When Everything Goes Wrong

In the words of the greatest, most inspirational musical group in the history of music, "I'll tell ya what I want what I really, really want."  And at 6:01 p.m. Monday evening, all I wanted was a little box to come up next to our lead package in the rundown that said "online."

Well, the box didn't show up for a few minutes after that, and unfortunately, we didn't have a comeback quite as glamorous or glitter-filled as the Spice Girls at the London 2012 Olympics.

For the first time as lead producer, I experienced a train wreck.  It wasn't just that our lead package didn't come in.  And it wasn't just the fact that one of our anchors was missing their IFB.  It wasn't that the graphics for all of the A-block mysteriously disappeared.  And it wasn't just that half of the sports stories, including those in the A-block, were not written.  No, it wasn't just any one of these things.  It was a collective mess.  My collective mess.

And while I may have shed a few tears and sweat out my frustration at Soul Cycle for hours after the screens went dark and the crew journeyed home, I couldn't be happier that it happened.

Happy?  Yes, you heard me correctly.  Happy.

Experiencing an absolute train wreck in the newsroom is like seeing a unicorn and a car crash at the same time.  It's this mystical disaster that you can't help but turn your eyes away from. As the lead producer, the steering wheel was in my hand.  After many jarring hair-pin turns, screeching breaking and some massive speed bumps, at 6:30 p.m. I pulled into parking garage bruised, battered and even, dare I say, a little bit defeated.

We had talked about what to do in those situations.  We had discussed "Plan B's" and what buttons to push and who to tell, but until I was in that moment, I couldn't quite grasp what it meant to power through and come out on the other side.

It reminded me of learning how to drive in Colorado snow.  My driving instructor could tell me time and time again, "If you hit ice, don't pump your breaks!  When in snow and sliding, turn your wheel away from the busy side of traffic!  Whatever you do, do not try and turn off your car!"

It wasn't until I was sliding down a hill at 30 miles-per-hour and stopped only by a giant fence and an exploding airbag that I realized, well shoot, that's what I needed to do.

All of the obstacles of the newscast were my snowy hill.  The end of the show, my fence.  The entire experience?  Well, that was my big time learning event of the semester.

But, why wouldn't I want to have that experience?  I'm 21-years-old and I can say, "I survived my first runaway train as a producer!" Not everyone can say that.  In fact, you, reading this, may be jealous that you haven't had a similar experience.  All I can say is, "Don't worry little one!" One day, you too, can end the newscast with your face in the palm of your hand! 

I'd rather have had this experience now rather than later.  I had it now, in a prime learning environment where I have leadership and guidance about how to make it better next time.  Producing is a class for a reason.  It's all about learning, and I can assure you that where the learning is concerned, I'm getting a big dose of it.  And that's the way it should be.

My main things I learned through it all:

1) Don't start off the day saying, "This could be an award-winning show!" That will surely jinx you and leave you experiencing the furthest thing from award-winning.

2) Communication. Communication. Communication.  You can never have too many refresher courses in the subject of communicating.

3) Be wary of relying on the last minute to see you through.  Eventually, luck will run out.

For Monday's show, it was the fourth time our lead package was not in before the opening credits rolled.  Fortunately, the other three times were saved by our editing guru Tom.  As a weekend trip to Vegas once taught me, the odds were not in my favor this time around.

So, we failed.  What next?  All I can say is that if I had the chance to do it again, there'd be a million things I would change.  But for now, I'll just have to wait until my next time at bat.

In the meantime, I'll just listen to "Spice Up Your Life."