‘Our job is to make sure they don’t seriously hurt each other or kill each other,” Pete Kelly, head of security for “The Jerry Springer Show,” says to me.
Anyone who has seen even one episode knows that the beefy men who work security for “Springer” are nameless but indispensable members of the cast.
And I am going to be a security man for the day.
The “Springer Show,” which is taped at a studio in Stamford, Conn., shoots three episodes in one day. Each episode has at least two segments.
As Springer is warming up the audience before the show begins, Kelly gives me an impromptu training session, which consists of a handful of instructions and an air of follow-my-lead.
We walk over to the stage as Kelly points out the places where brawlers could hurt themselves.
PHOTOS: I WAS SPRINGER’S SLINGER
It is my job, at least in the beginning, to get between the guests and the set, I am told. Later, if I prove myself, I will get into the thick of it.
We take our seats — front row, center stage — and wait for the first guests to come out.
Daryll comes on the show to ease the blow of breaking up with his girlfriend, Nicole. She cries too much, he explains.
He is also there to tell her that he had been cheating on her with her hairdresser, Nickell.
As Daryll, who sits on the stage holding a bouquet of flowers, answers Springer’s questions, the crowd boos. I just sit there and wonder how bad the fight can get if it involves a woman with a reputation for crying.
Nicole makes her entrance, and Daryll tells her it’s over and he has been cheating on her.
She slaps him across the face. I look over at Kelly for a cue. He doesn’t stir.
She grabs at the bouquet and tries to rip it from Daryll’s hands. I look at Kelly again. Nothing.
She gets the flowers free from Daryll’s hands and tears them up.
Kelly taps me on the back and whispers: “When we go, grab the chair on the left and move it out of the way.”
At his signal, we go on-stage. I move the chair and watch as the quarreling lovers circle each other.
Another security man, Jason Brandstetter, motions for me to move to the side, and the cameras circle in on a door at the side of the stage through which bursts Nickell, angry hairdresser.
I place myself between the battling ladies and the set as Kelly moves in to separate the fighters.
At one point, Nicole is being dragged across the floor, and I go to tear Nickell’s clenched hand from her arm. But then I remember that they were supposed to be fighting, and I let go.
I step back stage with Brandstetter where we wipe down our arms with antibacterial solution. “We go through this stuff fast,” he tells me.
On to the second segment.
The show preserves a spark of spontaneity by not telling the security guards in advance what each segment will be about.
The stage crew pulls out a spare carpet and lines the sides with dropcloths.
“This is going to be a messy one,” Kelly says. “Looks like a cake fight.”
A mocked-up “wedding cake” is carried out as we take our seats.
A guest named Cheree comes out in a wedding dress and tells Springer that she is a lesbian. She asked her girlfriend, Chocolate, to marry her. The nuptials will take place on the show.
The catch? Chocolate’s sister, Kasha, doesn’t approve of gay marriage.
The aftermath (Matthew McDermott)
Abrahams with security team members (left to right) Pete Kelly, Chris Siapanides, and Jason Brandstetter. (Matthew McDermott )
‘JERRY’ DUTY: Post reporter Matt Abrahams is the casualty of a cake fight as security for Springer. (Matthew McDermott)
(Matthew McDermott)
‘JERRY’ DUTY: Post reporter Matt Abrahams is the casualty of a cake fight as security for Springer. (Matthew McDermott)
(
)
Cheree says she won’t let Kasha stand in the way of her happiness with Chocolate.
Kasha is introduced and starts arguing with Cheree. We hop onstage.
I am instructed to stand behind a trellis as Chocolate, also in a wedding gown, and Cheree prepare to take their vows.
Kasha grabs a cake and hurls it at her sister. It grazes the bride and hits me squarely in the chest. I am covered in frosting as the brawling begins.
When the blows stop and Chocolate and Kasha — each of whom probably has 60 pounds on me — begin arguing toe-to-toe, Kelly positions me like a referee between them.
When it looks as if the brawling is about to start again, he nudges me, to stay between them.
They charge, but I plant my feet on the stage and hold my ground as they struggle to get past me.
“They all seem to be good people,” says Brandsetter afterward. “They have problems, and they figure them out on stage.”
“They’re not problems that any of us don’t have, though,” Kelly adds.
Another security team member, Chris Siapanides, looks at Kelly. “I don’t have those problems,” he says.