ATHLETICSITE.COM welcomes three more new clients this summer

Lees-McRae College (Banner Elk, North Carolina), Pfeiffer University (Misenheimer, North Carolina), and Tusculum College (Greeneville, Tennessee) have signed contracts to bring the total number of ATHLETICSITE.COM clients to 35.

Tusculum is a member of the South Atlantic Conference, where we have five other schools and the conference itself as a client. Pfeiffer and Lees-McRae are members of Conference Carolinas, joining Belmont Abbey College and Coker College as Conference Carolinas members to partner with us.

Pfeiffer's new SID is Sean Fox, a Catawba graduate whom I've worked with during South Atlantic Conference championship festival events in Rock Hill/Fort Mill. He reminded me of a particularly eventful couple of evenings at Knights Stadium at the SAC baseball tournament.

Former Newberry College baseball coach Tim Medlin was a stickler for having everything just right at the baseball diamond. Field was the picture of perfection; lights were to be turned on just before you even realized you needed them--you know, like a professional or semiprofessional ballpark would do ... or NOT.

He had trained me well, so this particular evening I was operating the fancy scoreboard in the same room where the light controls were. The previous night I had watched a guy in an official-looking polo and khaki pants show someone how to turn on the lights: turn on one set, wait three minutes, turn on another set and so forth to avoid the mass consumption of energy that would occur if all lights were switched on at once. I had it down. It's nearing 7 p.m. in May, and Coach Medlin would have already turned on the lights around 6:30, so by my estimation it was past time to turn them on. I carefully followed the procedures I'd seen the night before and the game progressed smoothly with a lit field.

The field was not the only thing that I had lit. Mr. Official-Polo-And-Khakis came storming down the hall, asking in each press box, "Who turned on the lights? WHO turned on the LIGHTS?" Since I had heard the question before, and I knew the answer, I was prepared when he got to my box.

"WHO turned on the LIGHTS?"
"I turned on the lights."
"Why?"
"Because it was dark."
"Who told you to turn the lights on?"
"Well, the DARK SKY was a clue."
"Don't touch these lights any more. Do you know how much this is going to cost us, turning these lights on early? Who's going to pay for that?"
"I could turn them back OFF for a little bit. Would that make you happy?"
He stormed off with words I dare not repeat. Oh well, I was over it ... live and learn, lesson learned. Don't touch the lights in Knights Stadium. I had a chance to exercise that newfound knowledge the very next night.

7 p.m. rolls around and I'm thinking, "Medlin would already have these lights on." By 7:15 the umpires were looking toward the lights, and then toward the pressbox as if to say "someone should be turning on lights soon." Fans started looking toward the lights with the same implication. Next half inning the umpires signal to the press box that the lights should be turned on. I'd love to do it, but, you know ... he he he, I'm Pete Rose up here with a lifetime ban. They get finished with that half inning--in the dark, mind you--and the officials SUSPEND PLAY until the lights are turned on. Somebody finally tracks down Mr. Official-Polo-And-Khakis, and here he comes, storming down the hall with as much aplomb as the night before. Since there was no score for me to keep, I sat facing the electrical panel to watch MOPAK "do his magic" and turn on the lights himself. He asks no one in particular, "Why didn't someone tell me they wanted the lights on?"

I replied, "I would have, but I figured we needed to make up for the extra lights that we burned last night." Good knight, everyone!