On public address etiquette

In the ‘A trip to the alma mater’ post, I made reference to an incident that took place at Carver Gym a couple years ago that made me swear off the place for a while. I said it wasn’t a story that needed to be told here, but for whatever reason I’ve changed my mind. This is only tangentially related to volleyball, but hopefully it’ll give you a glimpse into my mindset a little.

It was the first time I had ever been back since hanging up my mic as PA announcer. So, I was naturally curious what the person who replaced me would be like. I have mentioned that I left the post in large measure because I believed it should be filled by a student. Athletics did not honor that wish (not that they were under any kind of obligation to do so, but still), and my replacement was a local radio DJ.

Right away I was pretty blown away at how differently we did the job. I always tried to be declarative, informative, and enthusiastic for the home side without denigrating the opposition. This guy took ‘enthusiastic’ and ratcheted it up to 11. He was making stupid jokes during the timeouts, hooting and hollering far too loudly into the mic, and where I would make an effort to call every point of the match, he actually seldom called any points. For instance, I would say “Kill for Jane Smith, point to the Bobcats.” He almost never said anything like that. Only if it was for the home team and only if it was a particularly emphatic point. He spent all his energies being a goof; he had nothing left for the actual game. Whereas I tried to be part of the show without trying to be part of the show (if that makes any sense at all — people didn’t pay admission to hear me talk, they did it to see some volleyball), this guy was trying to make himself a star.

Case in point — this goofball exuberantly celebrated things that were ultimately pretty mundane. When our girls won the league title on home court my third year doing the job, I did what any good announcer should do when something truly exciting happens — make a quick, energetic call, and then get out of the way. Let the crowd (and god forbid, the athletes) enjoy the moment without you stepping all over it.

But to a point, neither of us is wrong. It’s just two (wildly) different ways of doing the job. I got lots of compliments from spectators about my work, and I’m sure he’s gotten compliments likewise. The people seemed to eat it up, so I was all prepared to just chalk it up to different strokes.

Until the last point of the match that night.

Our girls won comfortably, in a three-set sweep. On the last point of the match, one of the opposing players was badly injured. The ball fell for the final point and our team won right as the opposing player fell to the ground, grabbed her knee and started screaming in pain. Everyone in the gym collectively sucked all the air out of it as we stood by nervously and watched the trainers attend to her.

And it was SO awkward for a few moments, because the match was over. It wasn’t like we were waiting for the trainers to drag her to the sidelines and play to resume. So I can appreciate that the PA announcer was caught off guard at first. I would have been, too, most likely. It’s not a situation you prepare for.

But you know what he did? While the girl was still on the ground in agony, he put his goofy ass back on the mic and tried to whip the crowd up into a frenzy while the pep band started playing to get everyone to celebrate. While. The. Girl. Was. Still. On. The. Ground.

Am I being oversensitive, or is that just crass as hell?

I left thinking we were lucky the opponent that night was the fairly inert Montana State school and not our archrivals Central Washington. If that had happened with a Central player lying on the ground, you can bet there would have been some slashed tires in the parking lot.

Like I said, I would have been caught off guard a little, too. But after it became obvious that the girl wasn’t going to get up right away, I would have got on the mic to recap the final score and say something like “Thanks for coming to tonight’s match everybody, please drive home safely.” You know, something to tell the people You don’t just have to stand here and watch this poor girl suffer. Celebrating like nothing happened when something did happen, ugh, I just don’t think that’s okay. I guess it sucks to be deprived of a home celebration, but you know what sucks more? Having your knee blow up (or a friend’s).

Now, to his credit, the PA announcer (same guy was there last night) has toned down the goofiness a bit. But it’s still in diametric opposition to how I did the job. And I think I may have permanently lost respect for him for celebrating while someone was hurt. You just don’t do that.

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