M-Pac TV


This is random, and has no time element. But it’s pretty funny, and 100-percent true.

During my junior year at Mahopac High School, a bunch of us started a school TV station—M-Pac TV. We taped basketball and baseball games, did play-by-play and interviews, then ran them on the school’s public access station a few hours later. It was killer fun, and after a while we started broadcasting school plays, school rock concerts, etc. We really thought we were on to something—M-Pac TV would be huge! Giant! Killer!

The year after I graduated, M-Pac TV taped a basketball game between Mahopac and someone. The tape was recycled, and had contained a pornographic film. Nobody was aware of this. Alas, when the game ended, there was a few minutes of static and then, well, lots of naked people having wild sex atop barnyard animals.

It was the end of M-Pac TV.

1 thought on “M-Pac TV”

  1. While I was in college, I did play-by-play for my high school’s baseball games for the local access station. During the regional playoffs, we were in a notoriously hick town 20 miles south on a sweltering day.

    The opposing coach pitched this big kid into extra innings and basically destroyed his arm. I grew more perturbed as the game wore on and mentioned on the air several times.

    After our side finally won in the 10th, we do our signoff and Gus the camera op/technical director gives us the all clear. Still wearing our mics, my broadcast partner and I have this conversation:

    Me: “Let’s just pack up our shit and get out of this hick town.”

    Brian: “I’m ready for a beer. And how about the coach leaving that poor kid in?”

    Me: “I know. That kid’s arm is fucked. They should string that coach up by his nuts.”

    So we head back to Brian’s place with a 12 of Bud Light and watch the broadcast on delay. At the end, I sign off, we fade … and we can hear the tape hiss. It’s still rolling.

    Brian tries calling the station, but Gus is out having a smoke, so the whole conversation goes out to our very limited viewing audience.

    Not my finest hour.

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