In Praise of 1980s Video Editors

As a professional video editor, I work with the latest high-definition non-linear software -- but as a kid, I got my start in editing by wiring two VCRs to each other, and then hitting play/pause/record very quickly.  You might not believe it, but in the 1980s, professional video editing was more like the latter than the former.  That's why quick-cut montages, like the one highlighted today, are all the more extraordinary.

The segment has 45 individual clips in 90 seconds.  For each 2 second clip, the editor had to have a physical tape of that 2-hour game, recorded off-air or delivered from a satellite service.  The editor then needed to rewind and fast-forward through the whole game to find the 2 most compelling seconds, mark in and out points, and then hit the "edit" button on the machine, which would transfer those two seconds onto the edit tape.  He'd then repeat the process 45 times, requiring 45 different physical tapes.  Even more amazing, the editor's cuts matched the music precisely.  He likely created a paper logfile of available clips, and did some extensive pre-planning to determine which clips might fit ideally into certain portions of the music.  This was a painstaking process, and could not easily be undone.  If you screwed up the edit, you had to start all over again.  Even film editing couldn't match the agony and the ecstasy of videotape.

That's why today's video software is called "non-linear editing"; users can drag and drop clips, experiment moving them around in different configurations, and then put it all back again with no harm done.  A teenager's mobile phone can edit video more easily and in higher resolution than the best equipment in 1986 (though one could argue about the teenager's skill at the practice).

Perhaps most significantly, video today never sees a physical form.  It's shot onto flash storage, transferred as digital files to a computer, broadcast over satellites and Internet, and played by end users on digital video boxes and smartphones.  Whereas a 1980s video junkie might proudly display his physical collection of tapes or films, a 2010s video junkie outsources his video storage to the cloud -- never to know the joy of having a stack of 45 videotapes, looking for just the right one, as the deadline ticks closer.

That's why it still gives me joy to say, along with Warner Wolf: "Let's go to the videotape!"

Warner Wolf's NBA Montage
(to Tchaikovsky's 1812 Overture)
March 14, 1986

0:01 Spud Webb

0:06 Kelvin Ransey

0:09-0:12 four unknown swishes

0:13 Julius Erving

0:15 Larry Bird

0:16 Mike Gminski

0:17 Bob Thornton

0:19 Sedale Threatt to Charles Barkley

0:25 Ralph Sampson

0:28 Purvis Short to Terry Teagle

0:31 Orlando Woolridge

0:35 Rod Higgins to Buck Williams

0:37 Trent Tucker to Patrick Ewing

0:40 Darryl Dawkins

0:42 Julius Erving

0:44 Ken Bannister

0:46 Darryl Dawkins

0:48 Patrick Ewing

0:49 Ralph Sampson

0:51 Buck Williams

0:54 Darryl Dawkins (backboard shattered)

0:57 Darryl Dawkins (backboard shattered)

1:00-1:05 seven unknown swishes

1:06 Charles Barkley

1:07 Julius Erving

1:08 Michael Cooper

1:10 Michael Jordan

1:11 Julius Erving

1:14 Charles Barkley

1:15 Michael Jordan

1:17 Dominique Wilkins

1:18 Ralph Sampson

1:19 Lewis Lloyd

1:21 Michael Jordan

1:23 Julius Erving

1:24 Julius Erving (repeated)