Episode 25: Riding the Cruise Ship

So back in September, U2 was at Gillette Stadium for back-to-back shows. Here is the story of an unexpected occurrence at one of these shows...

FADE IN:
EXT. GILLETTE STADIUM - NIGHT
A large football stadium filled to the brim, with a dinosaurian sized stage in the middle of what was once a football field, but is now the teeming floor for a concert, overpopulated with eager fans.

In a small tunnel leading onto the field, an orange-clad ROB ZEITZ (24) - chubby with glasses, an intelligent forehead, and adorable brown eyes - stands vigil. Unaware of who is about to enter his life...

OPENING CREDITS.

It's amazing how many people I work with who remind me of Chicken Little. Every single event they foresee utter catastrophe. At CountryFest, the predicted rivers of drunken vomit were to flow down the aisles and concourses. When AC Milan and Inter Milan came, they foresaw hooligans brawling. And for U2, they thought the floor would be a maelstrom of chaotic confusion. Because for these shows, there'd be no assigned seating on the floor. Fans could even stand inside the platform that ringed round stage. Diagram:



And of course, everyone survived, and all went well. If anything, allowing people to mill around and stand where they wanted gave us event staff on the floor less work.

I'm on a response team (comprised of 4 or 5 event staff and a supervisor) at Gillette Stadium. Response Team #1, to be specific, and that numerical designation is well deserved. Our supervisor has been around and worked countless events, and all of us are veterans that know what we're doing. So whenever something unexpected/unusual/tricky comes about, we're the team that's implemented to handle it.

Normally for a concert, we're on the floor, pretty much doing stuff that every other staffer on the floor is doing. But for the first U2 show, we had a special assignment...

Tom Cruise was attending, along with wife Katie Holmes and Cameron Diaz. Cruise and Diaz are co-starring in the tentatively titled Knight & Day, which is set in the Midwest, and was being shot in various Boston suburbs.

There was a VIP platform set-up on the floor. If you look at that diagram posted above, this platform sits on the left side of the diagram, at the back of the floor, in front of sections 142 and 143. At first, we thought we'd just escort Cruise & Company through the tunnel in the bowels of Gillette Stadium, then across the short distance from the tunnel to the VIP platform.

Wrong.

Cruise & Co. arrive via helicopter at around 8:30, with U2 scheduled to go on at 9. Days later, the Boston Herald would produce a lie-riddled gossip piece about Cruise showing up late, and security preventing people from taking pictures of him. Utterly false tabloid bullshit.

So we're waiting in what's normally the visiting team tunnel, waiting for Cruise & Co. to disembark from their chopper.



It's then that we find out that they want to take-in a few songs right next to the stage, then go to the VIP Platform. No big deal, our response team is extremely flexible. The plan now was to take Cruise & Co. out to a cleared spot next to the stage, form a wide perimeter around them, and make sure nobody bothered them.

Then Cruise, Holmes, and Diaz arrive. Cameron Diaz is, in a word, statuesque (Definition: like or suggesting a statue, as in massive or majestic dignity, grace, or beauty). Her body was carved by some 15th century Renaissance sculptor, then turned into flesh and bone by a mystical Bohemian sorcerer and sent into the future for the males of the 21st century to enjoy.



And her smile was so radiant that its luminousness could transform the darkest black hole into the brightest eternal light.



The plan was to wait until the house lights went down to bring Cruise & Co. out. Thus cloaking their arrival in darkness, so only those immediately adjacent would even know they were there.

So we're standing in the visiting team tunnel. Cruise walks up and stands next to me. He's not short, at least not wicked short. I'd say average to slightly below average in height.

We have a strict rule not to talk to athletes/celebrities unless they talk to us first. So I'm just watching the fans that line the walls above the tunnel, doing my job. Calm, cool, and professional.

"How long did it take to set-up the stage?" I hear a Cruiselike voice ask. I turn my head, and see Tom looking at me.

I had to bite my tongue from saying the first thing that popped into my head: "Are you talking to me, Tom Cruise?" Instead, I sputter out "About 5 days I think."

An aside: this stage was massive, the largest EVER for a touring production.



I wasn't exaggerating about how long it took to construct this monstrosity. You'll notice it has 8 massive banks of speakers, a jumbotron that wraps around above the stage, and 4 massive legs from which all this is suspended, not to mention countless lights and cameras pinned all over this beast, which reminded me of the giant creatures from The Mist.



Back to Tom Cruise. My answer of "5 days" utterly thrilled the guy. His face lit-up, then he went back to Katie and Cameron, giddy about how long it took to build the stage. He came back and proceeded to ask me more and more.

"How many people does this place hold for football?" "How many people will be here tonight?" "Do you work all the football games?" "What other concerts have been here?"

Every answer elates him. My responses excited him more than I was excited to be talking to him, which is saying a lot. I kept glancing at the other people on my response team, who were holding in laughs as I struggled to contain my star-struckedness.

The whole time, I'm thinking that I'm talking to Jerry Maguire, Maverick, Les Grossman, Chief John Anderton, Dr. Bill Harford, Cole Trickle, Ron Kolvic, and so on. This guy made generation-defining movies that are quoted and referenced countless times. He's added to our vernacular and to our metaphorical vocabulary. People dress up as his characters (or even him) for Halloween. Complete strangers know more about him than we know about our own friends and even families.















He's worked for Stanley Kubrick, Steven Spielberg, PT Anderson (who sucks) and Oliver Stone. He's worked with Jamie Foxx, Nicole Kidman, Kenneth Branagh, Colin Farrell, Philip Seymour Hoffman, Brad Pitt, Jack Nicholson, Tim Robbins, Gene Hackman, Ed Harris, and everyone who's anyone.

I started volunteering facts to him on my own, trying to extend the conversation. I tell him U2 was touring with 3 of these monster stage set-ups, and one was being constructed in Giants Stadium as we spoke.

Every fact divulged, and he'd scurry back to Katie and Cameron, who were gabbing about celebrity stuff or whatever, and excitedly convey what he'd just learned. The factoid that got him the most enthused was that 180 tractor trailers were needed to bring in all the equipment. "Guys, it took 180 trucks to bring all this stuff in here!" he practically screamed to the two starlets.

I wish I'd researched U2's stage a bit more before the show. I could've busted out some whoppers, such as:

The stage structure is 164 feet tall

The apparatus can support 200 tonnes

Each structure cost between 15 and 20 million British Pounds to build

U2 plans to leave these structures in various places around the world as permanent concert venues

These tidbits would've really blown his socks off.

He then starts telling me about his trip in. He contains a giggle as he tells me that he arrived via helicopter. "There was a lot of traffic down there on the road, is that the only road into here?" He asked.

And I can just picture him in the helicopter, Cameron Diaz reading a book, Katie Holmes talking to her agent on the phone, and Tom Cruise glued to the window like a 5 year-old on his first plane trip. "Wow! Look at all the cars down there!"

I shouldn't make fun. He was a nice guy. I very rarely call people "friendly" but that word fits him as perfectly as Cameron Diaz's dresses fit her abs. He talked to me as if there weren't massive differences in fame and finances between us. I was the one being shallow, and was never able to address him as an actual person, but only as an IMDb page.

But he was kind of a dork, in a likable way. He was excited to be there, excited to be in a Stadium he'd never been to before. After I ran out of fun facts, and had a case of writer's block as I stood there literally dumbfounded, he did the rounds in the tunnel. He talked to the State Police Bomb Squad guys, then to the Norfolk County Sheriff's Deputies, then to some EMTs. All the time he's waving to people as they snap pictures from the seats that line the sides of the tunnel.

Finally, it was show-time. Bono ran by us, Tom Cruise roaring his applause louder than any of the 75,000 in attendance. The lights went down, and we assisted Cruise's security guys in transporting him stageside. We then created a pocket for his little crew.



They listened to a few songs. One guy with credentials tried to cut into the pocket (just trying to cut through, didn't know who was behind us), and I denied his entry. He flashed his credential and I busted out my favorite three word chestnut for people with insufficient credentiality: "Not good enough." I used to use that line at BC football when I guarded the backdoor of the visiting team locker room, and BC people with "All Access" credentials tried to cut through.

After a few songs, it was time to move to the VIP platform. We'd use the tunnel underneath the East Side Concourse. And we assumed Cruise & Co. would utilize the golf carts they rode in on, with us jogging alongside Secret Service Style. Nope.

Once they got into the tunnel, Cruise bolted! They didn't want to miss a single note of a single song. Diaz and Holmes followed. Now these are Hollywood types obsessed with physical fitness (and also contractually obligated to be in shape), but we relatively sluggish security folk did a good job of keeping up with them. But thank God I don't smoke anymore, otherwise I would've collapsed around the 50 yard line.





We then escorted Cruise & Co. to the nearby VIP platform, which was relatively uneventful. This Platform duty was downright boring, to be honest. The few people on it were invited guests of U2, and it was already secured by staff. We remained there just in case something happened. Nothing did. But Sam Neill was there. It was difficult not to quote Jurassic Park or Event Horizon to him.





Just before the show ended, we escorted Cruise & Co. from the VIP Platform, back to the tunnel underneath the Stadium. And as quickly as he entered my life, Tom Cruise exited. But by the time he left, he had earned one more fan.

FADE TO BLACK.


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