The crowd EXPLODED!
The noise level was deafening. Just as I expected it would be. Then I pressed THE button. Not just any button but that of a cassette tape that was hard wired into the Fieldhouse’s massive sound system. The music fired up and the internal spotlights circled the banner and then rotated into the crowd like a Hollywood premier. This lasted for only 34 seconds but for me it was an eternity. I have seen this one moment in time from every angle of the building. In my mind, I have seen it 1,000 times from everywhere; from every corner of the Fieldhouse. From a fan’s perspective on the last row of the arena ... to sitting next to Elder Perry on the front row.
The song that I used? After endless hours of soul-searching, I finally decided it would be Oh Yea, the theme song by Yello from the movie, Ferris Bueller's Day Off.
I had timed two others; the first was “Something Happened on the Way to Heaven” by Phil Collins and the second was “Always on My Mind” by the Pet Shop Boys. In hindsight, I probably should have gone with the Pet Shop Boys but there was only a non-singing element of the British Duo’s song for the first 35 seconds. About the same time period for Phil Collins as well. After that, I would be competing against these singers on the public address system, so finding the right music to introduce the Cougars starting six was absolutely critical. Once the searchlights crisscrossed the arena, I went back to the microphone and said, “And now, let’s welcome the starting line-up of YOUR BYU COUGARS”.
And then the crowd really went nuts.
So, I slowly lowered the volume of the tape recorder with my left hand and held a flashlight in my right so I could read the starting line-up of the BYU team. Not being able to read the names of the starting lineup for BYU would have equally have been bad. Finally the spotlights rested on Carl McGown for his introduction and two seconds later, the house lights were turned back on.
Wow.
So, let's get back to the janitor. Well, the only person I could trust and the only person who had the keys to the circuit breakers for the arena was the janitor, Stuart Randolph. Without him, this could never have been pulled off. Here’s why. Immediately after I said the name “Marv Dunphy”, I had planned with Randolph, in advance, that he was to pull the circuit breakers and kill all lights in the Smith Fieldhouse. The problem was that he couldn’t hear me say Dunphy’s name over the public address system because of the noise from the crowd. Since he couldn’t hear my cue, Randolph sprinted from his position at the electric power grid to the entrance of the arena, saw that the Pepperdine team has already been announced, and then pivoted and ran back to hit the master switch.
That took eight very long seconds and let me tell you, eight seconds can be a lifetime. But the anticipation by the crowd for the announcement of the BYU team only made the impact of the spotlights that much more dramatic. For you see, the lighting technicians were under strict orders not to turn on their spotlights until the house lights went off. So in hindsight, the delay by Randolph in darkening the arena worked out for the best. The emotional impact of the darkened arena, interior spotlights with pounding rock music created exactly what I was hoping for. The opening night of BYU Volleyball was not just another Volleyball match but a major sporting event; a spectacular opening of NCAA Volleyball in Provo, Utah that no one that had seen it would ever forget.
But I keep thinking about the Pet Shop Boys. Certainly this means nothing to the people attending the match but it did for me. I am sure the emotional impact to the spectators would not have changed. Once the opening introductory festivities ended, it came down to the match and as I thought, the Cougars were crushed in three straight games. With the match over, I made the rounds to thank everyone who was involved in the pre-match festivities, especially with Elder Perry.
It can’t hurt making friends with a man who talks with God on a daily basis.
As I was mulling around on center court, a stocky gentleman came up to me, introduced himself and we chatted for a few minutes and offered me a concept that not only would end up changing my life forever but brought me to four Olympiads, including the Beijing Summer Olympics.
His name is Bob McGregor.
***
A native Hawaiian, Bob had spent the first half of 1989 working as a general field reporter for KPUA radio in Hilo, Hawaii.
On the Big Island of Hawaii, Bob had been one of the key radio broadcasters for the Hilo Vulcan Volleyball program in 1989 for KPUA and attended the US Open Volleyball championships in Salt Lake City that summer. While he was in Utah receiving an award, Bob had heard from some of his island friends that BYU was going to move their Volleyball program from club level to NCAA. Bob had recently applied for a graduate program at BYU and was looking forward to acceptance into that program.
Bob left the station's employment at the end of the Vulcan's Fall 1988 Volleyball season. After he returned from Utah and while his application for acceptance into the BYU Master’s Communications program was pending, he decided to go ahead and sell his Hawaii holdings and move to Utah. Bob had completed a deal with a condo property to take a unit with them in December, and figured that Christmas would be as good a time as any to move. So by the time the Vulcan Volleyball season was over, Bob was ready to make his move. After the holidays, and having not yet received any type of response from BYU regarding his Master’s admission, Bob drove down to Provo in early January to see what was happening with his application. He introduced himself to Carl McGowan, whom he had never met but heard a lot about from his stint at BYU-Hawaii and his involvement with Bob’s father, who was active in coaching the BYU Hawaii Volleyball programs.
Bob had run several exhibitions at BYU Hawaii and had raised substantial funds for the Volleyball programs at the institution. But his father had passed seven years before, and was not certain as to whether Coach McGowan would remember his family, let alone Bob himself.
When that fateful day arrived when he was to meet McGown, about two to three weeks prior to the opening night match, Bob quickly dispensed with his planned visit to the BYU Admissions Office, still being told that no action had been taken regarding his application. So with great trepidation, Bob headed off to the Fieldhouse to find Carl McGown.
After getting lost at least three times, Bob finally found McGown’s small office on the second floor of the Fieldhouse. When he introduced himself, it seemed that McGown did recall Bob’s family, and was somewhat interested in utilizing his broadcasting talents. But to Bob’s surprise, McGown picked up the phone and made a telephone call, and after a short conversation, Bob found myself talking to a guy he had only met perhaps once while I was a student at BYU Hawaii in the 1980's. Of course that individual was myself and I wanted to know of Bob’s background in media and he told me of my radio experience in both live and TV simulcasting.
Bob gave me his references and thought nothing more would come of it. After the phone conversation, Bob thought that was going to be the end of things between us. McGown had given Bob a couple of comp tickets to the opening night and the first three matches which he readily accepted.
Bob was surprised that I had called his references and they both recommended him for any type of broadcasting opportunities … for you see, Bob was the only person in the United States of America that had actually broadcast the sport of Volleyball on radio.
Yes, you heard me right. Play by play sports radio broadcasting of Volleyball. Not Basketball, not Football … but Volleyball on radio. And apparently Bob was pretty good at it and his comments to me were effusive. We can do this; we can do that. He just went on and on. Then he got me thinking that we could actually do it.
Together, we were a dangerous combination.
Well, we exchanged telephone numbers; “my secretary will call yours” type of talk. I still had two more home Volleyball matches to promote – BYU hosting UCLA and USC – which kept me in Utah Valley for another three weeks. Even with the Cougars losing all three matches, the team drew about 14,000 spectators for three nights in a 5,000 seat arena. I went back to southern California with $5,000 in my pocket and attendance for BYU Volleyball, with all of the marketing and promotion now stopped,