July 28, 2020

 

Another day off.  It’s a day off, but I still get paid.  So physically it is a day off but financially it’s another ten hours in the salt mines. The weather was favorable, so I headed over to the pool nearest my casita for a little reading and relaxing after my required morning ritual.

 

This specific pool is also the favorite hangout for the referees.  Those guys are there from 11am until deep into the evening, providing they don’t have a game that day.  Now keep in mind if this were the regular, normal season, they would never be together like this in the numbers they are. It appears, at least to me, they are really enjoying themselves.  As a group, they love to play dominoes, drink wine, and not socially distance as much as they should.  Security is constantly reminding them to put on their masks or spread out a bit more than they are.  They always oblige, but they are a rambunctious bunch and rarely have the opportunity to have this many of themselves in one location at one time.

 

Our normal interaction with them is pretty limited.  Sure, during the regular season we come across one another and recognize each other, but we hardly have social interaction. This bubble has allowed us to see them every day, and have high level chit chat now and then.  They like to use the pickleball court that has been established, and I hear them comment that they should have sole access to the court near the dining area, and everyone else should have to use the newly established court out in the parking lot.  That newly established court is hotter than hell. Not a good deal for anyone that is not a referee.

 

So anyway, being the pickleball expert that I have become after playing one game, suggested to them that we should simply have a challenge game each morning and whomever won that game would have sole possession of the court for the day. If the refs won, the court was theirs for the day, if we, or any other entity won, then the officials would be relegated to the parking lot for the day.  They did not like that idea.  They said that was their net and their equipment and it should be only for them.  I had one response.  Pussies.

 

Now this next conversation could never had existed if this was your normal NBA season.  After their flat rejection of the pickleball playoff suggestion, the conversations were pretty generic as they spoke about game coverage, their schedule, the complexities of bubble life, but one piped in that they had a tee time the next morning.  What, the refs get to golf?

 

The restrictions on the people in the green zone bubble are as follows, at least in regards to recreational options.  The players and team personnel have the most options, followed by the referees, and then everyone else. The television crew in the red and yellow zones have access to golf at the Waldorf, but us greenies at Coronado Springs have no such luxury.  Hardly seems fair, but the refs get to golf?  They are closer to the players than any of us. So this provided me with a great opportunity to spice up the conversation by suggesting to the officiating crew that we should have the same opportunities they do, because, in reality, we camera operators are referees as well.  How do you figure they responded.

 

I have wanted to say this for a long time.  All I needed to say were the six words that slow most every sporting event in recent memory…”The last play is under review.” In a joking manner I told this group of fun loving, domino playing, wine drinking individuals that we have to do the job that they can’t because whenever there is an issue, they go to the monitors to make the right call, or the coaches request a review because they may have made the wrong call.  I told them we have to shoot the game differently now to cover their asses.  Dead silence.  Crickets.  Oh no.  What have I done?  Then one of the older officials piped in that it was job security for us!  That drew laughter and I was off the hook.  That was a risky conversation.  And that conversation could only have occurred in this environment because we were all in the same situation and nobody has any issue with anyone.  We are all happy to be here, happy to be working, happy for the comradery that we have discovered.  I’m just happy they didn’t kick my ass!

 

I received a call at about 5:30 pm to do a zoom interview with a local television station in Tucson.  The reporter, David Kelly, wanted to know if I had access to a computer or device with that capability.  I said I had computer, a phone, and an Ipad which I could utilize.  No problem.  He wanted to get my perspective of life in the bubble and I was more than happy to oblige.  “What time do you want to do this?” I inquired.  “How about 6?” he responded.  “Great, send me the link to the meeting and I will see you in a half hour.”

 

I have never met Dave personally but I have seen him on television several times.  This zoom interview was going to be recorded, then he would go back and pick and choose the portions that he thought would be interesting to the viewers.  I chose to use my computer for this effort, as it was raining once again and I wanted to be in a location where there would be privacy and no interruptions.

 

Being the ever prepared person that I am, I opened my computer and previewed my image on the camera.  This lighting was horrible!  I could not go on television, working in the business myself, looking that way.  What to do, what to do?  I couldn’t sit in from of the window because then the background would be the bathroom.  When I turned on all the lights in the room I was so heavily backlit that I looked like one of those people that reporters try to disguise when the subject doesn’t want to be identified. I have twenty minutes to figure this out.  Oh yeah, I have a solution.

 

I propped one of my suitcases on it’s side on the top of the desk where my placed the desk lamp on the suitcase, but laid the lamp on it’s side so the brightness from the light shown directly at my face.  The light was an LED lamp, and it looked great.  It brightened my face but not too intensely, and the light fell off enough to not cause any shadow behind me.  The background was my two beds, and, like my wife has taught me, both were neatly made by me and not housekeeping as they only come every third day.  I am pretty sure if Deidre were here, she would have made adjustments to my bed making attempt, but this would be fine.

 

The interview started promptly at 6:00pm. David complimented me on the nice lighting that he could see from my end.  I have to say, if he could see how I accomplished it, that may have been a story in itself. The questions were everything bubble.  I told him about quarantine, about the meals, about the protocol, the daily challenges, the closeness we are with the players.  It was a very easy and enjoyable interview…and it went on for over forty five minutes.  Very few reporters are allowed in the green zone so everything we touched on was fascinating from his perspective.  I was careful to only speak for myself and not speculate what others may be thinking.  I tried to be as accurate as I could and not reveal anything that may be considered controversial or misleading.  I hate it when people getting interviewed try to speak on behalf of someone else.  That isn’t truth, that’s hearsay.  Not that anything I was relating was of that magnitude, but I needed to be careful.

 

That forty five plus minutes flew by.  I had no idea we were conversing for that length of time.  He was very easy to talk to.  It felt like we were two guys that knew each other for a long time, yet we had only met a few hours before via a telephone conversation.  I can’t wait to see how it turns out when it is aired.  I just hope my wife doesn’t comment on the state of the beds behind me.