Standing Tall in a Sea of Purple

I suppose it’s not politically correct, but the legend of Chief Caddo lives thanks to a college football rivalry. My wife and I had a close encounter with the Chief, who has been standing tall (7 feet, 6 inches to be specific) since 1961.



The chief is semi-nomadic, moving back and forth between the campuses of Stephen F. Austin State University in Texas and Northwestern State University in Louisiana. His residency issue is decided annually. The winner of the game between the schools’ football teams gets custody of the Chief.
It’s the largest trophy in college football, and its pays tribute to a tale about the founding of the two cities which are home to the schools. As the story goes, a chief of the Caddo tribe who made his home on the banks of the Sabine River had two sons. He sent one traveling east and the other traveling west. Where they settled became Nacogdoches, home of SFA and Natchitoches, home of NSU.(Read more about about that here.)

Chief Caddo will reside in Texas for at least another year, because the SFA Lumberjacks won the game and earned a conference championship in the process. For the second time this season, I was pressed into duty as the on-field host for the trophy presentation.



The home team celebrated and had me surrounded. They accepted the conference championship trophy with glee, but it was Chief Caddo who had their attention.



It took about a half-dozen of them to carry him to midfield for the ceremony. His expression never changed, but as someone who has known the chief for a long time, I can tell you he was in a fine humor. He’s not getting any younger and moving can be such a hassle.

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The Face That Frightened Houston

(Houston) – I was going about my business on the floor of Reliant Stadium. In the closing moments of a tight football game between Stephen F. Austin and Sam Houston State, strategy was necessary. We were on live TV and the task at hand was to nab the winning coach for a live post-game interview. There was a three-point difference in the score, so it was anybody’s ball game. SFA had led the whole time, but SHSU was keeping it close.



I stationed myself on the end line of the south end zone, midway between two tunnels and prepared to make my move when unexpectedly an attractive young woman in Houston Texans gear walked up to me,
introduced herself and asked “Are you the sideline reporter?” I said yes, and then she said, “Great. Here’s the microphone for the on-field trophy presentation.” Um, do what?
Well, nobody told Darrell, but stadium operations was counting on me to go all Terry Bradshaw/ Jim Nantz and hand the trophy to the coach of the team that won The Battle of the Piney Woods. I didn’t mind, of course; but it would have been nice to know ahead of time. Next thing I knew, my craggy old mug was on the JumboTrons at an NFL stadium as I was surrounded by the team that won the latest game in a storied Texas rivalry that dates back to 1923. I later discovered the proceedings were broadcast live on TV, too. Sometimes, you’ve just got to roll with it, baby.



Long ago, I gave up on the idea of making it big-time in TV sports. Maybe I got the tiniest taste of it on this trip. My pass said I represented network TV. I mean, it’s technically true. I was working for the conference’s TV network; but, you know, in that setting you think CBS or FOX or something.



We were in an NFL Stadium, so that was a little kick in the pants. This game was moved to Houston to help set it apart, and by all accounts the event exceeded expectations. Fans turned out in record numbers. The stadium operations people put on a big show, displaying all the gizmos and glitter they put to use on Sundays. They even fired the loudest little cannon you’ll ever hear whenever there was a score.



It was a fun afternoon, but I have to admit it felt a little ridiculous to be in the middle of all that post-game commotion.



It worked out, though. I figured after more than three decades of covering college football I had done just about everything I was destined to do. So, it was nice to have a new experience. I just wish I had known it was coming. That’s okay. Somehow I don’t think Jim Nantz is worried about it.

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The Art of the Emergency Sandwich

(Nacogdoches, TX) - We are learning to love the smaller, less-complicated version of college football. There’s something unquestionably thrilling about LSU games and other comparable events. Going to a game where fifteen thousand or so people attend also has its rewards. If you love football, a good FCS (formerly 1-AA) game has its own appeal.



So much of any shared experience is defined by the company you keep and I am fortunate to be often accompanied by an extremely likeable personal assistant. (This is a technique I learned long ago from a veteran sportscaster: bring along the woman you’re currently sleeping with and call her your “personal assistant). Not only is she a good road companion, even keeping a positive attitude when forced into an extended full stop by a wreck up ahead, but she is a hard worker who seems eager to please.



We also have the benefit of longevity. She’s been assisting me personally for twenty-five years, and I’m a better man for it.
The fact that she actually enjoys coming along on my little broadcasting adventures is not to be underappreciated. It’s good to know she’s looking out for my best interests. Let’s take our most recent daytrip as an example. Having learned long ago that press box food is a hit-and-miss proposition, she packed “emergency sandwiches.” Well, wouldn’t you know it? The aforementioned long delay on the highway created a time crunch by the time we finally arrived at the stadium for the broadcast. So, the sandwiches came in handy.
The day was unseasonably warm. Your sideline reporter, swathed in a blazer and tie, started sweating. The trusty personal assistant was nearby, dutifully wiping a wet forehead.



She was also a vigilant guardian of the blazer. I only really needed it when I was appearing on-camera, and you don’t want those crazy college kids to vandalize TV man’s outerwear. Thanks to the watchful eye of the PA, Ol’ Blue was safe.



We wondered aloud how many blazers I have abused over the years in the name of broadcasting. There’s always a blazer hanging in the back of my car, usually with a necktie or two (or three, or more) draped over the lapels.
You never know when you’ll need one. You might spill nacho cheese on your coat or tie, and a blue blazer goes with almost anything in a pinch. I’ve kept some so long that the liners have ripped or the elbows have become threadbare. I’ve also “outgrown” one or two over the last quarter-century.
The blazers and the ball games have come and gone. Many have been retired; many more have probably been forgotten. The Personal Assistant has been there through them all, and I’m happy about that. It’s good to know you have someone you can count on to take care of your garments.

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The White Hot Spotlight of Regional TV

(Natchitoches, LA) – Do you remember the movie “Broadcast News” (1987)? One of the most memorable scenes in it involves a character played by Albert Brooks. A credible, hard-working broadcast journalist, Brooks’ character gets an opportunity to anchor at the network level. While doing so, he breaks out in a nervous sweat.
I thought about that today as I hosted the “Toyota Intermission Report” between games of a men’s and women’s basketball double header on the Southland Conference Television Network. About five minutes into the show, I was sweating vigorously, if not profusely. It had little to do with nerves but rather was a function of the furious pace of setting up the show immediately following the first game and the proximity of the lights. Plus, it was warm in the arena and I was wearing a wool suit. I could have chosen something more light-weight like a blazer and slacks, but it’s January!
I had a half-hour to fill without script, but with plenty of scores, standings and interviews. It was the kind of television I really love: live, extemporaneous and on location. It’s been almost five years since I anchored from a studio with a TelePrompTer. I believe if the opportunity to do so should arise, it would be like falling off a log. I made one mistake today, tossing to a break before I was supposed to. That’s an issue and I know I tackled the production guys for a loss, but I hope we all recovered well.
Even though I don’t do this sort of thing for a living anymore, I still like to think I have enough intellectual dexterity to pull it off without embarrassing myself or the network. Deep experience certainly helps. I see young broadcasters who have such a dependency on their prompters, some of them really struggle when they’re asked to be live from a remote location.
On a personal level, I really enjoyed going to Northwestern State and doing this assignment. Many of the people there have been a part of my life for decades and it was a pleasure to see them again. It was comfortable to spend time with coaches and broadcasters I’ve known for so long. My wife went along and observed from a distance. She later said, “It really looked like they were happy to see you.” I hope she’s right.
I look forward to doing it again, assuming I’m asked. I feel fully confident that I’m up to the task. Really, no sweat!
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Here's a peek behind the curtain: You get two guys who are not as young as they used to be. Shine television lights in their eyes. While they are live on the air, tell the host through the gizmo in his ear to refer to something on the monitor. Then watch with hilarity as the two old guys try in vain to actually read the information. Their faces might look something like this:

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Many Hats, Many Shirts

Life as an independent broadcast professional can be colorful and confusing. Incredibly, my mug showed up on TV on two stations on the same day in divergent contexts. If against all odds you might have seen parts of both broadcasts and you had the television on "mute," you still could have easily discerned the difference. In the early morning, I was in a suit making my contribution to "Wonderful Day Ark-La-Tex," discussing common illnesses among house pets.
In the evening, I found myself on the sidelines of a football game donned in a sporty white polo shirt with the TV network's logo on the chest. My mission was to report on interesting sidebars during the course of the game and host the halftime festivities.
All of this took place less than 24 hours after juggling the wardrobe between my full-time job and another freelance broadcast assignment. With a late Friday afternoon meeting in a sport coat and tie, I had to hustle home and change into "sponsored" clothing for a radio broadcast of a football game in central Louisiana. Think about that for a second. I have a sponsored garment for a radio broadcast. It may not make sense on its face, but there's a free shirt in the mix, so I'll take it.
As the juggling of these assignments required a certain amount of sartorial dexterity, it also meant spending some quality time with my old friend Interstate 49. Thank God for satellite radio. My SUV is my best friend these days. It has everything I need: leather seats, Bose speakers, Siruis/XM, an iPod dock, air conditioning that blows cold and plenty of room for several changes of clothes.
Naturally, given this brief spike in broadcasting activity, I checked the DVR's. I like the tan suit best. It makes me look skinny. Who knew neutral tones with window pane stitching had a slimming effect? Now, if I can just do something about that old-looking face......

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