Before I say anything about the Olympic media worker, I would like to note that I wrote my last wall post yesterday on the 13th and entitled it "Poseidon!" Today, I googled 'Poseidon Phelps' to see if my blog would register. What I found was an interesting article written by Linda Robertson that you can see by clicking here. I don't even know if she's seen my blog, but references to Kobe and LeBron and the dubbing of Phelps as Poseidon only a day after I did the same is a ridiculous coincidence. Either way, I think it's cool. Linda, if by chance you did read this, just give me a shout at the private message in my user profile. I'm merely a lowly blogger churning away at my bloggery. I'd be stoked to learn that somebody liked the angle enough to actually write professionally with it. Now I return to my bloggery.
By my purely experience-based estimate, there are probably 50 Olympic media workers for each olympic athlete, and every one of them is an embattled soul. They toil in anonymity in order to bring the greatest sport spectacles to life for millions around the world. The different varieties of Olympic media workers come in all shapes, sizes and colors, but despite these differences, their only arguments are territorial. Example: The most discontented breed of media worker in these games (per my experience) is the photographer. Photographers complain that each olympic venue has become so geared toward TV that the venues have illogically denied print photographers access to the best shooting positions. The complaint is totally valid. The Rights Holding Broadcasters that have reserved video platforms couldn't care less if a photographer shoots from it when they're not there. The policy of keeping all photographers to specifically designated areas takes away the photographers creativity and essentially turns a photographers living into a lottery drawing. Whichever photo hits the AP (Associated Press) first makes the shooter a rich man. Liaising (which is what a liaison officer does) with photographers can be especially frustrating because they're always complaining about how they're getting screwed by "the man". You can recognize a photographer by his baggy beige jacket and disgruntled countenance.
Video cameramen come in two flavors, awesome and desperate. If they've been totally hooked up by the broadcaster they work for, they're all jokes happiness. NBC cameramen are always stoked to be there. They have the best spots reserved, so all they do is chill and watch the games for all of the US to see. A complaint from an NBC cameraman is about as likely as Michael Phelps not medaling. The benefits of having your company spend over a billion dollars on the games. The relatively smaller companies like Televista or any one of the Japanese Consortium resort to guerilla coverage. You'll find them hinding behind platforms or setting up a position in the crowd. These cameramen weren't born with the silverspoon, and they'll do whatever it takes to bust out of the broadcaster's ghetto (the ghetto is comprised of unbooked platform positions, the press conference room and every single place where a camera is not allowed).
Broadcast talent are the quarterbacks. Their "work" is considered fun or relaxing. Any difficulty that the job actually has, like the years of paying dues and doing crap-work to get your face in front of the camera, are ignored by all. The talent is in most cases a fitting name. They have their jobs for being born with Apolian looks and caramel voices. No work could possibly have gone into being good at their jobs because all they do is talk and smile. The talent recieves the money and the glory while the offensive line continues to pave the way for the talent without thanks. Reality: every single commentator I've met has struck me as a genuinely nice person, and when they're not talking in front of the camera, they're pouring over facts and information so they can sound like they're not trying. I've been thoroughly impressed with their abilities and dedication. They really are like quarterbacks.
Originally, I planned on mentioning more positions in less detail, but like John Lennon said, life happened instead. Besides, there are honestly too many cogs to mention. The entire broadcast machine works like a giant puzzle. Try to think of all the factions; security, technicians, cameramen, writers, photographers, directors, producers, grips, loggers, runners, venue management, press attache, and a host of other positions make your nightly date with the biggest and most-watched event in the history of the world a reality. Take out a piece, and the puzzle is incomplete. Honestly, maybe more staggering than the athletic feats of the athletes is the venues and workforce that have been established for three weeks of competition and broadcasting. When you're actually here inside the machine instead of looking at its outer, working exterior, the fact that it functions is so much more incomprehensible. I know I didn't throw out enough credit in the over-drawn descriptions, so I'll do it now. The workers that bring your Olympics to you are are the best at their respective positions and deserve an applause equal to the athletes they cover.