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When The Boss Calls, A Reporter Answers

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By ROB SHAW

rshaw@tampatrib.com

Published: February 2, 2009

TAMPA - It brought a new meaning to the lyrics "Born to Run."

When one gets swept up between high school cheerleaders and middle-age mothers whose teenage daughters are embarrassed that their moms are on national TV, there's only one thing to do. Run.

Oh, and try not to get trampled.

I was trying to talk to some of the 2,000 people in the halftime extravaganza a couple of minutes before the show, as they were lining up, when a couple of them said I should join the show, but (a) I had no armband, (b) I certainly didn't attend any rehearsals, (c) I wasn't a lifelong Bruce Springsteen fan and (d) I have never visited or even wanted to visit New Jersey.

None of that mattered.

Soon there was no time to think about it, and two people grabbed my arm and off we went, storming onto the field as the crowd went crazy around us. We ended up about 40 feet offstage, a sea of bodies pressed into a small space as the half-moon shone above us and flashlights from the more than 70,000 spectators winked and blinked at us. Just ahead, The Boss and Clarence Clemons stood back-to-back, ready to perform for the world.

As long as you knew how to (a) scream, (b) jump up and down, (c) wave your arms in the air and (d) shout key lyrics, you were fine. And try not to get squished, especially on the hurried and harried exit after our short time on a national - make that international - stage.

"That was our 12 minutes," said Jill Engelman of Seminole.

Editor Rob Shaw can be reached at (813) 259-7999.

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