July 21, 2020

 

It’s my wife’s birthday today.  Not much I can really do with her to celebrate.  A phone call, maybe a


nice message of Facebook, but COVID has severely restricted any kind of gift or suggestion that I may consider sending her way.  I had been trying to think of something to do, but neither of us are big on flowers, she’s not a spa type woman, and she sure as hell isn’t going to go out for dinner alone.  Fortunately our daughter came home over the weekend and gave her one of those upright pool loungers that allow you to float on your back in a position that will allow you to read, or watch TV (we have a ramada near the pool with a nice big screen TV) and a place to position an ice cold drink.  She will surely get full use of that gift.  I owe her something, I just can’t figure out what. Time, she wants time with me, and that is something I can’t provide currently.

So back to the arenas we go.  Today each arena goes through a complete technical check, then we, one arena after the other, shoot a simulated game with players that are not NBA players, but appear to be people that are in the green zone that were able to bring their basketball shoes and have a full court scrimmage.  This will kind of give everyone the chance to see what the games will look like when we begin broadcasting.  It’s hard shooting a simulated game when the players are nowhere near the size, nor do they possess the speed or agility of the true NBA players.  To me, I think it is harder.  With the pros, you have a good idea of the structure of the game, the pacing, the fluidity that is the NBA.  With these hacks, the ball was going everywhere.  Air balls, traveling, fouls on each play, balls bouncing off someone’s foot.  But technically, we could see the court was not lit to specifications, there was a lot of glare from the lighting grids, the ribbon boards (those with advertising and the like) bounced reflections off the floor in a manner that was clearly irritating.  Audio-wise, a lot of the floor microphones weren’t balanced.  The ambient sound emanating from each arena wasn’t consistent.  There are giant LED screens on three sides of the court that show fans like they are watching from a zoom meeting.  Then the screens changed and showed team promos, or fans chanting their team’s names.  Logos are flashed, all types of eye NBA related eye candy is blasted constantly on there electronic billboards.  It is wreaking havoc on our video engineers. There is a plethora to work on, but none I could help with.  We have until July 30 to get this right.  We have time.  It will get done, because this is one talented group of people assembled in Orlando.

We were able to board the bus back to the resort bubble around 4pm.  I don’t know about you, but when I don’t do a lot of activity during the day, I feel more tired than if I were physically active throughout that same period of time.  I was dozing during the ride back.  And it’s only a 5 or 7 minute ride. The schedule for the first day of live televised scrimmages came out on the ride back, and I have tomorrow off.  There are no games scheduled in the Visa Center so it will be a day very similar to the quarantine times, except I can get out of my room and take advantage of the few activities that are available to us prisoners, err, guests.

I decided to go on a leisurely walk around the lagoon, taking a meandering path that led me across one of the three bridges.  And to my amazement, who do I stumble upon, fishing pole in hand, trying to snag one of the bass or whatever it is that is stocked in the lagoon…Paul George of the LA Clippers.  Now this is something I don’t think I would ever see if this was a normal regular NBA season. I asked him if he has caught anything.  “Nah, just threw in my line.”  “How are you handling this new normal,” I ask. I can’t believe I used the phrase “new normal.”  I hate that phrase and it vomited out of my mouth way too easily.  If I could take it back, I would.  I can’t believe I said that!  I’m kicking myself even now as I write this.  “New normal.” Crap.  “You get used to it, but it’s not normal” he replied.  I left him alone.  I would guess that a lot of these superstars have to make major behavioral changes as they learn to live inside the bubble, much more than I would have to do.

See, if I would have to make a comparison as to what this NBA bubble is likened, the best I can suggest is a college campus with extreme security placed inside the Biosphere II dome located in Arizona.  We are locked inside its’ confines for a prescribed period of time and we are only allowed to participate in whatever it is that is placed within that dome.  To me, that’s it. I can adapt more readily because I can view this as an extended paid vacation at a resort, but to these athletes, that have a lifestyle way different than me, it has to be a huge adjustment.

During the regular season, these guys travel from city to city, fans are clamoring to get their attention, they have a lot of disposable income to do pretty much whatever they want as they go from place to place.  They eat in restaurants that I could never touch, hit the clubs late in the evening after games, might even have a girlfriend or two here or there.  Who knows, but the life they are used to live is non-existent here inside the bubble.  And they have been here much longer than I have. Yet they are expected to perform at the highest level even though a majority of their normal routine has been erased and replaced with a routine that is nothing like normal.  Their “new normal” is a helluva lot different than my new normal.  Paul George with a complimentary fishing pole on a bridge in the middle of the lagoon at the Disney Coronado Springs Resort speaking candidly with a camera operator from Turner Sports just doesn’t ring “normal” to me. This whole environment reminds me more of the NCAA Final Four than the NBA Restart and Playoffs.

At the Final Four, the teams are housed near one another, play at the same venue, have designated practice times, media times, just like what is taking place right here.  No home court advantage, housed with your teammates, dining together, bussed from place to place.  This rings more true of a college event than a professional one. The players are fishing for recreation for crying out loud.  It is just too surreal when you step back and observe what happens minute by minute.  But, I am damn lucky to be able to be part of it.

Remember Miles Simon from the 1997 National Champion University of Arizona basketball team?  Currently, he is a member of the Los Angeles Lakers coaching staff.  I used to work with him when he was an analyst with ESPN covering the Big 12 Conference.  Anyway, ever since I have been out of quarantine I run into him at least once a day, often twice.  I hop on one of the free bikes to ride, we cross paths.  I walk to the gym, or from the gym, he’s sitting on a bench on the phone.  When I eat dinner outside at one of the dining areas, he comes walking by.  I made a comment to the people I was eating with that I thought Miles was stalking me, who walks by?  Miles Simon.  There is no point to this story, just a mindless commentary of how it is easy to take notice of even the slightest of events.

I think this is a pretty funny story.  I hope I have been pretty clear regarding the seriousness of protocol, how we must test daily, fill out or NBA Health reports, wear masks, use proximity sensors, blah, blah, blah.  Well, there are instances that you do not need to wear a mask.  Like if you are exercising in an open space, or swimming, or walking alone with no one nearby, you can be mask-free.  Again, common sense prevails when it comes to mask wearing, and it appears everyone, at least now, has been able actually show they have it.  Anyway, back to my story.  I was eating my dinner, facing the exit end (or entrance, depending on your perspective) of one of the bridges that goes out to the Villa del Lago restaurant in the middle of the lagoon.  The Lakers, once again, were holding a private function at the facility.  One of their lesser known players was walking back from the event, and he and I at just the right moment caught sight of each other.  He was not wearing a mask, as he was on that bridge by himself with no one around.  It just so happens when he looked at me and I was looking at him, I reached up to scratch my upper lip ever so slightly.  His eyes opened much wider than they were prior to me scratching my lip, and he thought I was signaling him to put his mask on.  Without hesitation, he reached into his pocket and promptly placed his mask on his face. That was not my intent at all, but it was pretty funny to see how quickly he put that mask on after I had taken care of my itch! This gives you yet another example of how everyone is committed to preventing a leak inside this bubble.  I would have never gotten that reaction, intentional or not, outside of this environment.

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