Taylor Swift and Justin Bieber came to Gillette. It was my first event supervising on my own. But of course, as I discussed in the last Episode, you're never alone. At least you shouldn't be.
I was designated Romeo-9 (response team #9), and would start out at the East Gate, then move up to the east side of the 300 level. For a normal concert, the cheap seats can get a tad harry. But this was not a normal concert. Normal concerts don't have large pick-up/drop-off areas for parents to collect their kids.
I was thankful for this irregularity. I felt it was a good way to grace into the whole supervising routine, with a crowd that would, for the most part, be sober. Then again, I've heard stories of full-blown fist-fights breaking out at an Alicia Keys show. And the possibility of two 13 year old guys slapping each other over a 14 year old girl did enter my mind before the concert. Especially since it'd be humiliating to get my ass whooped by some junior high sprat on my first day running a roam team.
I was more thankful to have a reliable and assertive female with us, because EVERYTHING we dealt with involved females. I'd estimate that 85 to 90 percent of the crowd were females. And most of the males were dads, apart from two jacked frat looking dudes that entered through our gate, and they stood out like blood on a wedding dress.
The whole supervisors routine was still not routine for me. We have our meeting in this auditorium, where I'm told the Patriots hold their postgame press conferences. I guess that's kind of cool. Before the meeting, all 4 and a half feet of Justin Bieber walked by. Not nearly as cool. During the briefing, it was vividly stressed that this would be a "HANDS OFF" event.
Now it's not like we roam around cracking skulls at other concerts or Pats games. But considering that most people in attendance wouldn't even have their learner's permits, it was heavily emphasized that we'd be extra careful with how we handled situations. We wouldn't HANDle them at all. We'd manage them. And if there were a female involved, we'd womanage them.
After the briefing, Taylor Swift walked by us. That's slightly cooler, but she's not my type. Sorry, hun. Bulk up, eat some Spaghettios.
After mustering my staff together, we took a walk up to the 300s before heading to the gate. My God that is a long trek. The ramp we took is 1,400 feet (a tad more than 1/4 mile) in length. And the grade is somewhere between 7 and 10%, at least that's what I'd estimate. It seems steeper the higher you get.
Meanwhile, I'm dragged down by a pair of pants that weighs around 20 pounds. I had 2 flashlights (one makes a harsh ultra-bright spot, the other is a broader and gentler light, and I wanted two in case someone on the team forgot theirs), my cel phone, my radio, my keys, ponchos for everyone (rain had been forecast, though all the storms would skirt around the Stadium), earplugs for everyone, my paperwork, contact lens moisturizer, contact lens case, 2 handwipes, chapstick, 3 small packs of gum, 2 pads of paper, and 3 pens.
That doesn't sound like much, but it adds up, especially in June, and especially hiking 1,400 feet to the Stadium summit. I felt like those cops on Flashpoint who carry a thousand different things in their overstuffed pants and jackets.
I even had a utility belt that toted my radio, my flashlight holster, and a cell phone caddy. I wasn't trying to look overly coplike or militant, it was just the best way to haul so much stuff around, but also keep it accessible.
Bart's New Belt
The Simpsons | MySpace Video
After that, we went down to the East Gate, which would be where a lot of the floor tickets passed through. The gate was set-up differently from normal, but was actually quite sensible. Bicycle fencing created a corral around the gate, and three tables were arranged inside for bag checks. It took some thinking over to realize how it'd work, but it all went according to plan.
There was a girl a few yards from the gate who requested first aid. Then some floozies wanted to know where to pick up their StubHub tickets. They then wanted an escort across Route 1 from me or one of the males on my team. Not much else happened. We went inside, took our break, then headed up to the 300s.
By this time, Justin Bieber was on stage. Or so I was told. His voice was an octave higher than the squeeling masses of tweenage fans who now filled Gillette Stadium to the brim.
And a tall brim it is. I don't have acrophobia. Heights have never bothered me much. Looking down from the top of a skyscraper doesn't bug me. But turning my back on that height does. I have no idea why that is. I guess because I want to know precisely where the edge is. But all and all, being up high in the 300s was no big deal. It was nice being so far above the speaker banks that I didn't need earplugs.
There were some minor, unremarkable incidents. Then a woman complained about the drunk girls in the seats behind her.
Don't stand out in a crowd. That's the best way to prevent being ejected from a game/show. Have a few drinks if you'd like, but don't get obnoxious and loud when you're drinking at a Taylor Swift show. As we accompanied the two girls out of their seats, other fans from adjacent aisles thanked us. And that's a reaffirming feeling. We usually enjoy torrents of slurred abuse when we evict someone.
We uneventfully had alcohol shutdown a few minutes after Taylor Swift took the stage. There was nobody in line for beer, so nobody to complain, or beg to be bestowed that one last drink.
After the 5th or 6th song of her set, Taylor Swift emerged at the top of one of the 100-level sections. She sang and strolled her way down the aisle, then stepped onto the floor. A few of our teams participated in the stunt, making sure the aisle was clear in front of her, and so on. As I looked down from my perch in the 300s, I thought to myself "That used to be me. The team I was once a part of gets assignments like that." Assignments like hanging out with Tom Cruise.
Meanwhile, up in the 300s, it was a by the book, no frills, no thrills kind of night for Romeo-9. No escort of Taylor Swift. No VIPs to look after. No cheerleaders to guide (yes, that happened to us before). No going on the field at the end of a hotly contested international soccer match to walk with the referees.
But that's the deal, isn't it? I equate it to being an offensive coordinator for the Patriots, then taking a job as the head coach of some mediocre college program. Yeah, you're calling the shots and running your own show, but you have to give up a little bit of the "glamor." You'll be the #1 guy in the spotlight, but the spotlight will be dimmer.
Throughout the concert, I strove to balance my own self-centered sense of personal responsibility, along with the fact that I can't do everything alone. At one point, a member of our team reminded me "There's no 'I' in roam team."
"There's an 'I' in Zeitz, though," I quipped, like a smartass.
And I'd say I did a good job of delegating responsibility, but also taking control of situations. Having good, trustworthy staff was the key to that. When I can ask someone to go do something and know it'll get done, it makes it easier for me to stay focused on what I'm doing.
Coordinating with the ushers also went smoothly. After the show we did the sweep of the 300 level, ensuring that only employees remained. The usher supervisors provided staff to check the ramps and stairs, and we swept the 300s with remarkable speed.
On the way down the ramp, three separate parties of people halted our snappy sweep. Two groups were waiting for friends/family to come out of the suites. Another group was trying to return their mother's Stadium ID to her up in the 300s.
And this was the last time I'll try to find that 100% utterly perfect solution to a problem. I waited 5 minutes, as all three groups said the person they wanted to meet was "Coming right now."
And of course none of them were coming to meet any of these people. It finally dawned on me to tell the suite people to meet up with their buddies outside the Stadium. I didn't know where to tell the kids with the ID to go. I tried calling it in on the radio, but my mind had been toasted to a crisp by that point:
"I have two kids, ramp, mother, ID, card, employee, where should they meet?"
I'm not kidding. It was a jumble of words pertaining to the situation, but completely out of order and lacking any coherence. I got a good lesson in teamwork as my radio girl called in a more intelligible description of the situation. Then the two kids started walking out so the problem solved itself.
We got to the bottom of the ramp and I released my staff, thanking them for a job well done. That's a nice treat for me that I've enjoyed, being able to thank people for helping me out.
A few minutes later, my former team arrived, completing their sweep. Not only did they get to staff Taylor Swift's walk through the crowd, they met her Dad, and they had the impeccably beautiful Ayla Brown dancing in the aisles of their section.
That would have been fun to write about. But I had a different kind of fun. And that's how it's been so far. Being a supervisor hasn't been better or worse than what I was doing before. It's been different. Of course, it seems better when paychecks are issued.
Next Episode: I supervise a typical concert and an atypical soccer game.
No comments:
Post a Comment