The last word has yet to be writ on the Chelsea-Milan match. You’ve read accounts of the match (many posted on this site) and seen the visuals on TV. You’ve heard what the promoters, boosters and operations folks had to say. Pretty soon we’ll get some bottom line figures from Dr. B on the economic impact of the event.
There are many dimensions to success, but we focus on this facet: when will it happen again?
It’s no secret Maryland (and particularly Baltimore) is in the hunt for more marquee events. The Ravens have stated they’d like to be a part of next year’s barnstorming tour. (NOTE: The Ravens seem to have connections far beyond mere mortals. Did you notice that the thunderstorm – predicted all day – did not deluge until 30 minutes after the match? )
Those around Dick Cass said he was never far from weather dot com the entire evening, but it had to be Divine Intervention, not Divine Internet, that kept the storm from pelting our pitch. Remember, these are the guys who discovered Joe Flacco, so don’t question their connections.
Meanwhile, it has been reported (I didn’t squeal) that Baltimore is making another big pitch (of the non-sod variety) to be part of the US bid to host the FIFA World Cup. Truth be known, that mega performance Friday night was actually an audition. It was our turn to strut our stuff on our stage for a member of the US bid committee (who was in the stadium) and those kazillions who were watching us from around the world.
So how did we do?
Before the game, I did some informal field testing. One of the first stops was our local watering hole. (NOTE: Terry wants to make it clear this was after work hours and no alcohol was consumed during the survey.) Pickles was designated an official “Chelsea” gathering place, and three hours before the match the “Blues” festivities had spilled onto Washington Boulevard. Inside, the Texas Chelsea club was selling gear and flags. Yes, there was a sizeable delegation from Texas in attendance. Ironic, since Chelsea was playing in Dallas in two days. These guys are true groupies
Not everyone got the memo. A contingent of Milan fans from Atlanta were alone in a back corner. I suggested Little Italy might be more appropriate, but they were content to stay in Chelseaville and observe. A little later, I encounter another group of red and black clad fans outside. They knew they were in the wrong place, but figured they’d stay anyway since they liked the festive atmosphere and enjoyed making snarky observations about the opposing fans and their weird accents. (People from Jersey do not have accents, they explained)
Bottom line – everyone I talked to was from somewhere else. One fellow had drive from North Carolina to spend the weekend with friends who were meeting him there from Albany. Distance is not deterrent to hard core soccer fans. Why Chelsea? Something to do with cable carrying their games. Like the Cub fans in Somoa who get WGN on satellite, you never know who might be tuned in at odd hours of the day.
Were they having a good time in Maryland? Too early to tell. But they were excited to have this opportunity within driving distance.
(Let’s hear it for Tankagas State!! That card may trump everything in the deck)
I’ll spare you the tailgate experiences (although the Crystal Palace setup at Lot O was a great idea and the Caribbean Band was a nice touch) and move to the crowd outside the stadium. This was the most heartwarming part of the evening for me, because of all the little kids, there with their families, who were having almost a mystical experience. Many were dressed in Chelsea and Milan kits and I have the scrapped shins to prove how much fun they had kicking balls around while trying to burn off energy. (They wouldn’t stand still to have their pictures taken and it was my own fault for getting between them)
Despite all that happened on the inside of the stadium, with all the hype and all the energy, this was my favorite part of the evening. Those kids had found nirvana. I learned later they were part of the Bays organization who escorted their idols on to the field.
While everyone else was preparing for opening ceremonies, I was huddled in front of the TV, tuned into ESPN, with some attendants at the Club level elevator. Yes, it’s always better to see a sports event live -- unless you want to know how the rest of the world perceives it. Then you see it through their eyes.
Special shout out to John Angelos of the Orioles and Jay Newman of WJZ They made it possible for us to furnish ESPN with high definition footage of Baltimore at its best – beautiful aerial shots of the stadiums, the harbor, and downtown at night. This “b-roll” is important to have in your arsenal when broadcasts are taking place. They help the show producers give the event an important “sense of place” In our case, it reminds viewers there is much more to Baltimore than what you see on “The Wire”
So with my back to the field, I could savor the superlatives of the broadcast team. I don’t know how many times they repeated “sellout crowd here in Baltimore” but there are no sweeter words in the world of retail sports. Yes, the enthusiasm of the crowd was impressive, yes the stadium is beautiful (nice shots of the Raven gargoyle on the upper deck) and yes, everyone was having a great time in the pubs prior to the game.
But there’s nothing like those words “sellout crowd” to catch the attention of rights-holders the world over.
I left early (no traffic jam for this one) and went home to bed. Even slept through the thunderstorm, because the best was yet to come, pr wise.
After a big event (or anticipating a major story) I always wake up in the middle of the night for the scan – a search for all news reports before they appear in print..
It’s like going to Sardi’s after a Broadway opening, to read the first reviews from the morning papers.
At 3:00 am Saturday, I knew our production was an unqualified hit. Boffo, as Variety would say. Two thumbs up. Five stars.
I did my copy and paste and sent the stories along before going back to sleep. Because the end of story has yet to be writ. That will happen when we know they’re coming back.
