Robert Young

The past several weeks have been, indeed, crunch time for my latest project. With only three football games left on the home schedule, I’ve had to hustle to gather the information I need for my Game Day with the Oregon Ducks book. During the weeks, I interviewed key people involved in game day. And then, on the day of the games, I observed, took notes, and interviewed some more. Luckily, I had a great research assistant, so we could divide up the game day work.

To date, I have hours of recorded interviews and a stack of pages filled with notes. Oh, did I mention photos? I’ve got more than 3,000 shots done by the talented Jack Liu. We’ll be needing between 40 and 50 for the book, so there’ll be tons of editing to do. And we’re not done gathering, either. Jack still has more photos to take, and I’ve got interviews and follow-ups to do.

When all that’s completed, the writing comes. I have a good idea as to the format since I’m using my baseball Game Day book as a model. But, there will be differences with this book. It’ll be more specific to one team (the baseball book was more generic), and it will include more facts. I’ve even played with style and tone, but that’s really getting ahead of things. Still, it’s fun, and writing does not have to follow a strict linear path.

Here are some photos I took as I researched. These will be helpful reminders as I recall my observations and experiences.

Band warm-up, by groups

Special teams’ mat

Setting up the sideline

Coaches’ headsets

Five minutes to kickoff

Revving up the Harley

Halftime interview with the coach

A few years back, I wrote Game Day, a behind-the scenes look at a major league baseball game. I was pleased with how the book turned out, and at the positive response it got. Since then, I’ve been exploring other venues for behind-the-scenes looks. I completed one manuscript, Around the Clock at an Aquarium, that it now being marketed. Another idea percolating was a college football game.

Last spring I, along with Mighty Oregon magazine publisher Jerry Thompson, approached the University of Oregon to get the permission needed to gain access for the information I’d have to have. Permission did not come lightly. It took lining up a publisher (QSL) and obtaining a license. These took eight painstaking months.

Last week I got the official go-ahead and flew into action. Armed with media passes for my research assistant (Ava Litton) and me, we attended the UO vs. Cal game. The journey officially began. We met in the press box with the photographer for the project, Jack Liu, and brainstormed image possibilities. Then we were off, in and around the stadium, observing the goings-on.

The fantabulous Jack Liu, with his homemade camera rain protector.

Spectators had not be admitted yet, but there was lots going on. The band practiced, the bench areas were set up, the photographers connected their computers and readied them for uploading their pictures. Some of the players were on the field, stretching, running, and playing catch.

Linebacker Rodney Hardrick does his pre-game warm-up, despite the distraction.

Thanks to the generous help of Dave Williford, head of football communications, we got oriented to the many facets (and there are many!) of the press box. Thinking about all the behind-the-scenes parts of a game was a bit overwhelming, but we’ll have two more games to gather info. There’s also time during the week to interview people.

Starting Monday after the game, I got on it and have made contact with some players as well as the head athletic trainer, equipment manager, guys in charge of the food, and the head of tickets. There’s lots more to go, but the flow of information has started. The challenge before the next game is to replay the interview tapes and take notes. I’ll be making a timeline of game day to help me organize the information.

There’s lots of helmet choices.

Locker-room living-room

Gratefully, I’ll have all winter to work on the writing part. I’ll need it!

So, we’re hurtling down the narrow highway in a mini-bus—a marshrutka—on the way to Stepantsminda, a small town near Georgia’s border with Russia. We’re packed in tight, Tyler and I taking up two of the four back row seats. Any other seat would have been preferable, but people claimed them before us, and they paid by having to sit in blistering heat while we waited outside in the shade.

Tyler has the window seat and I sit with the aisle in front of me, which provides a little stretching area since the fold-down seat that would fill that space is the only seat unfilled. On the other side of me sits a middle-aged man, thick and glowering. He staked out his territory early, opening his legs as far as his chubby hips allow. I, however, won the shoulder battle, and rested my back against the seat while he leaned forward.

Two hours into the ride, the driver brakes hard and swerves onto the shoulder of the road. He talks excitedly on his cell phone, then slams the gearshift into reverse and starts backing down the highway. BACKING DOWN THE HIGHWAY! This is not just a little country road with no traffic. This is a highway with cars and trucks whizzing by, most of them blowing their horns at us.

Unaffected by the horn blasts, the driver continues, using his side mirrors to guide his erratic path. The response from inside the bus is silence, except for the guy sitting in front of us who snorts with laughter. My heart is racing and my breathing shallow as I imagine a fiery death for us all, except for the idiot driver who will most likely be thrown to safety. Isn’t that the way these things usually go?

We continue on—backwards—not for a hundred yards or two, but for several miles. When the bus finally comes to a stop, the driver jumps out and races to the back of the vehicle, where he greets an old bearded man walking along the road. The driver ushers the man to the side of the bus, pulls open the sliding door, and points to the only available space, the fold-down seat in front of me.

The bearded man slowly surveys his sole seat option as well as the mass of humanity inside the bus. He speaks to the driver in Georgian and the driver responds, their voices rising over the sounds of the cars and trucks whooshing by us. And then, the driver slams the door closed, gets back behind the wheel, and drives as the man watches us leave. Forward. At last.

I stretch my legs out into the empty space in front of me and wonder how many more hours until we reach our destination.

You never know where the winds of interest will blow the writing fires. I have reveled in the vast lands of nonfiction most of my writing life, but I’ve also braved the world of novels, short stories, plays, and poetry as well. Lately, I have entered an area in which I have always had interest: screen writing.

This is not my first experience with this type of writing. Years back, I took a screenwriting class, got enthused, and wrote a few Seinfeld scripts that landed me an agent but no sales. “It’s written in-house,” the agent told me. “If you want to write scripts, write an original screenplay (= movie).”

I grumbled, groused, and then moved on to other projects that excited me. Years passed, and then one day I was in Seattle, visiting a friend and viewing a few Mariner baseball games. As usual during that time, the Mariners were not doing too well and the papers reported that the team was considering firing their manager.

What if? I thought. What if they decided to hire a nonprofessional—just a regular guy who coached kids—to finish out the season? And what if this guy was having challenges of his own at the time?

These questions became the seeds for my story, and the tagline (every movie has one) became “A man takes on baseball. And himself.”

I thought about this for a year, and for the past six months I have worked at trying to transport it from my head to paper. Along the way I have read books on the craft (including the technical aspects of the genre), read other screenplays, watched lots of movies, and took copious notes.

What I enjoyed was the spare nature of the writing: it’s mostly dialogue and some directions, but little room for description. That also makes it challenging, too. Descriptions help you create context and make smooth transitions.

Last week I finished the first draft, one hundred fifteen pages of it. Like every first draft I have ever done, there was relief involved, relief that the story had held together to its conclusion. Is the story any good? I don’t know. Really, I don’t. I have printed it out and set it aside. At some point in time—a week, a month, five years—I’ll return to the script, this time with fresh eyes and I’ll read it.

And then I’ll get to work, the real work, of rewriting it. How long will that take? I don’t have a clue. A couple weeks. A month. A year. As long as it takes, until I’m satisfied.

And then what? Then, I’ll try to find a home for it, a home where the script can be made into a movie. This will be a daunting task, indeed, and the odds will be long. Maybe not as long as singing at the Met or batting cleanup for the Orioles, but the chances of my script ever being made into a movie are slim.

So, why take the time to work on such a project in the first place, when the odds are clearly against you and where other avenues of writing provide you with a much better chance for success? The answer is simple: You never know. You just never know.

What’s better than a room full of 8-12 year-olds on a summer afternoon? A room full of 8-12 year-olds making their own chewing gum!

That was the scene yesterday at the Springfield Library in Springfield, Oregon. It was part of their Tween program that offers kids a variety of events during the summer. I was honored to have been invited to share my gum research and the book – Chomp! A Chewer’s Guide to Gum – that resulted from my work.

Chomp! is not my first encounter with gum. My very first book for kids, published by Dillon Press in 1989, was The Chewing Gum Book. It was the first kids’ book written on the topic. Chomp! is the updated version. It’s got more information, color, and variety. It’s more reader-friendly.

I shared some gum history with the kids, including the story of how the first modern gum came to be with the help of General Santa Anna from Mexico as well as the American inventor, Thomas Adams. I also talked about how gum has helped save lives, solve crimes, and inspired art.

In addition to making gum (there are kits available for this – see http://www.gleegum.com/make-your-own-gum-kit.htm) I led them through the process of creating gum art. We made a sculpture out of chewed gum. When sealed, the sculpture will be on display at the library. Beautiful!

Chewing gum is a worldwide phenomenon that is rich with possibilities for the classroom. I am currently finishing up with activities that can be used with Chomp! with third to fifth grade classes. Stay tuned!

In the meantime, check out the pics from the library event.

Okay, so my posts have been a bit sporadic this last month. I have a reason: travel. Colombia, to be exact. My son’s living down there, so I visited him and we did some exploring of the country.

So, what’s this have to do with writing? Plenty! Travel, or for that matter, any type of experience, is fodder for writing. Going places and doing things provide the foundation for finding out more (= research) and/or sharing the experiences through the written word.

There’s lots to write about from my recent trip: the bustling metropolis of Bogota, population eight million; the predawn hike up 1,100 steps to the church atop Monserrate on Easter weekend; a steam train ride to the famous salt mine in Nemocon.

I could write about visiting Medellin, the city of “eternal spring.” That’s an improvement of what it used to be: the home of the country’s most infamous drug lord. I could also write about visiting the small islands located in the Carribbean that we visited: San Andres and Providencia. We had plenty of experiences there: hot humid weather, interesting foods, snorkeling around a sunken ship and coral reefs, and seeing all kinds of wonderful fish, including rays and barracuda. On the smaller island (Providencia) we rented bikes and rode around the island, and had money stolen on an “empty” beach while we swam.

So, while I was having a grand time in new places, I was also gathering information and experiences to write about. I have plenty of notes and lots of pictures to help me when I’m ready to write. It may be weeks, months, or even years.

El Pico on Providencia

Up close with the fish – San Andres