What About the Camera Crew, People?
It appears thatpeople
about Monday night’s game between the Cubs and the Astros. Upset that the game wasn’t stopped because of the weather. And I see that they’re upset because the players were in danger from the lightning. This, I suppose, is a valid concern. But I’m here to speak for those who have been left unspoken for.
I don’t care about the ballplayers. I don’t care about the fans. I care about the men and women behind the cameras. You don’t see them, but you see their work. They’re the reason that you get to see the game. And when you saw Lance Berkman running into the dugout to remove his metal necklace from about his neck while lightning was bursting about Wrigley Field, there was someone standing behind a camera, probably in a wet puddle, and soaking wet, getting you that video. And when Lance Berkman jumped in fear and ran from the field, there were camera people standing behind their cameras, feet in puddles of water and surrounded by metal, who stayed at their positions to get you video while the players and umpires were safely in the clubhouses.
But nobody cares about those camera people. They’re nonexistent. The Chron’s not asking them about whether they felt their lives were in danger. And the people commenting at the Chron don’t even seem to care.
I don’t know the people who were working the game in Chicago. But I know the people who work the games in Houston, and by extension, work the games at Rice Stadium and Robertson Field and Kyle Field and The Ballpark at Arlington, and it’s not the safety of the players I think about when these storms come into play, it’s the people who are making it possible for those of us at home to see the games that I’m thinking about. Because they’re the ones who are at risk, often more so than the players.
Whine all that you want about the conditions on Monday, and about the supposed threats to the life of Lance Berkman and his fellow players, but remember, if not for the courage of those behind the cameras, you would not have seen any of this.
So the next time you’re amazed by those shots of lightning flashing around the ballpark, how about giving a little thought to the person risking his or her life to get you that shot, especially since that person’s job is to actually get a shot Carlos Lee loafing after a ball hit down the left field line? And trust me on this, they don’t make anywhere near as much money as those ballplayers you’re so concerned about. – John Royal
Get the This Week's Top Stories Newsletter
Every week we collect the latest news, music and arts stories — along with film and food reviews and the best things to do this week — so that you’ll never miss Houston Press' biggest stories.