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Just another afternoon in the White House By Bill Simmons Page 2 columnist WASHINGTON (Tuesday, 11:45 p.m.) -- When championship teams venture to the White House to meet the president, they always show clips on "SportsCenter" of the prez shaking hands with the captains, holding up a cheesy jersey, smiling happily and making a good-natured comment or joke. It's always the same clip, isn't it? Only the players and jerseys seem to change.
So how did I get there? My bosses spent about a week trying to sneak me on the media list, a complicated process which even included the White House running a security check on me. Thank God, they never found out about that drifter I killed back in '75. Once I passed the background check, they directed me to the White House press entrance at 2 o'clock in the afternoon. Getting there, you notice five things right away:
Anyway, that's where I waited for a full hour -- reporters drifting in and out, cameramen toying with their equipment, interns hustling around. I wandered to the back and found another room filled with cubicles for various TV networks (there are a slate of offices in the basement, as well), about as claustrophobic an environment as you can imagine. It seemed like everyone knew each other, and nobody seemed very happy. Covering the White House definitely isn't as glamorous as you might think.
I passed the time making small-talk with people and snooping around, only finding out one useful piece of information -- a piece of paper that detailed the President's precise schedule for Tuesday, March 12th. (Check out the comparison of Dubya's schedule with my own in the box at right.) Around 3, we were finally shepherded into the East Wing of the first floor of the White House, so everyone could position themselves for the 3:30 ceremony (originally this was supposed to take place outside, but bad weather intervened). Now we're getting somewhere. When you walk through the front door of the White House, with a band (from the University of Maryland) playing fight songs in the background, with those famous portraits of various presidents in the main lobby (including the classic of JFK glancing down), with that "Hey, I'm in the White House!" feeling trickling through your veins, it's a pretty electric experience. I felt like Kevin Kline heading into the White House at the beginning of "Dave." Inside the assigned room on the East Wing -- a giant, museum-like, ballroom-sized room filled with classic paintings -- 350-400 people were packed like sardines, included assorted media, invited guests, parents, relatives and members of seven different NCAA championship teams (only the captains were allowed up front). Here were the teams involved:
Look at that list again ... check out the women's teams again ... now imagine how many West Coast babes were up on stage (let's put it this way: There were more than a few). Are you having the same reaction I had? That "Too bad Clinton still wasn't president for this one" reaction? Wouldn't that have been FEEEEEE-nomenal? Imagine Clinton sidling up to the Stanford volleyball captains with that grin that said, And what hotel are YOU staying at? Was there anything funnier in the history of politics than Bill Clinton trying to rein himself in around an attractive female? Man, I miss that guy. Anyway, standing on the makeshift stage, the captains were holding those requisite team jerseys that said "BUSH 1" on the back (apparently they have to turn these jerseys in the previous day to the Secret Service, who screen and inspect them for God knows what). And everyone was standing around, and waiting, and waiting, and about 25 minutes passed, and you could actually feel the tension building. It was palpable. It almost felt like those glorious moments right before the lights dim in a stadium and a rock band comes out. Finally, the P.A. announcer said: "Ladies and gentleman, the President of the United States." And then ... there he was: The leader of the free world. What a life. Every time he walks into a room, people applaud like crazy and fawn all over him ... then he goes to his next venue, and it happens all over again. How can you top that after you leave the office? You can't. I'd end up hiring a 40-person posse to follow me around and lavish me with applause at all times. But that's just me. Like most celebrities, Bush seemed much smaller in person -- maybe about 5-foot-9 soaking wet, much frailer than you would think. He seemed like a nice enough guy, definitely someone who would kick back with you at a wedding and give you his last cigar. He just isn't that presidential.
After the applause subsided, ESPN's Chris Fowler introduced the seven teams on hand before finally turning things over to Bush. The Prez cracked a quick joke about Fowler's extended intro ("I like a good, short introduction") as everyone over-laughed because, well, he's the President. Then he started talking extemporaneously, which is always scary because, well, he's George W. Bush. That has been one of the more interesting subplots of 9/11, the fact that we can't make fun of Bush's public speaking anymore -- we just have to stand there, smile through thinly clenched teeth and hope he makes it through the speech. Usually, he does. And on this day, he did. It actually wasn't a bad little speech. Bush brought up the "Champion" theme and tied it to America's responsibilities as the leader of the free world, dropping nuggets like, "We defend freedom, we continue to defend freedom" and "You have a responsibility as a champion to set an example for others." Bush has uttered these same words a million different ways over the past six months, but still, we ate it up. Something about hearing it in person makes it feel 10 times more powerful.
And then it was over. The President gathered up the jerseys, thanked everyone for coming and walked back across the room to thunderous applause. The whole thing lasted less than 20 minutes. With the schedule Bush carries, he'll probably forget it even happened within two weeks. But hey ... I won't forget. I went to the White House. Tomorrow: The Hogs and RFK Stadium. Bill Simmons writes three columns a week for Page 2. He'll be writing from Washington, D.C., all this week. |
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