I learned that President Donald Trump would attend the Georgia-Alabama national title game after pulling an all-nighter on the way back from Pasadena and driving straight to Augusta for a government event.
As soon as I confirmed the report and published the story, I was flooded with questions. The main one: How will his arrival affect the game?
It turns out, in a pretty major way. Highways from Dobbins Air Reserve Base in Marietta to Mercedes-Benz Stadium were shut down. So was one of the four main entrances to the stadium, causing delays that frustrated fans. He offered the city he once described as "horrible" a truce of sorts shortly after Air Force One touched down. And he was greeted with a boom of applause – and some boos – when he took the field for the national anthem.
I’ve covered Trump at dozens of political rallies, speeches and other events across the country over the past year. But never have I covered him at a venue like this, surrounded by tens of thousands of screaming fans at an epic gridiron grudge match.
I requested credentials as soon as I confirmed he was coming to Atlanta, but the details weren’t hashed out until just a few hours before game time. I didn’t mind.
I'm a Georgia grad, and this year I followed the Bulldogs to the Notre Dame game in South Bend, the SEC Championship game and the Rose Bowl.
For those latter two games, I happily volunteered as a “photo runner” to help our talented photojournalists on the sidelines transmit their pictures and lug their equipment. I just wanted to be in the building, some way or another, to watch the Dawgs play.
When I met with Trump’s security aides outside the stadium, I was ushered past masses of people patiently waiting in the cold, drizzly rain to get inside (I still feel guilty about that), screened by security several times and brought into Trump’s “security bubble” with a few dozen security officers and reporters.
We sat in a whitewashed room in the bowels of the stadium facing three screens: one tuned to ESPN and two others to the stadium’s video feeds. I quickly befriended a Secret Service agent who was also a Georgia fan to revel in our season’s glory.
Soon, we were told to get our equipment and hustle to the sidelines. Trump was going to make an appearance. Within minutes, the president was walking to the 40-yard line, flanked by ROTC members on both sides. A deafening roar erupted. We followed him off the field, and I quickly went back to my makeshift office to write about his visit.
Then, shortly before halftime, there was a stir in the press room. Trump officials told the traveling media to pack up – he was leaving earlier than expected. Soon, the reporters and the Secret Service were on the march – so suddenly that at least one of the reporters temporarily couldn’t be found. It turns out he was on the field taking in some of the game.
I met my final deadline and found myself with a sideline press credential and no president to cover. So I took to the field and watched the unfortunate end of the biggest college football game I’ve ever attended.
As my heart sank, I turned and saw a familiar face. It was Graham Jones, a college pal who had traveled 30 hours from Singapore – yes, Singapore – to watch the game. He was in the front row, clapping amid the downtrodden.
“We’ll be back,” he told me, optimistically. “This is the first of many.”
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