Reznet

New England Patriots quarterback Tom Brady waves to sports reporters on Super Bowl XLII Media Day. (Reznet reporter Candace Begody is part of crowd at left.) AP Photo/Charlie Riedel

What Tom Brady Thinks of Native Americans

By Candace Begody

GLENDALE, Ariz.—Part of the Super Bowl experience for sports journalists around the world is attending Media Day, which was held Tuesday at the University of Phoenix Stadium here.

To my surprise, it was more of a freak show than anything else. And the real story didn't seem to be about the New England Patriots or the New York Giants. If anything, the football players had more of a sense of normalcy, despite their elite status.

As I sit back now and think about what I was preparing for the night before—aggressive veteran journalists and the macho men from the National Football League, plus their egos—there was no way to have prepared for just how bizarre people were.

This petite, 5-foot-4, 20-year-old Navajo girl had never covered anything like the Super Bowl before, so every little thing, it seemed, turned out to be a big deal, including my attire.

Not wanting to overdress, I slipped into my best jeans. And not wanting to be underdressed, I covered my back with a blue and white stripped button-up blouse for a more sophisticated and classy look to match my adorable Nomi Brittany heels.

Set to go with my Nikon D80 and White Mac at my side, I raced out of Tucson, Ariz., beating the sun and heavy morning traffic, while blasting the speakers to the "Rocky" soundtrack. Because as far as I was concerned, this was my fight—I imagined I would have to claw my way to the front of the pack in order for any of the players to even look my way.

It was stuck in my head, where I need to go, what I need to do: As soon as I get into the city limits, take 202 East, then hit 101 North, get off on 202 West and hit 7th Street to Washington. Find a parking space as close as possible and as cheap as possible.

It worked. About 140 miles later, I was relieved to have made it a bit early and began slowing my pace until I stood in front of Chase Field, the baseball park. How in the world did I confuse the baseball park for the football field?

With only 20 minutes until the start of, in the words of Navajo Times publisher Tom Arviso, "the-only-time-you'll-get-to-interview-all-the-players" day, I raced four-blocks back to my car and out of the garage.

It started out rough, but having finally made it to the stadium, 10 minutes late, I rushed out with the Nikon and my bag of four notebooks and three pens (I also didn't know how many notes I would be taking).

Before entering the stadium, I went through airport-like security. I was searched and even patted down before finally being cleared to meet the NFL stars. Atop the stadium, I finally allowed myself a much-needed deep breath to calm a racing heart and sigh of relief. Down below on the sideline, the media frenzy was in full swing.

Journalists from ESPN, FOX News, Sporting News Radio, The Associated Press, international news organizations and many more rushed around with cameras on their shoulders, many with their recorders pointed in the air at the players. The journalists were all trying to get one good quote.

I watched my step as I carefully made my way down the stairs to keep from falling because of my (literally) shaking knees and ankles weak from nervousness. I was hundreds of steps closer to my story. Hundreds of people walked shoulder to shoulder on the sideline. I blended in with the crowd and acted as though I too owned the place.

Suddenly, there went Deion Sanders in a nifty suit. My eyes followed him wanting to ask for a hug, an autograph, something. But trying to maintain my professionalism, I stayed away and focused on the story that I needed.

Not even 10 minutes had passed when I stopped at the podium where Patriots defensive lineman Richard Seymour was sitting. The words of one of my journalism instructors came to mind: "Don't be afraid to just sit back and observe." So here, where there weren't so many people pushing and shoving to get a quote, I stood.

As I listened to Seymour answer reporters' questions and I tried to make sense of it all, I paid close attention to his facial expressions. Just as I was about to turn away to head to Patriots quarterback Tom Brady's podium, Seymour looked at me and then down to my ... unbuttoned blouse.

With the rush of things, the blouse that I had particularly picked out had let me down and now made me feel embarrassed: One of my buttons had come undone. My eyes widened as I slowly turned away and quickly buttoned up my top two buttons.

I took yet another deep breath. I was about ready to find my focus again. Suddenly, there went the fabulous, overexcited and quite snooty R&B singer Ciara with a mic in her hand. I'm not much of a fan myself, but my younger sister Lekeisha is. Man, 'Keisha would love to be here right now, I thought.

Having roamed awhile again, going from player to player, I heard a woman ranting and screaming, "Michael!" She was calling Michael Strahan's name.

Sitting on a player's shoulder was country singer Kellie Pickler yelling at the Giants' defensive end to take her CD. (Pickler, a former "American Idol" contestant, is the Super Bowl correspondent for "The Tonight Show With Jay Leno.") Listen to "Red High Heels" as a pre-game song, she yelled.

There was only one word to describe Ciara and Pickler: di tsxiz, roughly translated to "ditsy" in Navajo.

And how could anyone forget the journalist from Mexico City who wore a mid-thigh-high wedding dress with red pumps and a garter to strap up her white panty hose? Her dark hair and way too much make-up made her look like someone who just came out of a "Bride of Chucky" movie audition. And I was concerned with whether I was under- or overdressed...

Lifted high in the air, she screamed to catch Brady's attention. When she did, she made a wedding proposal to Brady, saying she was the "real Mrs. Tom Brady."

Brady replied by saying, "I have a few Mrs. Tom Brady's in my life," and then, "I'm a one-woman man."

In a later and much shorter episode, she proposed to New York Giants quarterback Eli Manning, who told her he was "taken."

After all of the chaos, with crazy people here and there, I finally got the chance to see what all the fuss was about with Tom Brady and Eli Manning.

I put on my mean face, stuck out my elbows and went in for the kill. I managed to squeeze to the front of all the reporters, photographers and cameramen to talk with Brady.

He knew very little about the tribes in Arizona (and Native Americans in general), but said he just hoped that the Native Americans would support the Patriots the way they do the Cardinals.

His killer grin in person is more spellbinding than what you see in the papers, on TV or on the Internet.

Manning didn't seem to get caught up in the excitement. He smiled and laughed but seemed to be more focused on how he's going to work with his team better than his opposing quarterback to win a Super Bowl championship.

Though I got a chance to meet others from both teams such as Michael Strahan (who adores Alicia Keys), Rodney Harrison of the Patriots, New England's Randy Moss and more, these are the ones who again (literally) made my knees shake wildly.

In the end, I failed to remember that these were people too. Just because they are stars. it doesn't mean I have to hold them on a pedestal. I can ask questions and talk to them like human beings.

And for those scary reporters, yeeyah (Navajo for "yikes"). I also forgot that they too were people trying to get a story like me.

[EDITOR'S NOTE: To find reznet reporter Candace Begody in the above photo, find the big speaker at left, then go four people forward to the man wearing a dull-red shirt and holding a big TV camera. Directly behind him, in profile, is Begody. In the lower right-hand corner is the TV reporter who showed up in a wedding dress and proposed to Patriots quarterback Tom Brady.]

Candace Begody, Navajo, is a student at the University of Arizona, Tucson. She is a graduate of the Freedom Forum's 2007 American Indian Journalism Institute and interned as a reporter at the Missoulian newspaper in Missoula, Mont.