Those Guys Have All the Fun - James Andrew Miller [107]
I always wanted to look professional, but it wasn’t something I spent a whole lot of time on, because there was so much else to be concerned about. I was at ESPN when Doug Collins was fired and they were announcing Phil Jackson as their next coach. It was 101 degrees in Chicago, and I went over to the Bulls’ offices, where they were having a last-minute press conference to introduce Phil. I’m wearing a little dress and it’s sleeveless, but I’m okay with that because I am thoroughly athletic and muscular for a small person. But ESPN freaked that I was showing my arms. So I said, “Well, number one: it’s a hundred-some degrees, and number two: the day you start buying me clothes is the day you can start telling me what to wear.” And guess what? They started buying me clothes! So I actually had a clothing deal before it got put on my contract. I’m serious. And ever since then, I’ve always had clothing deals.
Back then, there were only three bureau reporters—I was in Chicago, Jimmy Roberts was in New York, and Chris Myers was in L.A. We didn’t have computers and we didn’t have BlackBerries. We didn’t even have cell phones. We were lucky we had phone cards. We all had our own producers, but at that time, I had infinitely more field-producing experience than they did, because that’s how I started off at NFL Films. So there was no opportunity for me to learn how to get better from a producer. I was basically teaching them the job. In some respects they were to me like production assistants—setting things up, making sure they went smoothly. I never, ever, ever had anything written for me, never anything handed to me, no questions, no preparation, nothing. It was all on my own. And that became my level of expectation for producers. It’s very simple. We’re working on deadline, and if you can’t carry your load, well then, I don’t really have a lot of use for you. I’m just going to do it myself because I’m darn well not going to take my time to do it for you. They were always concerned that I would be too hard on the producers because I had high levels of expectations, but what was happening was that everybody wanted to work with me because I came prepared in a totally different way than anybody else. And I was doing a lot more writing than anybody else. But I constantly had to tell these people to stop saying things were going to get fixed in the editing room. Who gives a shit what’s happening in the edit room? You can have all your bells and whistles but don’t worry about style, worry about content. Get your elements. Make sure you’re organized.
One day, Jim Cohen and Bob Eaton, my bosses, took me to some local Italian place, and we’re sitting there talking about my work. They both have really good bedside manner, and I never questioned for a minute if they had my personal and professional growth in mind. They were very supportive. But we’re sitting there and they’re basically telling me, “Look, you’re really hard on producers and it’s hard to deal with.” It wasn’t like I was in trouble or anything, but I can still remember having a lot of emotions built up where you kind of want to cry because you’re semi-angry and semi-hurt. I felt a lot of resentment, anger, sadness, everything. But I was trying to keep my composure and certainly not turn defensive but try to use it productively. After they made their spiel, I said to them, “Just answer me one question. Would we be having this conversation if I was a man?” They looked at each other and then said no. Well, that pretty much told me all I needed to know.
TERRY LINGNER:
Rich Volger probably won more sprint and midget car races than anybody on