 49ers and Jadeveon Clowney that Never Happened

Guy said he had a scoop for me.

Guy said he had a scoop for me.

Guy said Jadeveon Clowney’s agent, Bus Cook, met twice with 49ers general manager John Lynch and once with 49ers president Paraag Marathe and the 49ers might sign Clowney. This was before Clowney fired Cook and signed with the Tennessee Titans.

I immediately emailed my boss, Glenn Nelson, and told him what I had learned. He said I owed the 49ers an opportunity to respond.

Good advice.

So I emailed John Lynch. Told him what I had learned and asked if I was correct. Three hours later, Lynch had a P.R. person call me to tell me the information was all wrong and not to report it. He said someone was trying to make me look bad.

I was skeptical. I told Guy what the P.R. person said and Guy doubled down. Said of course the general manager would say that. Then said Clowney, Clowney’s agent, Lynch, Marathe, Jed York and Kyle Shanahan were going to have dinner at Fleming’s Steakhouse in Santa Clara at 7:00 p.m. on Thursday Sept. 3.

I was hooked.

I decided to stake out the steakhouse. This is what responsible, enterprising journalists do, I told myself.

I pulled into the Flemming’s parking lot at 5:00 -- two hours before the supposed dinner would begin. I wanted to get a good parking space. I pulled right in front, lowered the driver’s seat and peered over the window. This was effective, but I felt I was too conspicuous. Surely Lynch, Clowney, Shanahan, Marathe and the whole crew would see me, the dinner would be canceled and the deal would be off.

So I pulled around to the back of the parking lot and took out my binoculars. But cars kept driving in front and cutting off my view. So I kept changing parking spaces. I must have been the worst staker-outer ever.

While sat in the parking lot, I fantasized about taking pictures of the group eating dinner. Fantasized about filming a standup from the parking lot with the dinner party over my shoulder. Fantasized about breaking the news and then picking up a filet mignon to go. Fantasized about the look on Lynch’s face when he saw me grab my food and realized I had broken the story and become the most famous sports writer in America.

As I was fantasizing, I noticed there was no indoor seating at Fleming’s. There was just an outdoor patio with 10 tables and zero privacy.

Seemed like the worst place for a top-secret dinner.

Then 7:00 rolled around. And then 7:30. And the 49ers didn’t show. And neither did Clowney. Apparently he wasn’t even in California -- he was in Texas.

I packed up my binoculars and drove home without eating dinner, because dinner is for closers.

Thank goodness I never reported that scoop.

Thank you, Glenn.

Thank you, John.

And thanks a lot, Guy.