Inside The Arena Video Craze At The Arena, Tech World Runs The Video Show; From Replays To Crowd Mugs, Everyone Watches ‘The Wall’

The Spokane Arena’s Inland Northwest Hall of Fame heralds the achievements of local sports legends.

The Arena’s Wall of Fame heralds the rest of us.

On the 15-by-20-foot video screen on the west wall, ordinary hockey fans, some in costume, appear electronically. There’s Referee Man, always dressed as an official; facepaint girl; and a few dancing spectators who freeze instantly when they see themselves on screen.

“Put us on the wall,” others yell as the cameraman sweeps the crowd.

“That’s us,” they hoot, when he does.

Now they’re doing the Wave. They’re dancing. They’re proposing marriage.

“Our first date was to a hockey game,” says fan Clyde Hargens as all eyes and ears turn to his image on the wall. “Will you marry me?” “Yes,” Marjean Fisk says, covering her face with her hands as her blush is broadcast at a Chiefs hockey game on a recent Saturday.

“They always have to say yes,” says Kurt Meyer who from his booth overhead directs the cameraman to hold the shot.

“Not on the Montel show,” technician Casey Booey retorts. But this is the Spokane Show, live at the Arena video wall, where instant replays, celebrity clips and live crowd shots are the stars.

“People love to see themselves on TV and that video wall is the biggest TV in Spokane,” says producer Dave Pier, vice president of marketing and advertising for the Chiefs.

Here, a clip from the movie “The Blues Brothers” opens hockey games. Three couples have publicly pledged their troth. And when a third-period penalty puts the crowd in an ugly mood, technicians dispel it with the video clip of the song “YMCA.”

“Young man, there’s no need to feel down,” the lyrics exhort, as fans begin forming letters with their bodies, the penalty on the ice forgotten.

“It’s hard to be negative and screaming when everyone around you is dancing,” says Pier.

Sometimes, a hockey game even breaks out on the wall. Four cameramen follow the puck and goal area so that people in food lines, suites and locker rooms can watch the game and instant replays. Game officials have even reviewed clips during intermission to see whether a call was correct.

But in between hockey, it’s M-TV - M as in Mug. More cute kids and face paint than you knew existed. But you won’t see any fights, beer commercials or - for that matter - decent shots of the other lineup.

Every time the Chiefs emerge from the locker room, Meyer calls to his “tunnel cam” man.

“This is where you get the Chiefs to look real big and puffy,” the director says as they appear with MTV-like effects and loving close-ups.

But when the Portland Winter Hawks emerge, all you see a graphic that says “Chiefs vs. Hawks.”

“The slant is very home-team,” Booey says with a laugh. “We’re not neutral by any means.”

In the booth they call Tech World, Booey, Meyer and sound man Mike Tucker work with the event’s producer, in this case Pier. Music and sound effects were part of Coliseum events and are still provided in another booth by Mike Lindskog.

But the new screen takes their impact further: with film clips, music videos and mood setting.

The techies play the crowd like a puck.

“If we’ve got a real good crowd that reacts, we can whip them into a frenzy,” said Booey.

A penalty called against Portland brings on a clip of David Letterman. “That’s a damn shame,” he says. The crowd roars.

Inside the booth, everybody wears headsets. Meyer has a great view of the ice, which he never looks at. He’s watching three cameras, two monitors and a computer screen, directing the cameramen, deciding which shot will be chosen, previewing it and then instantly broadcasting.

He seems to be a step ahead of the game, foreseeing plays before they happen, tensing or calling for coverage of a goal seconds before it occurs. He’s also following a script, clicking icons on public service announcements and graphics on a computer screen he hardly glances at.

Booey is buried behind his own wall of equipment, recording plays off super VHS, clicking on a 100-item menu of movie clips and videos and producing them as requested - all while watching the camera shots.

Pier is in the corner, communicating with other Chiefs crew members on a hand-held radio and firing orders into his headset like a slapshot.

“I didn’t say kill the Scouts,” he says, lest a reporter misunderstand. “I said lose the Scouts” as the camera lingers on visiting Boy Scouts.

“Waste the Scouts,” Meyer acquiesces, blipping them from the screen.

The banter belies a tense, almost whispered atmosphere in which nobody takes a drink, goes to the restroom or otherwise moves for more than three hours.

Tucker had worked sound in the Coliseum. Meyer, a Gonzaga University graduate, was a veteran sports and news producer and director for the NBC affiliate in Honolulu, and Booey had his own computer graphics company when they were hired through the civil service for the Arena. (The city of Spokane manages operations for the Arena.)

The three helped build the system, physically and creatively. They picked up the new equipment in their own truck and installed their own cables. The $500,000 system with its 16-panel screen is a leap for Spokane, but it doesn’t have everything. Meyer must verbally command cameras to remain on for instance, because the budget didn’t allow the electronic option that would do it automatically.

Video screens have traditionally been used for replays and messaging, but the tech team saw the potential beyond. After the first night of the Wrangler ProRodeo Classic, they created music videos of local cowboys bucking to Garth Brooks. The videos then opened the second and third shows.

Following a tight script and the wishes of the event’s producers, they’ve navigated a steep learning curve and very public bloopers.

“Everybody sees your mistakes,” Meyer says.

Booey sighs, relieved, as he barely catches a Chiefs goal on tape. Sometimes, replaying an earlier goal, he’s missed the action. Other times, jokes fall flat - a clip of Jim Carrey on a recent night - as the punch line comes too late. And they can’t be too funny or it causes technical problems in the field.

Explains a cameraman:

“The cameras are on our shoulder and if we’re laughing we can’t keep a still shot.”

, DataTimes ILLUSTRATION: 2 color photos