History
History does indeed repeat itself.Two years ago, on a very bad oversight by the radio station program director, I had to dash 50 miles to call a high school football playoff game. The program director said they knew I was coming. They did, but the program director neglected to tell me that I would be broadcasting the game from ON TOP of the press box.
Yes, I’m deathly afraid of heights. I wasn’t overly happy with where they stuck me. Not only that, there was a hill to the south of the field and the wind came rolling down off of that. I was so cold. I had taken a coat and had my hood up, gloves on and a blanket wrapped around me and my father who was helping take stats. My teeth were chattering on air as I called the football game. It was a horrible experience.
Until last night.
I drove 35 miles to call another football game on the radio. This school is right on the edge of the flint hills and the stadium sits very high. Almost as an afterthought, I threw my coat in just in case it would be chilly in the press box. What a good afterthought!
When my pops and I arrived, we sought out the AD to ask where he wanted us in the press box. He said “Oh, we’ve got a table up there for you.” The only table that was there was OUTSIDE.
Sure enough, we were going to be outside. I looked at my father and said “This shit isn’t happening again is it?” He stared back at me and shook his head weakly. There was enough of a breeze that I had trouble keeping the papers in front of me from blowing over the top of the stadium. Dad looked at me and said “Oh it’s not that bad right now,” to which I responded with one of my looks. A look of “WTF are you smoking?”
Before I could encourage any more conversation, I spent the next 10 minutes trying to figure out the cell phone I had been given to call the game. I couldn’t figure it out and was getting pissed about it. Finally, I saw the power button on the cell phone on the top of the phone. My frustration melted away and with it, the heat keeping me warm. By the time of kickoff, I was frigid. I was trying to keep stats with gloves on. Thank goodness I have a fondness for winter golf gloves which are warm, but thin. I scribbled a note to my father saying I was cold. He nodded because I think his mouth had frozen shut.
About the middle of the second quarter, I told my studio engineer (fancy term for button pusher) I was seriously considering peeing on myself to warm me up. Of course that would only be warm for a while before I would go back to freezing. I’m sure sitting on the concrete as they didn’t have bleachers didn’t help the cause of staying warm.
My knees were so stiff I nearly fell down the steps. Yes, I know, not much of a surprise, me nearly falling, but I blame the cold.
Good gosh, how does this shit happen to me again?
posted by Rusty @ 8:28 AM
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