NBC Stands for: "Never Been to Cornhuskerland"
As many of you may have heard, NBC has come to the UNL campus to film a new reality show, loosely centered around the following concept: Tommy Lee (of fucking Pam Anderson on video fame, and who also used to be in a band or something) is going to college for a whole month to get an education and better himself. Several UNL students have been cast to somehow be involved in this.
What, you ask, does this have to do with The Beav? Well, check it out:
10/8
Every Friday I join my friends from the theatre department to play football on the lawn in front of Love Library at 4:30. This Friday is no different. The weather is beautiful, and we've got a solid matchup going. We start playing around 4:45 or so. The game is going well. The teams are well-matched, and I'm enjoying myself thoroughly because I'm not playing like utter shit this week. Around 5:15 or so we start noticing what looks like somebody setting up for a film shoot just off the corner of one of our "end zones". We wonder if this is going where we all think it's going.
At about 5:45, we find out that it is going precisely where we thought it was going. Some guy from NBC's camera crew comes over and informs us that they "have to do this interview shot." He first approaches Jeff for negotiations, and thus Jeff becomes the ambassador for our incredulous mob. The NBC guy is lucky he didn't start talking to me, or it would have been a much less pleasant conversation. Here's a rough idea of how the chat went.
NBC: Hey, we've gotta get this interview shot, could I get you guys to maybe stop playing and take a break for like 15 or 20 minutes?
Jeff: You want us to stop playing? We've been here the whole time.
NBC: Yeah, I know, but we've gotta get this shot. Is there any way you guys can take a break? We only need like 15 or 20 minutes and then you guys can play again.
Jeff: We only have until 6:00 to play. If we take a break, our game is over, and we're not done playing.
(NBC guys is awestruck that we haven't bowed instantly to the whims of reality television. After all, we're simple minded hicks who should surrender to him and his fancy TV equipment like Iraqi soldiers in Desert Storm, right?)
NBC: Well, is there another field or something around here where you guys could go play? I gotta get this shot done tonight.
(I can no longer contain my annoyance)
Beav: What? No. We were here before you guys showed up.
Jeff: We're only gonna play until 6:00. We have 6:00 call for our show. We're in Medea over at the Temple building, so if you wait until 6:00 we'll be done and you can do your shot.
NBC: Yeah, but I can't wait. Once the light is gone I'm fucked.
Beav: Yeah? Well so are we. We've been here the whole time, guy. We're playing.
Jeff: I mean, it's not like we just showed up. You saw us here.
NBC: Okay......well........I mean, I know you can't really play football quietly.......but.....could you maybe try to kinda keep it down and we'll try to shoot it anyway?
Beav: Uh.....whatever man, we'll see what we can do. We'll try to *play quietly*.
Jeff: Yeah, sure. HIKE!
Okay so let's recap.
Firstly, I'm sorry, but did you just walk up to some kids in Nebraska and ask them to stop playing football? Clearly you're not from 'round here. Didn't you get the memo? Football is GOD in Nebraska. If Jesus himself asked us to stop playing, we'd be like "Hey, Jesus, we're down a touchdown and we've got the ball. This guy's been playing up on me all day, I know I can get him with a double move." I mean, we're not just in the state, but on the University of Nebraska campus, mere blocks away from our gridiron Mecca, Memorial Stadium. This is practically hallowed ground. You clearly don't fathom what you've just asked us to do.
Secondly, your stupid ass saw us playing football when you walked over here and set up your shot. You're interviewing some student about dumb crap, and now you want us to stop what we were doing? You could have at least brought over your middle-aged, B-list celebrity to try establishing some ethos for your ridiculous request. We have no interest in conceding to you. In fact, we resent your very presence here.
Thirdly, isn't this "reality" TV? What, background noise doesn't exist in reality? Do you honestly think that anyone would have a hard time accepting the notion that there's a game of pick-up football going on somewhere in the background of Lincoln, Nebraska? Granted, we all know it's really "specifically shot so that we get the 'reality' that we want to portray" TV, but I hate to break it to you...the *reality* here is that we're playing football, and you and your dumb show can go fuck yourselves. Better yet, get Tommy Lee and his monster wang to do it. He's accomplished at on-camera fucking, right?
So we resume playing, and are relatively quiet...for a while. We satirize the situation by giving a vigorous "SHHHHH!!!!!!" to anyone who talks as we play. The ultimate breaking of the silence, though, is another in the long list of stuff that makes the story of my college life hilarious. I'll get to that, but first you need some backstory: Matt is a theatre major, and plays football with us every week. He's about six feel tall, and even more of a skinny bastard than I am. We call him "Whitey" because he's pale and blonde. Matt just might be the worst player of everyone who plays with us. The kid routinely gets beaten on pass coverage, drops passes and misses tackles. We harass him about it endlessly. If I had a dollar for every time we've said "Matt! Hit his legs!!" I could build a stadium for us to play in. This kid drops interceptions thrown right at him. Basically he's "that kid" in the football game. On one particular play today, though, Matt beats his man on a deep post route. Jeff lofts a pass in his direction...but it's pretty far out in front. Matt breaks into a sprint toward the ball, makes a fingertips catch in the middle of the field and runs it in for a touchdown. After that, weeks of frustration are instantly released.
As soon as Matt breaks the plane of the end zone, he lets out a mighty scream of "YEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!!!!!!!!!" This alone is probably enough to ruin NBC's shot, but he isn't done. Still screaming, he carries his flailing celebration into the street behind the end zone, but quickly realizes he can't celebrate out there due to the traffic. He comes back to the mulch in the back of the end zone (we play on a lawn, not a real field) and spikes the ball powerfully, sending mulch flying in all directions, and screams, "UUUUUUUUUGGHHHHHH, MOTHER FUCKER!!!!!!" at the top of his lungs. By now most of us are on the ground laughing, and Matt is still yelling various comments to express his thorough pride at having finally scored a touchdown. By this time we know we've ruined the NBC filming, because the NBC guy screams "QUIET PLEASE!!!" as though he may have a stroke at any moment. This only makes us laugh all the harder. Matt's second scream had literally sent echoes off the buildings all around us.
At this point, the poor girl relegated to the task of keeping NBC's shots clear comes over to negotiate with us. She realizes it's ridiculous that her superior has set up a shot there, and respects our wish to play football, but asks if we can please be quiet. I pity this girl. I explain the situation to her. "Sorry, he's not very good, so he gets really excited when he actually does something good in a game. I'm sure it won't happen again." Presently, she scurries away to us to herd a couple Goth kids out of the background of their shot.
Shortly after that it's 6:00. We finish up our game and go our separate ways. Our team has emerged victorious, I've broken my streak of sucking at football, and we've pissed off the representatives of one of the world's largest media outlets. As we leave, we make a point of screaming our goodbyes to each other as loudly as possible. Ultimately, this will be the last time NBC sets up a shot anywhere near our football game.
What, you ask, does this have to do with The Beav? Well, check it out:
10/8
Every Friday I join my friends from the theatre department to play football on the lawn in front of Love Library at 4:30. This Friday is no different. The weather is beautiful, and we've got a solid matchup going. We start playing around 4:45 or so. The game is going well. The teams are well-matched, and I'm enjoying myself thoroughly because I'm not playing like utter shit this week. Around 5:15 or so we start noticing what looks like somebody setting up for a film shoot just off the corner of one of our "end zones". We wonder if this is going where we all think it's going.
At about 5:45, we find out that it is going precisely where we thought it was going. Some guy from NBC's camera crew comes over and informs us that they "have to do this interview shot." He first approaches Jeff for negotiations, and thus Jeff becomes the ambassador for our incredulous mob. The NBC guy is lucky he didn't start talking to me, or it would have been a much less pleasant conversation. Here's a rough idea of how the chat went.
NBC: Hey, we've gotta get this interview shot, could I get you guys to maybe stop playing and take a break for like 15 or 20 minutes?
Jeff: You want us to stop playing? We've been here the whole time.
NBC: Yeah, I know, but we've gotta get this shot. Is there any way you guys can take a break? We only need like 15 or 20 minutes and then you guys can play again.
Jeff: We only have until 6:00 to play. If we take a break, our game is over, and we're not done playing.
(NBC guys is awestruck that we haven't bowed instantly to the whims of reality television. After all, we're simple minded hicks who should surrender to him and his fancy TV equipment like Iraqi soldiers in Desert Storm, right?)
NBC: Well, is there another field or something around here where you guys could go play? I gotta get this shot done tonight.
(I can no longer contain my annoyance)
Beav: What? No. We were here before you guys showed up.
Jeff: We're only gonna play until 6:00. We have 6:00 call for our show. We're in Medea over at the Temple building, so if you wait until 6:00 we'll be done and you can do your shot.
NBC: Yeah, but I can't wait. Once the light is gone I'm fucked.
Beav: Yeah? Well so are we. We've been here the whole time, guy. We're playing.
Jeff: I mean, it's not like we just showed up. You saw us here.
NBC: Okay......well........I mean, I know you can't really play football quietly.......but.....could you maybe try to kinda keep it down and we'll try to shoot it anyway?
Beav: Uh.....whatever man, we'll see what we can do. We'll try to *play quietly*.
Jeff: Yeah, sure. HIKE!
Okay so let's recap.
Firstly, I'm sorry, but did you just walk up to some kids in Nebraska and ask them to stop playing football? Clearly you're not from 'round here. Didn't you get the memo? Football is GOD in Nebraska. If Jesus himself asked us to stop playing, we'd be like "Hey, Jesus, we're down a touchdown and we've got the ball. This guy's been playing up on me all day, I know I can get him with a double move." I mean, we're not just in the state, but on the University of Nebraska campus, mere blocks away from our gridiron Mecca, Memorial Stadium. This is practically hallowed ground. You clearly don't fathom what you've just asked us to do.
Secondly, your stupid ass saw us playing football when you walked over here and set up your shot. You're interviewing some student about dumb crap, and now you want us to stop what we were doing? You could have at least brought over your middle-aged, B-list celebrity to try establishing some ethos for your ridiculous request. We have no interest in conceding to you. In fact, we resent your very presence here.
Thirdly, isn't this "reality" TV? What, background noise doesn't exist in reality? Do you honestly think that anyone would have a hard time accepting the notion that there's a game of pick-up football going on somewhere in the background of Lincoln, Nebraska? Granted, we all know it's really "specifically shot so that we get the 'reality' that we want to portray" TV, but I hate to break it to you...the *reality* here is that we're playing football, and you and your dumb show can go fuck yourselves. Better yet, get Tommy Lee and his monster wang to do it. He's accomplished at on-camera fucking, right?
So we resume playing, and are relatively quiet...for a while. We satirize the situation by giving a vigorous "SHHHHH!!!!!!" to anyone who talks as we play. The ultimate breaking of the silence, though, is another in the long list of stuff that makes the story of my college life hilarious. I'll get to that, but first you need some backstory: Matt is a theatre major, and plays football with us every week. He's about six feel tall, and even more of a skinny bastard than I am. We call him "Whitey" because he's pale and blonde. Matt just might be the worst player of everyone who plays with us. The kid routinely gets beaten on pass coverage, drops passes and misses tackles. We harass him about it endlessly. If I had a dollar for every time we've said "Matt! Hit his legs!!" I could build a stadium for us to play in. This kid drops interceptions thrown right at him. Basically he's "that kid" in the football game. On one particular play today, though, Matt beats his man on a deep post route. Jeff lofts a pass in his direction...but it's pretty far out in front. Matt breaks into a sprint toward the ball, makes a fingertips catch in the middle of the field and runs it in for a touchdown. After that, weeks of frustration are instantly released.
As soon as Matt breaks the plane of the end zone, he lets out a mighty scream of "YEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!!!!!!!!!" This alone is probably enough to ruin NBC's shot, but he isn't done. Still screaming, he carries his flailing celebration into the street behind the end zone, but quickly realizes he can't celebrate out there due to the traffic. He comes back to the mulch in the back of the end zone (we play on a lawn, not a real field) and spikes the ball powerfully, sending mulch flying in all directions, and screams, "UUUUUUUUUGGHHHHHH, MOTHER FUCKER!!!!!!" at the top of his lungs. By now most of us are on the ground laughing, and Matt is still yelling various comments to express his thorough pride at having finally scored a touchdown. By this time we know we've ruined the NBC filming, because the NBC guy screams "QUIET PLEASE!!!" as though he may have a stroke at any moment. This only makes us laugh all the harder. Matt's second scream had literally sent echoes off the buildings all around us.
At this point, the poor girl relegated to the task of keeping NBC's shots clear comes over to negotiate with us. She realizes it's ridiculous that her superior has set up a shot there, and respects our wish to play football, but asks if we can please be quiet. I pity this girl. I explain the situation to her. "Sorry, he's not very good, so he gets really excited when he actually does something good in a game. I'm sure it won't happen again." Presently, she scurries away to us to herd a couple Goth kids out of the background of their shot.
Shortly after that it's 6:00. We finish up our game and go our separate ways. Our team has emerged victorious, I've broken my streak of sucking at football, and we've pissed off the representatives of one of the world's largest media outlets. As we leave, we make a point of screaming our goodbyes to each other as loudly as possible. Ultimately, this will be the last time NBC sets up a shot anywhere near our football game.
posted by Beav at 4:43 AM
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