Day 2 - Is This For Real?

You know this is not an ordinary day in Journalist-land when your working environment includes:

A cross-dressing Telemundo reporter
Two ballroom dancers
The highly camp Ross The Intern (from the Jay Leno show)
Some guy with a violin
A lightly-dressed (female) Telemundo reporter
An AMC News correspondent (as in American Movie Classics)
Los Angeles DJ Vic 'The Brick' Jacobs in a Davy Crockett hat (in near-80-degree temperatures)
And a 10-year-old girl with a microphone that most players have to stoop to talk to

Yes, it is the annual absurdity and anything-goes attitude of Media Day at a Super Bowl - a ritual that is in danger of becoming a parody of itself in the eyes of many.

Fortunately, the day finished in rather more memorable style with a concert by .38 Special at the Cuba Club in Ybor City (from which my ears are still ringing in the style of the 'Beep! Beep! Beep!' noise you get from a reversing truck).

To start with, just to gain access to this journalistic farrago, it is necessary to join one of a squadron of white buses that move en masse across the city of Tampa from the Convention (Media) Center to Raymond James Stadium. Our bus had all of six reporters on, which might, you felt, have been a slight environmental faux pas (mind you, on the way back, it was packed to the gun'nels, so the balance was slightly redressed).

Then there is Security (definitely with a capital 'S' these days). While our bags are put in a screened off area to be sniffed by a very wag-tailed black labrador (presumably for explosives, as it's hard to imagine anyone bringing food to the mid-morning all-you-can-eat buffet - "A cream-cheese bagel, sir? I'm sorry we can't be having you bringing in anything as offensive as that"), a long stream of this multi-faceted media troops desultorily through the electric scanners (after a fairly desultory personal pat-down from a less-than-enthusiastic screener). Needless to say, none of my heavy belt buckle, watch or copper wristband set off the scanner at all.

Once we are deemed 'safe' to enter the 'green' area within, it is off to the inner concourse of the stadium to await the appointed hour of 10am when the Arizona Cardinals will be available to all the 4,000 or so members of the media corps (cross-dressers included).

It's time - and the rush commences, down the stairs to the side of the field, where various podiums are set up for the 'name' stars of each team while the majority are left to wander the increasingly hectic throng by themselves (some of the Steelers later found a better idea, sitting in small groups in the lower bleachers and calling out wise-cracks to their team-mates in the interview spotlight below).

Now it soon becomes clear that 4,000 into Sideline Space won't go. At least not without a fair bit of pushing and shoving, standing still, inching sideways, tripping over a gazillion cables and gawking at the aformentioned 'oddballs' in the gathering (which included Telemundo reporter Joel Bengoa in a bright red sundress, for reasons known only to himself and, presumably, every Telemundo viewer tonight; 10-year-old Shelby Fallin of Scholastic News; Entertainment Tonight dancer Renee Sapp, playing host in a bizarre 'dance' competition; and the almost-dressed Mireya Grisales, also of Telemundo. What, the Hooters girls were busy?).

The challenge here is to maneuver from one end to the other in the allotted 60 minutes AND try to get in a meaningful question or two. It requires patience, cunning, wit - and an ability to elbow the person next to you in the solar plexus so you can get your question in first. In fact, telepathy is essential here; you need to know the exact split second a player finishes his answer to the previous question so you can launch into yours. Any hesitation is fatal and leaves you fumbling helplessly for words (and, occasionally, teeth).

More than anything, it's a chance to gauge the mood of the protagonists. No Super Bowl was ever won on Media Day, but you can gain some interesting insight into the various mind-sets (notably from three years ago, when the Steelers seemed far more assured than the Seahawks, and that carried over on to the field). It's relevant here this year with Pittsburgh being the 'veteran' Super Bowl team and Arizona the relative novices.

So, some quick notes on the vibes being issued this year (Arizona first) - Edgerrin James looking like he was born for the spotlight here; Karlos Dansby far more earnest and thoughtful; Adrian Wilson doing his best uber-cool Deion Sanders persona; Anquan Boldin laughing and joking it all up; and, at the center of the biggest media scrimmage, Kurt Warner, the 37-year-old who's best days looked to be firmly in the rear-view mirror until this extraordinary season, happily fielding questions on just about every subject under the sun, and with the various journos having to shout their questions in machine-gun style in a bid to be heard.

Then the Steelers - big Ben Roethlisberger the ultimate laid-back dude, letting it all flow over him; defensive kingpins James Harrison, LaMarr Woodley, James Farrior and Troy Polamalu relaxed (and menacing); Hines Ward doing what Hines Ward does best off the field, laugh and joke (and insist he WILL play on Sunday); and head coach Mike Tomlin drawing the biggest media crowd for a more serious discussion, every question carefully considered and given firm, positive response. It is hard to imagine this man overlooking a thing as his driven, sharply-focused nature shines through with laser-beam intensity. Arizona's Ken Whisenhunt is an admirable coach, but I'm glad I'm not going up against Tomlin and his coaching staff - you'd feel naked by the end of it, I imagine.

Thankfully, the two hours (interspersed by the buffet free-for-all) pass quickly and without any real incident. Certainly, there are no signs of anything vaguely aporximating a 'story.' Both teams are complimentary about each other; no, the Steelers don't feel the Cards are underdogs; yes, say Arizona, Pittsburgh deserve to be favorites. All calm, polite, considered stuff, and utterly anodyne.

The evening party in Ybor City is a free-for-all of a different variety, with free food and drink spread out over two floors inside and the massive courtyard outside. Salsa dancers, cigar-rollers (and free cigars for those who indulge in the practice of stinking up the planet with their noxious fumes), a 10-piece Cuban band and a manic DJ are all part of the festivities.

And the outdoor party is highlighted by a 90-minute set from perennial rockers .38 Special with their 80s sound that includes everyone from Lynyrd Skynryd to Kansas, via Boston, Molly Hatchet and many others. Great fun and hugely enjoyable.

The long drive back to Orlando passes without incident and there is just time to pen the day's blog (at 1am) before setting the alarm ready for another day of interview fun and frolics at the two team hotels on the morrow.

Toodle pip........!