Well after three years and countless events (I estimate it to be around 290 total, with around 70 of those being large-scale events), they've made me a supervisor. Scary, isn't it? I'm responsible for other people.
And to be honest, it took that many events, and that much time for me to be mature, decisive, and confident enough to be a supervisor. I still remember the overwhelming feeling of taking tickets at my first Pats game. How can one feel overwhelmed by taking tickets? I'm kind of ashamed to admit that I was, and only do so now because I'm not overwhelmed anymore.
I remember the power trips I'd go on as an usher. How thrilled I'd be to participate in the ejection of an annoying fan. Now I do my utmost NOT to kick someone out.
I remember chain-smoking before events to ease my anxiety, not being able to sleep the night before a Pats game, and needing 20 hours of lying down to rest my feet after a 10 hour event.
I've come a long way; from timid ticket taker, to uppity usher, to reserved and reticent roamer, to reassured radio guy, and now hopefully a sure-handed supervisor.
My first taste of supervising came when the Revs hosted Portuguese champs Benfica. I was "shadowing" another supervisor, leading a roam team. The shadowing process is a way to gradually introduce potential supervisors to the ins and outs of the position. But it's also a step in the evaluation process. I shadowed a roam team supervisor, but was actually told to run the team for the night.
Thankfully, I was working with people I've worked with dozens of times, and who I trust. Nevertheless, it was a very different, almost jarring experience. I learned a great deal, and in abrupt fashion.
As I mentioned, Benfica were in town to play the Revs. We had about 13,000 fans show up, almost all of whom wore the red colors of Benfica. One particular duty of our team was to cover the visitors' tunnel.
It's a fairly straightforward task, but it's a highly visible post, so there's little margin for error. For pregame, we had two staff at the bottom corners, and two at the top. Minimal coverage, but all that was necessary.
At half-time, we supplemented our coverage with staff from another team. This kind of interteam cooperation is something altogether new to me. It sounds so basic and simple, particularly in this cases, but in other instances it's been a very novel concept for me. Anyway, just before half-time, I had to brief the additional staff on what to do. I was surprised at how succinct I was:
"Go down the aisle, walk into the row about 1/3 of the way down, go all the way to the edge of the tunnel, crouch until half-time, then stand up, watch the crowd. DO NOT look out to the field, or into the tunnel. Watch for projectiles, and get my attention if anything happens."
That went off without a hitch. The Benfica fans were loud, passionate, and highly excitable, though quite orderly. And they didn't come to Gillette to hurl bottles at their favorite team.
But not everyone in attendance was a Benfica supporter. Two guys showed up wearing the green and white stripes of Sporting Clube de Portugal (which I erroneously called Sporting Lisbon, but that's a common mistake that even ESPN has made). Sporting CP and Benfica are bitter rivals.
And these two green and white clad guys not only stood out, they spoke out. It was all in good nature, but that's tough to tell when people are yelling at each other in a foreign tongue. And as a general rule, you always observe the guys/gals who stick out. Whether it's the Notre Dame fan at BC football, or the 60 year old guy loitering by the bathrooms at a Taylor Swift concert.
The two Sporting CP fans not only drew the crowd's attention (and subsequently ours), they drew some followers: more guys wearing the green and white. They coalesced into a gang of maybe 10 Sporting CP fans, and roamed from section to section in our corner of the Stadium, being annoying, but not antagonizing. They were pests, not threats.
In general, it was a quiet night, until the 85th minute of the game. This tends to happen. You'll spend most of your time roaming the concourse, fielding general questions about seat locations and the club-level elevators. You'll discuss with your team how quiet the night's been. Then multiple things transpire at once. And if you don't stay loose and relaxed in your head, you're toast.
Around the 85th minute, I had to brief some of the ushers to help us cover the visitors' tunnel, a missing child report was being broadcast over the radio, an usher pointed out a potentially drunk patron propped up against a steel column, and there was some sort of commotion going on a few sections to our left.
Two new charges/challenges for me as supervisor are:
#1: Delegating responsibility within my own team.
#2: Coordinating responsibilities with the other teams so that we work together in concert.
My radio guy jotted down the lost child's info (and yes, he was eventually reunited with his parents). The supervisor I was shadowing went to check on the commotion in section 120. But another team had shifted south towards our "territory," as they knew that our team had the tunnel, so they filled in and picked up the slack. I found a pair of policemen to give the potentially drunk guy a sobriety check. But I couldn't stay long enough to get the guy's information or ticket, as I had to brief a half dozen ushers for the tunnel. Over the radio, I called in the sobriety check, while simultaneously conversing with the ushers. And I do mean simultaneously:
"Romeo-2 to Observation. Alright guys we're going to be covering the visiting team tunnel. I have police already on scene giving a sobriety check to a male behind Section 117. We want to ensure that nothing gets thrown at the players when they come off. Copy that. Go down the aisle, walk into the row about 1/3 of the way down, go all the way to the edge of the tunnel, crouch until half-time, then stand up, watch the crowd. Romeo-2 to Observation. DO NOT look out to the field, or into the tunnel. That sobriety check behind 117 has resulted in a PC. Watch for projectiles, and get my attention if anything happens. I copy."
I sent the two staff from my team to the bottom corners again, then asked the ushers which side of the tunnel they'd prefer to cover. I then asked myself "Does that matter? And who the hell would have a preference anyway?" So I arbitrarily directed "You two go left, you two go right."
As you can tell form this blog, I think a lot. I'm pensive, contemplative, I drill down, I dissect, I analyze, I examine and reexamine. It's a strength and a liability. I rarely make the same mistake twice, but I've been prone to hesitate with simple decisions like which ushers should cover which side of the visitors' tunnel.
But I've learned that a lot of things don't need to be thought over or analyzed, they just need to get done. And I've also noticed that in high-stress situations, I just do what I do. Then when the proverbial smoke clears, I'll give it a think. And in the above situation, I spent more time thinking about who should cover which side of the tunnel, than I did about the sobriety check/missing child/usher briefing cluster.
There's an old poker adage: "Think long, think wrong." Don't think about that. It's true.
As Benfica slowly vacated the field, one by one, some of their members lingered in the tunnel, signing autographs. Fans would float down a jersey or hat, the player would sign, then toss the paraphernalia back. I thought it was pretty cool of them.
Unfortunately, this wasn't enough for some fans in another part of the Stadium. Several "invaded the pitch," which is soccer lingo for hopping onto the field. While our team couldn't really do much about that as we were fully enveloped by Benficans and 60 yards way, I still learned yet another lesson.
A roam team went onto the field too. They didn't try to tackle or apprehend the invaders. And nobody got tased.
The team went down to the field to DIFFUSE any incidents, to DETER against any further encroachment, and to be present to DEFEND the players/coaches if need be. The Three D's. I just made that up. And I was impressed by the gall and the initiative of the team, coupled with their composure not to escalate a manageable mess into a full blown YouTube moment.
The Police also deserve a big nod, as they ensnared the fans on the field without incident.
The lesson was: You've got to be firm and vigorous, but not aggressive.
I shadowed the next game at a gate. I've worked at gates countless times, taking tickets at Gillette and BC. I've heard those little scanners PING so many times I feel like the overworked, burnt out sonar operator of a submarine.
But supervising at a gate was still very new. It's not rocket science, but there's a lot of detail and nuance to it. Retrieving the scanners, gathering the required wristbands, mustering your staff, ensuring they all have meal-tickets/water/ponchos, briefing them, testing the scanners, deploying the staff, arranging the signage, setting-up the tables, unlocking the gates, distributing the scanners. Et cetera.
Then the gate officially opens and you have to support your staff. Give answers to the obscure questions that will invariably be asked of them. Stand by them when they tell someone that their umbrella isn't allowed into the Stadium. Tell guests that purses are indeed bags and need to be checked. Adjust and possibly repair the scanners.
It's weird. I've rarely had to keep my eyes and ears so wide open. Because I've never had staff before. So needing to be attentive was something new to me. And while I enjoyed it at this moderate Revolution game, I can't yet fathom how much more amplified all these tasks are for a Patriots game, where 45,000 people try to enter the Stadium in 30 minutes. It sounds challenging. I've been liking challenges lately.
After breaking off the gate, I did the roam team shadowing thing again. This was a much more typical event. The New York Red Bulls were in town, but fortunately, their wannabe-hooligan-firms were not. The US National Team was playing in Philly that afternoon, and the jerks from Jersey went down that way instead of up to Foxboro. So there was no repeat of the Boston Pepper Party.
There was one semi-incident that taught me a good lesson. A woman complained to an usher that some kids behind her were frequently and loudly swearing. The usher informed his supervisor, who summoned us over. The problem was that the woman didn't point out which fans were swearing, just that they were "around rows 5, 6 and 7." Then the woman went on her way along the concourse, disappearing.
So only the usher could identify the woman, and only the woman could identify the offending parties. I realized all this about halfway down the aisle into the section. And as I concluded that I had no idea who I was looking for, I decided to keep going.
In the past, I've been especially hesitant and uncertain when I don't have sufficient information. This would, at times, infuriate my old team's supervisor. Sometimes you just have to go in without knowing every available bit of information, and it took me some time to learn then implement that lesson.
But I honestly had no plan as to what to do or say once I got to the area around rows 5 thru 7. I arrived, and a couple fans looked at me and the usher. And like a substitute teacher I asked "Who down here's been swearing?"
And of course nobody answered.
I broke the silence. "Well, it'd better stop."
In retrospect, I should have gone down the aisle slowly, loitered a bit above row 7, hoping to catch the profanity myself, then talk to the ones spouting it. If instead, nobody sore, I could drop to the bottom of the aisle, give the old look-over of the entire section, remind people that we exist, then be on my way.
The lesson I learned there was that sometimes there is no perfect solution to an issue. Frequently, circumstances will conspire to prevent achieving that 100% satisfactory resolution. Recognizing this is key, and must be followed by an adaptation in approach in order to achieve as decent a result as possible. That's a fancy way of saying, sometimes you've got to compromise with reality, do the best you can, and understand your limitations.
Do what Pringles did, when they ordered rubber but got potatoes. They filled their tubes with chips instead of tennis balls.
mitch hedberg on pringles - Watch more Funny Videos
As much as I've learned in 290 events, there's still a great deal of education left for me. My last Episode was about how far I've come as an individual, both in my job at Gillette Stadium, and outside of it. But that individualistic focus is merely the beginning. I now have to refocus toward a collective and cooperative approach.
When supervising, I'm responsible for my staff, and they're responsible for me. There's no militaristic rank structure, no salutes. I'll giggle if one of my staff ever calls me "sir." There's no division between supervisor and staff, at least there shouldn't be.
I feel that a major aspect of being a good supervisor will be changing my attitude from a "me," to a "we," kind of perspective. Shadowing at the gates, and running a roam team was like being the quarterback, which means I was dependent on those around me, and they were dependent on me. I may have called most of the plays, and gotten the snap, but WE did things well, and WE made occasional mistakes, and WE will learn from them.
Now imagine that there are multiple quarterbacks, with multiple sets of receivers, rushers, and blockers. And all these groups are trying to work together for the same purpose. That's something more than teamwork, that's a coalition or alliance. Each undertaking separate specific tasks, but frequently overlapping and (ideally) cooperating.
You can peruse history and see a multitude of failed and successful alliances.
In World War I, for instance, the Germans, Austrians, and Turks never coordinated. They hardly communicated. Germany tried to dominate the alliance and get Austria to fight the Russians. But Austria wanted to fight the Serbs.
Meanwhile, the French and British had some strife in their alliance, but they eventually smoothed things out. They coordinated attack and defense, shared resources and ideas, and had a clear joint objective.
Alright, I know, it's not war at Gillette Stadium. But it's still a massive task to pull off a Full Stadium Event. To have 70,000 assemble, park, congregate, enter a Stadium, enjoy a show/game, leave safely, have a good night; is an epic achievement. And it takes a lot of people working TOGETHER to pull it off.
Being a part of this larger machinery is quite intriguing. And I'm loving what I'm learning about myself, about others, about how people function together. It's been quite fascinating so far.
Next Episode (coming very soon): I actually supervise on my own
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