I’m pretty sure you had many great ideas floating around
in your head when you were young.
Ideas you thought were golden, brilliant and extraordinary. Yet,
when explaining the ideas to your parents, you were usually greeted
with the polite head nod and the quip response, “That’s
great champ.”
Well I had many “champs” thrown my way growing up,
but to defend the beleaguered parents who patronized me, I’ll
probably do the same when my annoying kids spit out idiotic
ideas.
Anyhow, I think one of my brilliant ideas as a youngster would
be a perfect solution to solve one of the growing epidemics in
sports around the world today: the fan who wants to get closer to
the action but gets a little too close.
Now, I have nothing against fans wanting more bang for their
buck. If they’re shelling out two bills to sit 500 feet away
from where the action is taking place, they have a point. But in
the post-Sept. 11, 2001 world, everything is looked upon with a new
perspective and probably rightly so. When a fan runs onto the field
nowadays, people are worried that dynamite might be strapped to the
fan’s chest or that the fan might be concealing a dangerous
weapon. The Department of Homeland Security has yet to find a way
to keep fans in the stands. By the way, today’s terrorism
color on the M&M tote board is yellow.
A year ago at Chicago’s Comiskey Field, I mean, U.S.
Cellular Net Verizon AT&T Cingular Field, a shirtless father
and son decided to jump the railing and beat up the Kansas City
Royals’ first-base coach, senior citizen Tom Gamboa. One of
them even had a pocketknife, yet security was deathly slow in
response to the breach.
This year at the same Chicago Cell Phone Booth, a fan jumped out
of the stands and attacked umpire and former marine Laz Diaz. The
fan lost that battle.
Who can ever forget the person who stabbed Monica Seles with a
knife during a tennis match in Europe, effectively ruining one of
the blossoming careers in women’s tennis?
Occasional violence at sporting events is unfortunately somewhat
commonplace. Sporting organizations usually wait for lightning to
strike before going out and buying a surge protector. Once someone
is killed because of a fan incident on the playing surface, all the
rules will change at sporting events. But why wait? Something that
recently occurred convinced me the rules need to be changed now,
before it costs someone his life.
In Silverstone, England, during the British Formula One Grand
Prix, a 56-year-old kilted Irishman somehow got onto the racetrack
and was prancing around with religious paraphernalia about his
body. Racecars were zooming past him at speeds of over 160 mph, and
when looking closely at the replay, many drivers didn’t see
the Irishman until the last possible second and swerved out of the
way just in time. I didn’t know the latest version of the
Irish jig is to drunkenly stumble onto a live racetrack and dodge
cars going faster than most commuter planes. I’ll try it the
next time I’m feeling suicidal.
How can we ensure that fans don’t jump onto the field of
play? The answer is simpler than you think. We don’t need
bomb detectors at every arena entrance. We don’t need high
technology scanners to find out what little, old ladies are hiding
in their purses (I bet it’s gum and dentures). We don’t
need security personnel protecting every conceivable inch of the
court.
What do we need?
Moats.
Yea, that’s right. Moats.
A moat is a deep, wide ditch usually filled with water,
typically surrounding a fortified medieval town, fortress, castle
or arena as a protection against assault.
I love moats. Little kids usually dream of fast cars, big toys
and roller coasters. I always dreamed of having a moat around my
house (don’t ask why). I strangely enjoy looking at pictures
of old castles surrounded by moats.
A 20-foot-wide moat surrounding the initial playing surface will
do. Who in his right mind is going to come onto the field by way of
swimming through a moat? There’s already that 15-foot walkway
at most sporting venues separating the court and the seats that
security doesn’t allow anyone to traverse anyway. Dig a hole,
fill it with water, add interesting sea creatures, and you’re
set. If you want to add the medieval effect of knights on horseback
dressed in full regalia, that’s cool but unnecessary.
So now, with moats around the court, what are people going to
do? Dress up in scuba gear and flippers, swim across, get up on the
other side, run with water pouring out of their bum, and create
havoc? I don’t think so.
And I know what you’re thinking. What happens if long-jump
specialists want to come onto the field? They can easily clear 20
feet. Stack the moat with piranhas, sharks and incredibly big sea
urchins, and I think your long jumper will have second
thoughts.
Who would have thought a feature of the Middle Ages would be
relevant in the 21st century? Along with moats, I vote to bring
back drawing and quartering, polygamy and stew mush for dinner.
With moats at sporting events, the ease with which players can
play, coaches can coach, and fans can cheer is increased tenfold.
Necessity is not the mother of invention. Invention is the mother
of necessity. Put the guns, pepper spray and walkie talkies away.
Just bring back the moat.
Fast Glass wants to throw himself into a moat over the Kobe
situation. E-mail him your Kobe thoughts at
sglass@media.ucla.edu.