As all of this was going on, my co-worker was trying to explain to me that the guys in the front row consisted of a producer, a director, an associate director, and a technical director (or the switchboard operator). These guys were in charge of making sure the correct camera angles were used and were in constant contact with the announcers to give ideas on what to discuss during the live broadcast. As the directors spoke to the camera operators and the technical director, the producer would simultaneously call out for stats and graphics to be put on the screen. The guys in the back row were creating those graphics and compiling the stats as needed and then pushing a button that said “show” on their computers in order to show the graphic on the broadcast.

My co-worker also explained that behind a door in the back of the truck were the tape guys and the EVS, or Elvis Operator. He said you could think of the machine they work with as a “super TiVo” and he explained that their job was to listen to the producer and run highlight packages and pre-produced pieces such as interviews when cued to do so.

I was not only taken aback that these individuals knew how to work with such technology, but that they could manage so many things at one time and work together on a live broadcast with so much precision. As my co-worker and I left the truck, he explained to me that the best way to describe it was organized chaos. That may be the case, but I can guarantee you I will never watch a sporting event the same way because I now realize that every stat, graphic, camera position, and many of the comments made by the announcers are coming from people that are hard at work in the very trucks that I have been passing for so many years.

Though the interworking of the broadcast truck could easily be described as organized chaos, it seemed like poetry in motion to me.