...I was a little early. The doors to Ryan Fieldhouse, where the Cats were practicing, were wide open, so I walked in just as the team was starting to scrimmage at the end of practice.
Usually, there's a group of media hanging around in the corner nearest the doors, but today there wasn't anyone there. I seemed to be the first one there. I didn't see any media relations people, either, so I couldn't "check in" with them.
So, I figured I'd just blend in and watch some of the scrimmage. No one will even notice I'm there, I thought. I'll blend right in with the dozens of other observers -- visiting prospects, boosters, training staff, etc.
I watched a few plays. I took my notepad and pen out of my pocket and scratched something out. At that very moment, guess who noticed I was there? Fitz. The guy must have eyes in the back of his head. He was watching the scrimmage from behind the offense, which was running plays in the opposite direction from where I was standing, yelling things out, coaching players, running around. And he still somehow saw me among a pretty big line of people.
"Louie, don't be taking notes and posting that s**t on the Internet!" he yelled at the top of his lungs. I held up my hands, like he was a cop and I was a high schooler getting busted with a beer. A group of people turned to look at me.
Of course, Fitz wasn't serious. It was just his way of saying hello. It wasn't like I was on my phone, tweeting something to the world. Really, I was just jotting down a question to ask him later. He knows that I know better than to report on practice, even if it is just spring practice.
A short time later, a media relations staffer came over to ask me to wait in the lobby. It turns out the practice was really closed and that media wasn't supposed to even watch. (Personally, I can understand that policy during the season, when the Cats are installing a game plan. But in the spring, it seems a little paranoid. But whatever, it is what it is.)
Anyway, I thought the whole episode was funny. Here I was thinking I was getting away with something, and the freaking head coach notices me. It's like sneaking into a Stones concert and having Mick Jagger point you from the stage.
In the end, I managed to see about 15 plays that I wasn't supposed to. I would love to tell you all about them -- but I'm sure Fitz would bust me for that, too.
Usually, there's a group of media hanging around in the corner nearest the doors, but today there wasn't anyone there. I seemed to be the first one there. I didn't see any media relations people, either, so I couldn't "check in" with them.
So, I figured I'd just blend in and watch some of the scrimmage. No one will even notice I'm there, I thought. I'll blend right in with the dozens of other observers -- visiting prospects, boosters, training staff, etc.
I watched a few plays. I took my notepad and pen out of my pocket and scratched something out. At that very moment, guess who noticed I was there? Fitz. The guy must have eyes in the back of his head. He was watching the scrimmage from behind the offense, which was running plays in the opposite direction from where I was standing, yelling things out, coaching players, running around. And he still somehow saw me among a pretty big line of people.
"Louie, don't be taking notes and posting that s**t on the Internet!" he yelled at the top of his lungs. I held up my hands, like he was a cop and I was a high schooler getting busted with a beer. A group of people turned to look at me.
Of course, Fitz wasn't serious. It was just his way of saying hello. It wasn't like I was on my phone, tweeting something to the world. Really, I was just jotting down a question to ask him later. He knows that I know better than to report on practice, even if it is just spring practice.
A short time later, a media relations staffer came over to ask me to wait in the lobby. It turns out the practice was really closed and that media wasn't supposed to even watch. (Personally, I can understand that policy during the season, when the Cats are installing a game plan. But in the spring, it seems a little paranoid. But whatever, it is what it is.)
Anyway, I thought the whole episode was funny. Here I was thinking I was getting away with something, and the freaking head coach notices me. It's like sneaking into a Stones concert and having Mick Jagger point you from the stage.
In the end, I managed to see about 15 plays that I wasn't supposed to. I would love to tell you all about them -- but I'm sure Fitz would bust me for that, too.