2/2: Security Plan for r’Asadink Tiddlywinks Team — Report for the Arkansas State Police
I have my official gun ban request just about ready. Firearms never have had a place at tiddlywinks games, and they still won’t.
Open season throughout colleges — by holders of concealed weapons permits who also have had up to eight hours of active shooter training — has been curtailed with 859 so guns are not allowed in qualifying athletic facilities.
Not so fast, SEC teams. Signs proclaiming “Reynolds Razorback Stadium” or “Bud Walton Arena” are insufficient. Football’s and basketball’s showrunners have to prove they are sporting events to the Arkansas State Police once a year.
As do all the other structures where sports are played. Including Suite 248, otherwise known as r’Asadink Stadium, Home of Arkansas Table Sports.
Legislators listed what should be detailed in the gun ban request to the state police in Section 9. In preparing the list for r’Asadink, I as coach and caretaker found the process to be a squop, known outside tiddlywinks as a slam-dunk.
A copy of the following will be forwarded to the ASP when they’re ready to take applications. My rationale is found at “Play Games at Work So No Guns.”
(A) Total projected attendance — Capacity is limited only by how many people can crowd around the 48×24-inch felt mat, allowing room for the players of course.
(B) Number of entrances and exits — 1 of each, in college-level math it’s 1 plus 1 equals 1.
(C) Number of on-site private security personnel — Brought by the visiting team.
(D) Number of on-site law enforcement officers — Another new state law — curtailing the transparency ensured by the FOIA — keeps me from divulging details on campus police. Also, this Act 859 states, “A security plan submitted under this section is exempt from public disclosure under the Freedom of Information Act of 1967.” Am I breaking the new law by sharing my security plan? Uh-oh.
(E) Number of on-site first responders — Red Cross CPR card holders get in free.
(F) Location of parking areas and number of motor vehicles projected to use the parking areas — Fans convey themselves along halls, stairs and elevator. Just like the entire university community, how they get here is their problem.
(G) Routes for emergency vehicles — Squad cars and paddy wagons need parking stickers.
(H) Locations of all restrooms, stairs, and elevators — Down the hall. Down the other hall.
(I) Evacuation procedures — Maintenance keeps restrooms supplied
(J) Security communication protocol — Everyone bring their cell.
(K) Location of emergency vehicles — Outside the building.
(L) Public communication protocol — Everyone bring their cell.
(M) Bomb threat and active shooter procedures — Avoid. Deny. Defend.
The legislation’s Section 9 list doesn’t go far enough. As coach, I want the players and fans to be safe. Referees, too. These will assure my ban.
No. 1. r’Asadink Stadium continues to be set in Suite 248. Inconspicuousness is deliberate. Signage should be removable and editable, due to the multipurpose nature of the facility.
No. 2. The no guns signage on the door will be whatever the regulators dictate. Coach/Caretaker has tape, staples, chewing gum. We’ll make it right, right away.
No. 3. As concessions are not sold on premises, outside food and drink is allowed, as long as they’re offered to coaches and officials, and even the players.
No. 4. Because of No. 3, while weapons will continue to be banned, cutlery is allowed, but only sharp enough to cut the cheese.
No. 5. Due to tight space and not because we don’t trust ya, bags, purses and ice chests must be left in the hall. We won’t rifle through them.
No. 6. Umbrellas continue to be verboten. Hey, it’s indoors. If water comes in on the second floor of a three-story building, it’s not rain.
No. 7. Children under 6 are not allowed. All tiddlywinks and tabletop croquet parts are choking hazards.
No. 8. Debates, insults, snark battles, arguments, disputes over referee calls will not be tolerated. Unless they’re more interesting than the game.
No. 9. Spectators will be expected to frisk themselves both on entering and exiting the arena. The coach/caretaker always pats himself down at 248’s door — Where’s my phone? Where’s my keys?
— Copyright 2017 Ben S. Pollock Jr.