Just read this article in the NY Times about the use of canned noise and constant blaring music during NBA and other professional games. I hate the NBA, and one of the main reasons why it turned me off was I got tired of hearing the stupid tricks that home arenas would use to "pump up" the fans. I know we used the same b.s. music that everyone else does at the Hump, and I love seeing how most people don't interact with it. I haven't been to a home game at DWS since 2005, but I know that they've improved the game-time "experience" quite a bit since then. Is this being done at DWS too?<div>
</div><div>http://www.nytimes.com/2011/06/07/sports/basketball/stoking-fans-excitement-arenas-pump-up-the-volume.html</div><div>
</div><div><div class="articleBody" style="margin-top: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 1.7em; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: georgia, 'times new roman', times, serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 15px; "><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font-size: 1.5em; line-height: 1.467em; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); ">DALLAS — It was only the pregame show. As the ear-splitting cacophony rocked American Airlines Center before a recentDallas Mavericksplayoff game, the team executive Martin Woodall whooped gleefully over the din: “My clothes are shaking!” His words were discernible only to a lip reader; their sound stood no chance.</p></div><div class="articleBody" style="margin-top: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 1.7em; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: georgia, 'times new roman', times, serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 15px; "><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 0px; font-size: 1.5em; line-height: 1.467em; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); ">At sporting events across the nation, and in the N.B.A. in particular, noise has become a part of the show — rarely more so than in Dallas, where the Mavericks face the Miami Heat in Game 4 of the N.B.A. finals Tuesday night. It is hard to tell if the Mavericks’ favorite machine during these playoffs is Dirk Nowitzki, their star player, or their sound system.</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 0px; font-size: 1.5em; line-height: 1.467em; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); ">The Mavericks’ equipment involves more than simply pumping up decibels to levels that some experts fear could contribute to long-term hearing loss, although science is not solid on the extent. Rather, with fans spoiled by earbud fidelity and 5.1-channel home theater systems, owners like the Mavericks’ Mark Cuban have turned hosting a game into producing an event — with “assisted resonance” and “crowd enhancement” buzzwords for some and euphemisms for others.</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 0px; font-size: 1.5em; line-height: 1.467em; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); ">Sixty monstrous speakers thunder music and clamorous sound effects at decibel levels higher than a jumbo jet engine’s. More speakers above the oval seating bowl replicate a roaring herd of horses in perfectly timed surround sound.</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 0px; font-size: 1.5em; line-height: 1.467em; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); ">After the recent playoff game, against Oklahoma City in the Western Conference finals, began, microphones in the backboard amplified rim clangs, sneaker squeaks and the occasional profanity, while devices dangling above the crowd — in the rare instances when the public-address system was not active — could redirect courtside crowd sounds into the distant upper mezzanine.</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 0px; font-size: 1.5em; line-height: 1.467em; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); ">“It’s way better than old school — everyone’s getting into the game,” Mark Busbee, a 40-year-old Mavericks season-ticket holder, said during the second quarter of Game 5 of the Mavericks-Thunder series. “It’s a new era, a new age — why not leverage the technology that’s here today? It’s never too loud. If you don’t like it, watch the game at home.”</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 0px; font-size: 1.5em; line-height: 1.467em; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); ">The Mavericks have received the occasional complaint about the noise levels, which spend most two-hour games at decibel levels between a power mower’s 90 and a chain saw’s 110. (The Occupational Safety and Health Administration considers 115 decibels for any time period to be dangerous.) Eventually, the only thing that speaks consistently louder than public-address systems is the attendance figures they help create.</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 0px; font-size: 1.5em; line-height: 1.467em; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); ">Few seem to be boycotting games just because, as in Game 5, 97-decibel rock was played during timeouts, “Jack and Diane” by John Mellencamp inexplicably accompanied DeShawn Stevenson dribbling upcourt, and a potentially placid halftime was filled with a thumping drum band and other histrionics. Even when a hairdo-guessing contest led its hostess to screech “Yeaaaahhh!” at 105 decibels — high-pitched sounds in that range can be particularly noisome to human ears — the crowd got only louder to compensate.</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 0px; font-size: 1.5em; line-height: 1.467em; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); ">“I’ve been here 27 years — when I started we said nothing except maybe, ‘Basket by Rolando Blackman,’” said Steve Letson, who coordinates Dallas’s audio and visual presentations from courtside. “We don’t know for sure, but they seem to respond to it. The more they respond, the more we respond.”</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 0px; font-size: 1.5em; line-height: 1.467em; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); ">Sports fans have long used their vocal cords, Thunderstix and, as in last year’s World Cup, vuvuzelas to cheer the home team and rattle the visitors. Noisy crowds can be especially helpful to the hosts in football, where loud cheering can throw off players’ timing because they cannot hear the snap count, sometimes leading to a 5-yard penalty.</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 0px; font-size: 1.5em; line-height: 1.467em; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); ">Decibel levels are like pitch speeds, with scoreboards clearly inflating them for effect; at a recent Mets game, while a video board exhorted fans to “Make Some Noise!” a faux decibel meter pushed a ludicrous 120 (only about 10,000 fans were even at Citi Field). Then there were the Nets of the late 1990s, who were so dreadful and jealous of other teams’ home mayhem thatthey pumped fake crowd noise through their loudspeakers.</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 0px; font-size: 1.5em; line-height: 1.467em; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); ">Poetically, the proliferation of luxury suites — into which patrons often take cover from the noise — has put greater emphasis on the size and clarity of sports sound systems. Rings of spiffy mezzanines force conventional seating rows to reach far higher and farther from game action. For example, the Chicago Bulls’ former home could fit inside United Center, which opened in 1994, said Jack Wrightson, the primary acoustic engineer for that arena and Dallas’s American Airlines Center. Volume affects volume.</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 0px; font-size: 1.5em; line-height: 1.467em; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-size: 10px; line-height: 15px; "></span></p><div class="articleBody" style="margin-top: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 1.7em; "><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font-size: 1.5em; line-height: 1.467em; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); ">“All of the owners are interested in crowd noise,” said Wrightson, who redesigned Dallas’s system two years ago to accompany Cuban’s new $14 million video boards. “But the size of the buildings today makes that a real problem you have to solve. The large interior volume creates the potential for echoes and reverberation, which you don’t want at a sporting event or a concert. The arena speakers have to be properly timed, and insulation installed throughout the building, to compensate.”</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font-size: 1.5em; line-height: 1.467em; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); ">
</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font-size: 1.5em; line-height: 1.467em; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); ">Some echoes can last longer than the game itself, some experts fear, in the form of tinnitus — ringing in the ears for up to 12 to 24 hours — or, more slowly and stealthily, long-term hearing loss. William Martin, a professor of otolaryngology at Oregon Health and Science University, said that OSHA’s 115-decibel limit derived from economic considerations, not just medical ones, and that sports arenas presented a distinct risk, particularly to children.</p></div><div class="articleBody" style="margin-top: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 1.7em; "><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 0px; font-size: 1.5em; line-height: 1.467em; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); ">“Ears are extremely sensitive devices — they’re designed for when you’re walking in the woods and you hear a twig break, signaling that the bear that ate your friend last week is close,” said Martin, who has worn earplugs at many Trail Blazers games at the Rose Garden in Portland, one of the loudest arenas in the N.B.A. because of its low roof.</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 0px; font-size: 1.5em; line-height: 1.467em; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); ">“There are subtle but gradual consequences of bombarding your ears,” he added. “There’s good solid research saying that children, young children, have hearing loss that can be attributed to noise exposure. The basketball, and sports arenas in general, are a very real subset of the problem.”</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 0px; font-size: 1.5em; line-height: 1.467em; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); ">Mark Stephenson, a senior research audiologist at the National Institute for Occupational Safety and Health, a division of the Centers for Disease Control, said that one or two nights at a loud sporting event were probably benign. People who attend dozens of games — and perhaps the athletes themselves — could be at risk, he said.</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 0px; font-size: 1.5em; line-height: 1.467em; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); ">“We can’t assess minor damage until there’s hearing loss later in life,” Stephenson said. “It’s a real issue.”</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 0px; font-size: 1.5em; line-height: 1.467em; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); ">It did not appear to be for the 21,092 jubilant Mavericks fans in the final game against Oklahoma City, in which Dallas came from behind to pull out a victory. In the corner seats near courtside, the resultant delirium peaked at 112 decibels and spent more than a minute over 95.</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 0px; font-size: 1.5em; line-height: 1.467em; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); ">It did not exceed OSHA’s 115 — until the final seconds, that is.</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 0px; font-size: 1.5em; line-height: 1.467em; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); ">Dallas’s increasingly excited crowd pushed the meter to 113, then 114, and then, for one brief moment, past 115 and the officially, undeniably, dangerous level. For Lonnie Franklin, a longtime fan doing more than his share, it was aural ambrosia.</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 0px; font-size: 1.5em; line-height: 1.467em; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); ">“You shouldn’t be able to think at times like this!” he shouted as fans around him stormed the court. “It’s well worth it!”</p></div>
</p></div></div>
</div><div>http://www.nytimes.com/2011/06/07/sports/basketball/stoking-fans-excitement-arenas-pump-up-the-volume.html</div><div>
</div><div><div class="articleBody" style="margin-top: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 1.7em; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: georgia, 'times new roman', times, serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 15px; "><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font-size: 1.5em; line-height: 1.467em; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); ">DALLAS — It was only the pregame show. As the ear-splitting cacophony rocked American Airlines Center before a recentDallas Mavericksplayoff game, the team executive Martin Woodall whooped gleefully over the din: “My clothes are shaking!” His words were discernible only to a lip reader; their sound stood no chance.</p></div><div class="articleBody" style="margin-top: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 1.7em; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: georgia, 'times new roman', times, serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 15px; "><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 0px; font-size: 1.5em; line-height: 1.467em; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); ">At sporting events across the nation, and in the N.B.A. in particular, noise has become a part of the show — rarely more so than in Dallas, where the Mavericks face the Miami Heat in Game 4 of the N.B.A. finals Tuesday night. It is hard to tell if the Mavericks’ favorite machine during these playoffs is Dirk Nowitzki, their star player, or their sound system.</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 0px; font-size: 1.5em; line-height: 1.467em; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); ">The Mavericks’ equipment involves more than simply pumping up decibels to levels that some experts fear could contribute to long-term hearing loss, although science is not solid on the extent. Rather, with fans spoiled by earbud fidelity and 5.1-channel home theater systems, owners like the Mavericks’ Mark Cuban have turned hosting a game into producing an event — with “assisted resonance” and “crowd enhancement” buzzwords for some and euphemisms for others.</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 0px; font-size: 1.5em; line-height: 1.467em; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); ">Sixty monstrous speakers thunder music and clamorous sound effects at decibel levels higher than a jumbo jet engine’s. More speakers above the oval seating bowl replicate a roaring herd of horses in perfectly timed surround sound.</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 0px; font-size: 1.5em; line-height: 1.467em; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); ">After the recent playoff game, against Oklahoma City in the Western Conference finals, began, microphones in the backboard amplified rim clangs, sneaker squeaks and the occasional profanity, while devices dangling above the crowd — in the rare instances when the public-address system was not active — could redirect courtside crowd sounds into the distant upper mezzanine.</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 0px; font-size: 1.5em; line-height: 1.467em; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); ">“It’s way better than old school — everyone’s getting into the game,” Mark Busbee, a 40-year-old Mavericks season-ticket holder, said during the second quarter of Game 5 of the Mavericks-Thunder series. “It’s a new era, a new age — why not leverage the technology that’s here today? It’s never too loud. If you don’t like it, watch the game at home.”</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 0px; font-size: 1.5em; line-height: 1.467em; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); ">The Mavericks have received the occasional complaint about the noise levels, which spend most two-hour games at decibel levels between a power mower’s 90 and a chain saw’s 110. (The Occupational Safety and Health Administration considers 115 decibels for any time period to be dangerous.) Eventually, the only thing that speaks consistently louder than public-address systems is the attendance figures they help create.</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 0px; font-size: 1.5em; line-height: 1.467em; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); ">Few seem to be boycotting games just because, as in Game 5, 97-decibel rock was played during timeouts, “Jack and Diane” by John Mellencamp inexplicably accompanied DeShawn Stevenson dribbling upcourt, and a potentially placid halftime was filled with a thumping drum band and other histrionics. Even when a hairdo-guessing contest led its hostess to screech “Yeaaaahhh!” at 105 decibels — high-pitched sounds in that range can be particularly noisome to human ears — the crowd got only louder to compensate.</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 0px; font-size: 1.5em; line-height: 1.467em; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); ">“I’ve been here 27 years — when I started we said nothing except maybe, ‘Basket by Rolando Blackman,’” said Steve Letson, who coordinates Dallas’s audio and visual presentations from courtside. “We don’t know for sure, but they seem to respond to it. The more they respond, the more we respond.”</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 0px; font-size: 1.5em; line-height: 1.467em; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); ">Sports fans have long used their vocal cords, Thunderstix and, as in last year’s World Cup, vuvuzelas to cheer the home team and rattle the visitors. Noisy crowds can be especially helpful to the hosts in football, where loud cheering can throw off players’ timing because they cannot hear the snap count, sometimes leading to a 5-yard penalty.</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 0px; font-size: 1.5em; line-height: 1.467em; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); ">Decibel levels are like pitch speeds, with scoreboards clearly inflating them for effect; at a recent Mets game, while a video board exhorted fans to “Make Some Noise!” a faux decibel meter pushed a ludicrous 120 (only about 10,000 fans were even at Citi Field). Then there were the Nets of the late 1990s, who were so dreadful and jealous of other teams’ home mayhem thatthey pumped fake crowd noise through their loudspeakers.</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 0px; font-size: 1.5em; line-height: 1.467em; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); ">Poetically, the proliferation of luxury suites — into which patrons often take cover from the noise — has put greater emphasis on the size and clarity of sports sound systems. Rings of spiffy mezzanines force conventional seating rows to reach far higher and farther from game action. For example, the Chicago Bulls’ former home could fit inside United Center, which opened in 1994, said Jack Wrightson, the primary acoustic engineer for that arena and Dallas’s American Airlines Center. Volume affects volume.</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 0px; font-size: 1.5em; line-height: 1.467em; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-size: 10px; line-height: 15px; "></span></p><div class="articleBody" style="margin-top: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 1.7em; "><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font-size: 1.5em; line-height: 1.467em; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); ">“All of the owners are interested in crowd noise,” said Wrightson, who redesigned Dallas’s system two years ago to accompany Cuban’s new $14 million video boards. “But the size of the buildings today makes that a real problem you have to solve. The large interior volume creates the potential for echoes and reverberation, which you don’t want at a sporting event or a concert. The arena speakers have to be properly timed, and insulation installed throughout the building, to compensate.”</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font-size: 1.5em; line-height: 1.467em; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); ">
</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font-size: 1.5em; line-height: 1.467em; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); ">Some echoes can last longer than the game itself, some experts fear, in the form of tinnitus — ringing in the ears for up to 12 to 24 hours — or, more slowly and stealthily, long-term hearing loss. William Martin, a professor of otolaryngology at Oregon Health and Science University, said that OSHA’s 115-decibel limit derived from economic considerations, not just medical ones, and that sports arenas presented a distinct risk, particularly to children.</p></div><div class="articleBody" style="margin-top: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 1.7em; "><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 0px; font-size: 1.5em; line-height: 1.467em; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); ">“Ears are extremely sensitive devices — they’re designed for when you’re walking in the woods and you hear a twig break, signaling that the bear that ate your friend last week is close,” said Martin, who has worn earplugs at many Trail Blazers games at the Rose Garden in Portland, one of the loudest arenas in the N.B.A. because of its low roof.</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 0px; font-size: 1.5em; line-height: 1.467em; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); ">“There are subtle but gradual consequences of bombarding your ears,” he added. “There’s good solid research saying that children, young children, have hearing loss that can be attributed to noise exposure. The basketball, and sports arenas in general, are a very real subset of the problem.”</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 0px; font-size: 1.5em; line-height: 1.467em; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); ">Mark Stephenson, a senior research audiologist at the National Institute for Occupational Safety and Health, a division of the Centers for Disease Control, said that one or two nights at a loud sporting event were probably benign. People who attend dozens of games — and perhaps the athletes themselves — could be at risk, he said.</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 0px; font-size: 1.5em; line-height: 1.467em; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); ">“We can’t assess minor damage until there’s hearing loss later in life,” Stephenson said. “It’s a real issue.”</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 0px; font-size: 1.5em; line-height: 1.467em; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); ">It did not appear to be for the 21,092 jubilant Mavericks fans in the final game against Oklahoma City, in which Dallas came from behind to pull out a victory. In the corner seats near courtside, the resultant delirium peaked at 112 decibels and spent more than a minute over 95.</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 0px; font-size: 1.5em; line-height: 1.467em; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); ">It did not exceed OSHA’s 115 — until the final seconds, that is.</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 0px; font-size: 1.5em; line-height: 1.467em; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); ">Dallas’s increasingly excited crowd pushed the meter to 113, then 114, and then, for one brief moment, past 115 and the officially, undeniably, dangerous level. For Lonnie Franklin, a longtime fan doing more than his share, it was aural ambrosia.</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 0px; font-size: 1.5em; line-height: 1.467em; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); ">“You shouldn’t be able to think at times like this!” he shouted as fans around him stormed the court. “It’s well worth it!”</p></div>
</p></div></div>