By Jim Schutze
By Rachel Watts
By Lauren Drewes Daniels
By Anna Merlan
By Lee Escobedo
By Eric Nicholson
"He wrote down RR," Magee told the party, "but at first he was going to write JFK."
"I'm too cynical to believe he's psychic," Hansen later said. "But I swear to God that he is. How could he know your thoughts?"
In 2005 he so entertained the Mavericks at their team tip-off luncheon at the W Hotel that players requested him for future gatherings. Except for center DeSagana Diop—born in Senegal—who scurried from the room, fearful that Magee was a witch doctor.
"I've never in my life experienced anything like him," recalls Mavericks' general manager Donnie Nelson. "We go in expecting some guy to show up in a cape with a wand and within minutes he's got us in the palm of his hand. It's like he's a modern-day Jesus."
Says former Cowboy Charlie Waters, "Everybody owns a skill set. Dave's is just beyond comprehension."
At LSP I watch Magee read the mind of KXAS-Channel 5 sports anchor Newy Scruggs, Ryan and a random waiter with whom he'd had no previous interaction. As he walks within 50 feet of our table, Magee whispers to me "10 of clubs."
Calling the waiter over, Magee tells him to flip through a standard deck of playing cards and remember one card. He and Magee write the cards on separate napkins and reveal them simultaneously:
Ten of clubs.
But could David Magee really do me?
He hands me a paperback book about 400 pages thick.
"Flip through, as slow as you want for as long as you want," Magee tells me. "Stop when you feel like it. Now find a word on the page. A long word. Not 'an' or 'the' or 'it.'"
My word, from the middle of the page, two-thirds down: "Curiously." I look him in the eye. I picture my word.
"You're a writer," Magee says, "so you're naturally curious. Right about now you're cur-ious-ly wondering how I knew your word."
No doubt he's also sensing my goose bumps.