Thump, thump, thump! “Come on someone let me in!”  The breakaway door of the University of Washington Husky's sports pavilion sprung open. “Thanks Carl”, I said to the maintenance man that had heard my pounding and let me in.  “Hey Joe ... another game tonight ... we gonna see a smart bomb and some stealin' wit dat Jason Kidd tonight ... kawamm right to da hoop  ... smart bomb – ya know how like da ones theys had in that Desert Storm.”  “Yeah Carl, I gotcha.” 

I was a radio engineer in Seattle and I was setting up a remote broadcast for a basketball game between Washington and California men's college teams. I brought with me two gig bags filled with the necessities for this remote broadcast.  I set up in the usual spot near half court on the long tables for the media. A procedure I could do in my sleep: hooking up the rock-solid shure field mixer, the headset/microphone for the announcer and headset for the statistician and of course one for me, a headset mixer, IFB (talk-back communication to hear the cues from the station's board operator), center ambient microphone, cables-cables-cables, and the piece-de-resistance, two wireless lavalier microphones positioned on the underside of each backboard for those hoop-swish-clang sounds. All this piped into a balanced telco line for our mixed broadcast back to the studio.

The ladder was in its normal place underneath the far bleachers where I left it two days prior. Carting the ladder across court, I ran into the media coordinator who stopped and warned me that they were removing the tables and pulling aside cables after the game for a special sporting event and asked that I label my lines so they didn't get mixed up in the shuffle.  “No problem”, I assured him.  Halfway up the ladder a guy from the cable tv crew asked me if he could piggy-back off of my hoop microphones so that it would save him some time in his set up.  I told him yes and offered a spare mixer I brought with me to submix a “hoop only” feed for him.  He thanked me and scurried off to the media lunch room where free sandwiches awaited hungry crews.  A student body staff member was now at the foot of my ladder asking if she could borrow it for a minute to put up a banner.  I still had the other hoop to deal with and “air time” was getting closer, but I reluctantly let her have it - a sucker for a pretty girl.   The girl returned tardy without the ladder saying, “would you mind bringing it back, it's over there on the far end, it's really heavy you know”.  I said, “I know!”  I had just finished taping the second hoop mic in place when Carl stopped by again and said, “Do you have any of those key chains from the radio station you were giving out last week?”  “I'll have to check, Carl.”  Carl added, “Ya know Joe, you said you was gonna bring some down since I didn't get none ... are you sure you don't have one ... and how about doze stickers ... ya got any stickers?”  “I don't know but I'll check after I get set up.”  “We gonna see a smart bomb when Kidd hits dat hoop Joe ... ya got that thing taped up good?”.  “Yeah, Carl, real good”. “Dats good ... a damn smart bomb ... ya gonna remember that key chain, Joe?”  “Yes, Carl, I'll get ya hooked up.” Carl walked off.

Today as I watch operation “Iraqi Freedom”, I marvel at its gigantic scope. How do they get all of this live coverage from the middle of the desert, tanks rolling, full video with sound and it works, somehow?  Non-stop coverage of every maneuver is feeding us and being that we are Americans, we overeat.  Indulging in technology because it's possible. The remote broadcaster’s dream gig, the war!  The ultimate live broadcast! I can accept the flaws, the blips and garbles because it is “live”, unlike slickly produced Hollywood movies. There is no take 2 or take 43.  Reality television big-time! It is real... and scary... and no hokey tribal council! The coverage is relentless with detail ad nauseam. Authorized broadcasting with the new “embedded” journalist and crews  - unfortunately those who have chosen to “un-embed” have suffered grave consequences. The logistics must be mountainous. A twenty-four hour mobile convoy halfway around the world with dust swirling and worming its way into every orifice of equipment and human alike.  Chemical and gas-proofing materials; a necessity that must be an obstacle to buttons, knobs and switches. Traditional broadcast equipment working in harmony with newer digital technologies. Kinks always arise in the field and that's where the engineers shine. Improvising and sometimes regressing to older more proven equipment.  I saw Ted Koppel using a “classic” remote broadcasting microphone from yesteryear. The Coles 4104 “lip microphone” (named lip because you place your upper lip directly on the top plate of the microphone) which still holds up, even in todays high standards. It rejects background noises (e.g., sand storms) better than most current microphones nearly eliminating wind noise and pops, and leaves you just the voice of the commentator. Probably not bomb proof though.

So much of this content is available on the internet. Web-logs (blogs for short) on the war  called warblogs, include private and collaborative thoughts on the conflict. Streaming video has gotten much better in the last couple years but still freezes at times while the audio portion continues.  A video technologist must choose custom encoding settings that maintain audio integrity above that of video. It's still more important that we hear what someone is saying rather than see them saying it.

Most of this broadcasted video is unnecessary.  Talking heads amongst the blowing sand.  Yes, we see the tanks and military men and women doing their jobs, and reminders of the ugly side of war. However the story can be told as clearly via radio; but to quote a line from the Oscar winning Chicago, “give em' the old razzle dazzle”.  I guess radio isn't coming back in vogue any time soon.  It's hard to pry folks away from the tube.  It certainly would be a lot easier eliminating the video. The load would be lighter. A few satellite field phones, some streaming audio and okay, I'll throw in a digital camera, something small that can be carried with one hand.  There would be no big cameras to haul, no sync problems between video and audio, just the story, unaffected by visuals.  What? No techni-video shots of tanks! No guns, tomahawks, patriots, F-14, 15, 18, and F-117, B-1, 2, and B-52 , Bingo!  No apache helicopters, aircraft carriers, rolling seas and shifting deserts, green night-vision, khaki camouflage, bombs bursting-in-air, fires spiraling up to the sky and a bird’s-eye view of it all. The visuals to me are mostly “filler” standing in for story.  In news radio all you have is sound: the voice. The pictures lie in the inflections, resonance, and tone of the journalist.  I go nuts over CBS Radio's Christopher Glenn who is a real pro.  I could listen to him reading the phone book. A picture may paint a thousand words, but I'll take 200 words carefully constructed and read by a Mr.Glenn every time.

Myriad people are involved to get this non-stop war programming into our homes. The pancaked reporter is usually the only person we see. How about the remote camera and sound people, transmission and tape operators, logistics and translators, maintenance and chief engineers, writers, producers, directors and many more. Like a duck on a pond moving calmly ... underneath the water his webbed feet are frantically churning away propelling him forward ... like the unseen people ... propellers moving their star mallards. 

It can be an adrenaline rush in the field.  And sometimes while watching or reading the latest news I wish for a moment that I was there, in the thick of things, but then I see that endless sand and think of the tedious hours, the exploding skies and the dangers all-too-real. It was much easier to stay stateside and work the college basketball circuit where my worst worry was a stray basketball to the head and even that was quelled by the interesting and eccentric people I came across almost ten years ago.

Ten years ago...

After the game, Carl reminded me again to “bring doze key chains and stickers.”

The Huskies lost to California.

Jason Kidd played basketball for the University of California and was a budding new talent who would eventually become one of the biggest stars in the NBA on the New Jersey Nets.

Desert Storm was a recent memory.

Ten years ago the Seattle rain spilled down on me after exiting the pavilion on the way to my car.  There was no forecast for swirling sand ... or smart bombs.

©2003 Joseph Beachy

For other articles in this series by Joe Beachy, check the Archives.

Joe Beachy is a former circus radio engineer and wearer of forty three hats, who is currently residing in tinsel town.

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