St. Petersburg Triumph!

Unlike the sweaty, high-energy Gainesville show, the Mahaffey Theater in St. Pete had no pit. The bolted-down seats went right up to the stage, which was about low-chest height with no barrier, except for TEN big security guys who lined the front of the stage and aisles. On top of this, the crowd in the first several rows was unbelievably lame -- it was like they all won their tickets on the radio the night before or something. With a few exceptions, the people in the front row leaned over the stage for the whole show and did ABSOLUTELY NOTHING. There were countless female "fans" with jackets, pocketbooks, and other crap -- what were these people thinking?! You've got to travel light if you intend to experience a Morrissey concert in all of its glory. The sight of people down in front not reaching out their arms to Moz really hurt me. Morrissey even commented that it was okay if we were to move our shoulders a bit.

Anyway, as the show progressed, my friend & I gradually jumped over seats to move from fourth row to second row. Some of the people around us gave us quizzical glances, wondering why we were trying to move forward. I honestly don't know why these people even bothered standing up! When Morrissey & the band left the stage before the encore, and the security guy directly in front of me looked backward at the stage, I took my opportunity to jump into the first row, bordered by security about two feet to my left and two feet to my right. As soon as Morrissey began singing "Shoplifters", I knew it was now or never. I waited until Moz came just left of center-stage, put my right foot on a sort-of ledge that ran along the stage wall about halfway up from the floor, grabbed the shoulders of the two girls on either side of me, and hurled myself up onstage, adrenaline surging, before security even noticed. I ran straight for Morrissey and wrapped my arms around him, with my head buried in his chest and stomach. Then, of course, I felt the hands of death around me, as I was pulled offstage to the left, handed off to about three backstage security guys in a row, and then shot out the side door. I found myself at the bottom of a loading dock, surrounded by the tour buses and catering vans. After snapping a few pictures of my surroundings, I realized that I could make it back into the show before "Shoplifters" ended if I ran like hell. Somehow, I managed to scale a seven-foot wall and run back into the venue. As I ran down the side aisle toward the stage, one of the ushers stopped me to congratulate me on my achievement, but security was not as happy to see me again. Apparently, my bold move touched off the first (well, second) real display of passion and emotion of the entire show. I was later told that one or two more people followed my example and got onstage to touch, but not hug Morrissey, before they were thrown back into the crowd. Then Morrissey, kneeling at the edge of the stage, was almost pulled off into the audience, as my friend grabbed his sleeve and others held his arms.

As we left the show, a few of the security guys became more friendly and joked around, pointing to me and saying, "It was YOU who started all that!" I was so numb and so in shock at what I had accomplished that I hardly knew what had hit me. People kept coming up to me to congratulate me and hug me for some of that precious Morrissey sweat. Despite a previous first-row Orlando concert in '92 (where my friend & I were almost crushed to death) and the great experience in the pit in Gainesville this past Saturday, this was my first "Morrissey encounter", and it was unbelievably special to me. I'm sure he appreciated a little stage-rushing pandemonium after such an initial feeble response to his fantastic performance and presence. I know I did, and I can't wait until Friday night in Kissimmee.

Brent Kolitz

IF ANYONE HAPPENS TO HAVE PHOTOS OR VIDEOS OF THE ST. PETERSBURG SHOW, PLEASE E-MAIL ME AT bkolitz@luna.cas.usf.edu SO WE CAN MAKE ARRANGEMENTS -- I WOULD BE ETERNALLY GRATEFUL!