NEW YORK — On weekdays, Neil Skogland labors in Seattle as president of specialty-crane-maker Ederer Inc., and Judge Frank Jackson presides over municipal court in Lakewood, Colo.
On weekends, they moonlight. You'll find Skogland, 44, photocopying Seattle Seahawks game statistics and Jackson, 61, picking up dirty socks and blood-stained towels in the Denver Broncos' locker room.
The two fans are part of a growing auxiliary of executives, state troopers and even stand-up comedians spending their Sundays assisting one of the 32 National Football League teams. Thousands of eager helpers are running messages, ushering VIPs and holding yardage markers — for little or no wage.
"Being a judge carries prestige," said Jackson, whom former Broncos quarterback John Elway nicknamed "Judgie." "But I've had more fun standing on the sidelines giving the guys water than most anything I've done in my life."
The volunteers come from varied backgrounds, sharing one thing: a passion for football. Some, like Jackson, a 25-year veteran with the Broncos, admit to being frustrated athletes. Others love the camaraderie and spectacle of a big sporting event. And, oh, the stories they can tell on Monday.
"Every game day is a giant production, and their contributions are critical," San Diego Chargers President Dean Spanos said. "They're involved in every element of what happens at games, and they love it. That's what makes it work."
The Chargers use about 240 volunteers and modestly paid workers for each home game. They run clocks, work ticket windows, pass out fliers and hold banners.
The Broncos say their supporting cast usually numbers around 300. If a team with that size staff paid $10 an hour per home game, the season's cost would come to about half a rookie player's minimum salary of $225,000. The league-mandated player salary cap is $71.1 million per team.
The use of game-day employees is growing as teams focus on improving the stadium experience to retain fans, especially when the weather turns cold and ticket holders might opt to watch on TV, said Kevin Byrne, vice president of public relations for the Baltimore Ravens.
The Ravens have added personnel at concession stands, luxury suites, parking lots, even on the crew that programs information on jumbo scoreboards.
Skogland, whose closely held company has built custom cranes to help launch NASA's space shuttles, got his start six years ago filling in for his friend, Matt Smithberg. As a "junior copy boy," Skogland photocopies statistics for coaches and journalists.
"It's a fun social thing that you don't get to experience if you buy a season ticket or a luxury suite," Skogland said. "I have no real responsibility. But I get to spend 10 Sundays a year with my best buddy, watching the game and talking to some really nice people."
Lenny Marcus was working 18-hour days as a computer programmer for Electronic Data Systems Corp. when he quit to become a comedian. He's done stand-up on TV and commercials for Host Marriott Corp. Marcus can be found at New York comedy clubs during the week — and at Giants Stadium in East Rutherford, N.J., on many Sundays.
Marcus landed a job on the Giants' stats crew through a college friend. It's turned into the perfect gig for a self-described sports nut.
"I'm one of those guys who would get a bagel and pull up the seat to the TV and watch for eight hours, and now they are letting me do it at the game," Marcus said.
Ralph Bernard, a New Jersey state police supervisor, emerges on football weekends at Philadelphia's Veterans Stadium with a pair of binoculars to keep track of tackles for the Eagles.
"They pay me $40 a game, but I would do it for nothing," Bernard said.
What does he do when there is a big pileup at midfield and everyone is waiting to see who made the tackle?
"I usually wait to see who's celebrating — he's usually the guy," Bernard said.
Tom Quinn, a salesman, organizes volunteers who mark first-down yardage at Giants' games. The chain gang, as it's called, has a prime vantage point as it shifts two chain-attached markers along the sidelines under the referee's direction.
"I'm on the line of scrimmage every play, about 10 yards from the action, and it's the best seat in the house," Quinn said.
"The Giants are part of my family," he said. "We were born into it."
Jackson even made it to the 1998 Super Bowl in San Diego, paying his own way to avoid any conflicts of interest. The judge helped the equipment crew prepare the Broncos' locker room, evidently bringing his beloved team good luck. Denver beat the Green Bay Packers, 31-24.
As the Broncos celebrated, Elway approached Jackson, shook his hand and screamed, "We did it, Judgie!"
"That made my life," Jackson recalled. "That was big for me. That's not something a fan watching the game will ever experience."