Before I even arrive at the World Cup, I already feel like a real reporter. I just got off the phone with Dom Kelly, the website guy for the IRB. After I got over being excited to talk to a real British person again (I miss my funny talking coaches of days past! I miss living in the UK!), we got right down to business. He sent out a style guide and stipulations and requirements for the press reports. He sent my accreditation to the media office. I'll have a press pass, a media liaison, wireless internet, food, a laptop station, the works! I feel jittery and excited. I wonder what they'll serve to eat!
I realized as I was talking to him how absolutely ridiculous I sound. Here is the first part of our conversation:
D: You're only getting here midnight on Monday? And you have to be at the stadium at 1030 on Tuesday?
K: Yep. I'm flying in from Pittsburgh, PA.
D: Is that very far from Alberta?
(geographical banter...)
D: So you don't have the address where you're staying and you don't have directions to the pitch and you won't have a phone while you're here?
K: I was going to sort all that out when I woke up in the morning...I do have the promise of a couch to sleep on with some rugby girls...I hoped they would give me directions.
In any sort of universe other than a rugby one, the media manager would probably question the credibility of said reporter. I am hoping this person understands that rugby people wouldn't lead me astray. A promise of a couch is a promised couch and those girls will get me and my rental car where I need to be on time. (As I have done for many wayward travelers on rugby weekends past)
This takes me back to the bus station in Exeter, when I stood with loads of luggage and a confused look on my little freckled face. As chance would have it, one of my future professors happened to be sauntering by en route to the rugby club. He saw my Ireland jersey, heard me speak, and saved the day. If I can trust old former flyhalves to rescue me on the street in a foreign land, to buy me pints of cider and introduce me to a team to join, I have full confidence that the Edmonton ladies will be just as amazing. I SHOULD have told Dom: "Not to worry. Everything is taken care of and I will ring you at 9am to check in."
That's what a seasoned, actual reporter would do. Hopefully my bags won't get lost and I can meet him and dazzle him with my professionalism.
Oh god. What should I wear? Are rugby clothes appropriate in this scenario? Do I need to repack?
PS--I called him back and am glad I did! He'll be sending an IRB outfit for me! I have an official IRB Press shirt!!!!
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2 comments:
my mom just tacked "killian" onto her full name, no hyphens. that's what i'm planning to do with paul (when he eventually gets around to proposing, which shouldn't be too terribly far away): i think 4 names is not too many, and there are no hyphens involved. especially for you with two one-syllable last names - our mothers' maiden name is two syllables, and my mom's last name is now three...you'd have 7 syllables total among the 4 names, my mom has 8, and i'll have 8 or 9 (depending on if you count my first name as 2 or 3 syllables). 7 syllables sounds good to me...i'm looking forward to finding out what you decide!
don't listen to the math geek - you'll only have six syllables!!
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