The Football Game I (Almost) Stopped
I had every drone-shoot box checked:
LAANC (Low-Altitude Authorization and Notification Capability via the FAA) application approved.
Great, clear weather.
A hired visual observer standing next to me, both of us sporting logo-wear hi-vis vests.
Awareness of a major U.S. Navy helicopter landing field a quarter mile away, which meant even more caution than usual.
School admin permission.
A detailed site plan from the client with every shot they wanted marked.
I had done my homework.
The job: Capture aerial stills and video footage of a brand-new high school multi-purpose stadium.
The client: Lord Architecture, Inc., an Escondido, California-based architecture firm that designs residential and institutional projects like this one. They designed the field, bleachers, press box, concessions, restrooms, the works. A beautiful sports complex.
The catch: They wanted it shot during the school’s first home game of the season on a Friday late afternoon.
I set up, do my pre-flight, get airborne and start working on all the still angles. By the time I was working through my last few video passes—a slow flyby of the press box—the anthem was done, the pep band had started playing, cheer squad was cheering, and the game was underway.
And then, over the PA system, in front of a packed home crowd: “The person flying the drone needs to land immediately, or the home team will have to forfeit the game.”
I was, unmistakably, the Person Flying The Drone. Hi-vis vest. Standing in an open area near the end zone. School admin and parents had been walking past, asking me about the drone for the better part of an hour. There was nowhere to hide, and no reason to try.
¡El Dron! - My DJI Mavic 3
I landed. The game paused, then continued. The principal came over to apologize, looking slightly mortified on my behalf. My client felt terrible too. Turned out there is a district-wide rule (one the principal didn't even know about) barring any drone flight during school-sanctioned events without separate, explicit district permission. Every permission I’d secured was real. It just wasn’t the last one I needed.
Nobody was upset for long. We all had a good laugh about it eventually. “I’m taking my drone and going home” got a few smiles once the adrenaline wore off. But it’s a genuinely useful lesson, and one I don’t think I'd have found any other way: You can jump through the FAA hoops, employ extra eyeballs, do the site walk, get client sign-off, admin permission, and there can still be a bureaucratic layer you didn’t know existed.
Now I ask one more question before every shoot like this: Is there anything beyond what we know… an internal policy, not-so-obvious protocol, that could mean a flag on the play?
I’ve got two more stadium shoots coming up. This time, I’m asking first.
