Press box horror stories

I was actually there that day. In the old stadium, fans in the last row could and did stand in front of the press box to block your view and interact via shouts and gestures. They were a pain in the ass for everybody. Whitlock shouldn't have been so juvenile, but I understand the provocation. Before the new stadium and the imposition of law and order. Pats' crowds were rabble avoided by all thinking persons.

 

Not exactly a horror story, but interesting nonetheless.
At the Spectrum in Philly, people could walk up through the stands to the front row of the press box. One guy knew where the visiting writers sat. He approached with a notebook and opened it to where he had agate summaries from hockey games pasted in that he had cut from the newspaper.
He asked me if I was from L.A. I said yes. He showed me the summaries which had all the fighting penalties highlighted.
He said, "Do you remember that game?"
"Yes."
"Who won the fight?"
He'd have a half-dozen and all he wanted to know was who won the fight.

 

It's that way at Lincoln Financial Field as well. The fans are right in front of you and they do things like cover up the glass so we can't see and all all other kinds of lovely things.

 

I was in a pressbox on night when a guy had a stroke and nearly died. Didn't even know about it till the next morning. I still can't figure out the timing. I think I must have been walking out around the time someone noticed the guy had slumped over his laptop.

 

The Alabama Sports Writers Association's highest award, the Herby Kirby, is named for a Birmingham sports writer who had a heart attack and died while covering the 1975 Sugar Bowl between Alabama and Penn State.

 

I worked with a guy whose life was saved when someone gave him CPR following a heart attack in the press box.

 

Agree with the earlier posts saying that moving someone's stuff is a no-no. Once had a co-worker -- a co-worker, mind you -- move my stuff when I stepped away for a minute, because it was HIS beat, and therefore HIS seat. (Seats weren't earmarked for specific people, just the publication.) Didn't bother to ask, and didn't bother to apologize. Didn't say a word, in fact.

 

Two more quick things here:
1. From now on, if I have to, I'll scrawl something on a piece of paper over my laptop, "DON'T MOVE."
2. And the ultimate press box horror story -- what happened to Tom Borrelli in Buffalo.

 

Well, shit, that ain't the Purdue fan's fault, is it? That's the SID.

 

The only genuine horror I encountered was when I almost fell entirely through the floor of a Div. I college softball press box. The wooden floor was rotten and my whole leg went straight through when I stepped on one of the worst parts of the floor. I did not get hurt, so missed out on suing their ass. Floor was replaced the next day.

 

A lesser man would have sued anyway.

 

Not really a horror story, but ... New Haven Coliseum, 1989 Calder Cup playoffs. Press row was the first few rows of the upper deck. Beer bottle sailed over our heads into the lower bowl.

Last year, covering college basketball game at Madison Square Garden. Corner press area in lower, bowl, sparsely populated. Two well-oiled alums sit in vacant row in front of us, beers in hand. Then two well-oiled co-eds camp out, ask old farts to take their picture with court in background.

The girls were asked to leave; old guys hung around for awhile, then left.