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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