9801210081
DETROIT FREE PRESS
980121
Wednesday, January 21, 1998
METRO FINAL
1C
MITCH ALBOM
Copyright (c) 1998, Detroit Free Press
WORST-CASE SCENARIO: HELMET RADIO IS CALLED FOR INTERFERENCE
SAN DIEGO -- I worry about things. I can't help it. It is my nature. If someone says
"chance of rain," I start looking at the sky. If someone says "mad cow
disease," I throw away my hamburger.
And if someone here in San Diego says, "The radio helmets at this year's Super
Bowl might be interfered with by Mexican radio stations," well, let me tell
you, I can hardly concentrate. I might have to put down the cocoa butter and
leave the beach altogether.
I learned of this latest potential Super Bowl disaster after reading a
newspaper piece here in Southern California. It spoke of frequency
interruption. It spoke of Mexico. It claimed certain radio stations in Mexico
don't exactly follow the stringent rules that U.S. radio stations do.
And since we are just across the border from Mexico, it is possible -- not
likely, but possible -- that sometime Sunday, during Super Bowl XXXII, the
football championship of the world, we could have this:
BRETT FAVRE (signaling): "What's the play?"
COACH (talking into headset): "Red leaf 28, X-dog, left."
WHAT FAVRE HEARS IN HELMET: "Si, la musica de Julio Iglesias! . . ."
So now, as if figuring out the point spread weren't hard enough, I have to
worry about Mexico. I remember, in the early '60s, they sent Wolfman Jack's
broadcast out of Mexico, which is why his signal was so strong. And there is
currently a U.S. sports station whose tower is in Mexico, and it booms all the
way through Los Angeles.
According to one of the men who developed the radio helmet, "The attitude in
Mexico is that it's a free-for-all. Few people follow the (broadcasting)
rules."
No offense, but I don't think John Elway came all this way to hear Richie
Valens music.
What's the frequency?
So I called a Mr. Jay Gerber, who is the NFL's frequency coordinator.
(This only shows you how far football has come. Once upon a time, the NFL had
three jobs: player, coach, commissioner. Now they have a frequency
coordinator. And I bet he has an assistant.)
Anyhow, I asked Mr. Gerber the question that all us decent, God-fearing,
football-crazy Americans want to know: Can Brett Favre order a pizza through
his helmet?
"Well, not exactly," he said. "There is a 99-and-9/10ths chance that nothing
like that will happen."
He then proved the power of 1/10th percent by relating a story from two years
ago, in which, on the day before the Dallas-Pittsburgh Super Bowl, he and his
staff discovered someone talking on the Cowboys designated radio helmet
frequency. And it wasn't a Cowboy.
"It was a businessman. And he was on an illegal cell phone talking to his
workers on walkie-talkies. We said, 'How did this guy get on our frequency?'
"Fortunately, he left a phone number for one of his workers. So I called him.
And I said, "Sir, you happen to be on the Dallas Cowboys' frequency."
Wow. Now there's a call you don't get every day. I mean, how many people can
say that they are on the Dallas Cowboys' frequency? Barry Switzer can't.
"What did he do?" I asked.
"He apologized," Gerber said.
Well, sure, he apologized. Who wants Leon Lett coming to your office and
eating your furniture? But what good would that do during a game? Mr. Gerber
admits that all kinds of radio and cellular frequencies could potentially
interfere with the radio helmets -- which, of course, were invented to allow
the quarterback to hear his coach, not Bill Gates. And given the air traffic
in Southern California, where your first bicycle comes with a cell phone, you
can only imagine the potential trouble.
"Two guys could get walkie-talkies at Radio Shack," Gerber said, "come to the
game, sit in different sections, and just by fluke, interfere with the Green
Bay Packers' frequency. Or a TV guy with an IFB earpiece. Or a nearby taxi
service."
A taxi service?
FAVRE: "What's the play?"
HELMET: "Pickup at 12th and Elm . . ."
FAVRE: "What?"
HELMET: "With pepperoni . . ."
FAVRE: "WHAT?"
HELMET: "Check out the blonde in Row 12 . . ."
FAVRE: "Where?"
Technology marches on
Now, I don't mean to cause alarm. Players walked around media day Tuesday as
if this was the most normal thing in the world. Elway laughed it off. Favre
shook it off. So just because I worry is no reason for them -- or you -- to
worry. Mr. Gerber assured me that even if this very, very highly unlikely
event that actually happened two years ago should occur, the NFL is prepared.
"We can instantly track down where the interfering frequency is coming from to
within two feet."
I can see it now. NFL helicopters swooping down on a Mexican cab driver.
"Sir, will you please shut off your radio? It's third down!"
Of course, all this is part of the march of technology that symbolizes the
NFL's growth. Instant Replay. Direct TV. Making Frank Gifford look good.
And, yes, the radio helmet.
Personally, I never liked this invention. I tried one once. I had a Lions
equipment man call plays in my ear from 20 years away. Every play sounded like
this:
"Redmrzzplyzp ...28hhhsst ...on three!"
Why quarterbacks like Favre and Elway would trust such devices is beyond me. I
prefer human beings. I enjoy watching one man race onto the field with the
play, like some Roman messenger bringing the latest strategy to the front
lines.
Of course, the Romans never had a guy come running in gasping, "Coach says
your batteries are dead! ..."
But that's just worry-wart me. Expect the worst, no matter what.
I am sure I am wrong. I am sure the Super Bowl will go without a hitch. I am
sure, despite our perilous proximity to the land of renegade radio frequencies
-- where anybody with a walkie-talkie can change the call on the most
important play of the game -- that there is absolutely nothing to worry about.
Then again, come Sunday, if Favre steps to the line, leans over center, and
yells, "A-LA-LA-LA-LA-LA-BAMBA! . . ." you'll know what happened.
To leave a message for Mitch Albom, call 1-313-223-4581.
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