David Lee Roth - another gifted ADHD beneficiary - used to refer to Van Halen's music as a mix of "religion and hockey." Their stage show included nine full semi trucks (almost as many as Rogue Barbell!) and a contract as thick as a phone book.
Van Halen was one of the first major acts to play in third-tier venues: smaller cities who couldn't usually get the major bands. This was part of their marketing strategy, and it ensured sellouts on every tour stop. It also meant dealing with promoters who had never handled bands as big as Van Halen before.
To that end, Roth itemized every single item necessary for a successful show in a massive contract. Buried in that contract was the infamous "M&Ms Clause": backstage before and during every show, the band absolutely required large bowls full of M&Ms candy within easy reach. Further, the brown M&Ms were to be removed before the band arrived at the venue.
Failure to comply with this clause - or any other in the massive list - could result in the band cancelling the show and keeping the money. In fact, they did cancel once, citing the M&Ms clause, in Denver.
The M&Ms clause became a renowned example of the band's excesses. However, Roth had a reason for the clause that went far beyond a taste for chocolate: if, upon arrival backstage, he noticed that the brown M&Ms hadn't been removed from the large bowls of candy, then he knew that the contract hadn't been followed line by line. And if the M&Ms were wrong...what else had been missed? Roth would immediately insist on checking every tiny detail in the contract to ensure the band's safety. After all, the smell of scorched lycra and hairspray isn't nice.
In my powerlifting days, I had the very lucky occasion to handle different athletes at some Nationals-level events. While powerlifting is slowly growing, the number of federations (leagues,) records, rules, and competitions is exploding at a much greater rate. Where a competitive powerlifter may have focused on 2-3 meets per year a few decades ago, it's now easy to reach a meet at least monthly. This has meant that many new meets are taken on by amateur promoters: folks who are very enthusiastic about their sport, but perhaps haven't had the experience of coordinating a complicated, multi-day event yet.
The events I visited (and competed in myself) happened in a wide range of locations: high school gyms, large hotel conference centres, and - yes - prison. The location was no guarantee of the quality, and the level of competition wasn't always enough to guarantee close attention to minor details. In a sport noted for its subjectivity, even backstage equipment and setup differ from venue to venue. It's not uncommon for lifters to go without solid warmups during a meet, as the number of racks, bars, and plate are too little for the hundreds of competitors.
The brown M&Ms in a powerlifting warmup pit? 5lbs plates. If you couldn't find any, you wonder what else the promoter had skimped on....
And so, in our initial trip through the Home Depot Centre, my eyes were looking for the CrossFit equivalent of the 5lbs plates. I was peering closely, looking for brown M&Ms that could affect the performance - and safety - of the athlete with whom I was travelling. As a great powerlifting coach once told me: "The job of the Coach is to make things perfect for the athlete on competition day." In other words, my role was not to instruct on technique any longer, but to remove potential distractions and obstacles to success.
We saw a long registration line...but Annie Thorisdottir held a side door open for us.
We were required to wear Reebok....but the Reebok we were given was far above and beyond what anyone had expected.
We had to show up a day early to register....but were treated to an amazing meal, short speeches, and free beer in a room jammed with the best in the world.
We competed in a secondary venue...but the Master's event ran on time, to the minute, for fifteen hours per day, with more than enough judges, and great commentary from Johnny Mac and Jeff Tincher.
Clean and plentiful bathrooms, despite the sellout crowd. Sheriffs who remarked on how well-behaved the crowd seemed. Wifi for 7 bucks. A sold-out stadium, gorgeous track, monkey bars, ESPN, the "sleep area" in the tunnel, famous elbows to rub, and an after-party for six thousand people. No brown M&Ms.
From the chatter on facebook, you may have believed that promises weren't being kept: there were problems with streaming and audio. From a few posters - who were too cool to be at the Games, but were anyway - you may have believed that some minor quirks were real issues. They weren't. For the athletes, the Games were smooth. For the spectators, they were flawless. Thank you, CrossFit.
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