So you think we media weenies just show up out of the blue and get to cover all these sports events, huh?
We have to submit to months of interrogations in dark, dank rooms by big fat guys armed with truth serums and other drugs who are hired by organizing committees that only want us to write the stories they want us to write.
Of course, we never do write the stories they want us to write. We write what actually happens, even if their event is about as poorly run as a day-care trip to the zoo.
But anyway, I have covered thousands of big events over my journalistic career, including Stanley Cup finals, Olympic Games, world championships, pope visits, federal elections, Royal visits and ribbon-cutting ceremonies.
And for all such big events, we need to get media passes.
And to obtain such passes, we need to disclose everything about the length and breadth of us, including our most intimate details from political leanings to religious beliefs to communicable diseases.
The end result, as illustrated partly below, are media credentials we need to carry around our necks, as though we're cattle or something, that make us (or me, at least), look like total dweebs.
Don't laugh too hard!
I don't usually look this bad...REALLY! But I think making you look bad is one of the organizing committees' mandates...