Perched 125 feet in the air, TV cameraman Darren Wargo is responsible for playing the lofted shot
Darren Wargo figures he should have died 17 years ago, but that doesn’t stop him from putting his life at risk every time he clocks in for work.
His reward is arguably the best view in golf. In March, he looked down on the famed island green par-three 17th at TPC Sawgrass; in September, he’ll enjoy a vantage point second-to-none over Bethpage Black at the Ryder Cup. Sure, the job of standing on a six-foot-diameter platform on a stick high above golf courses plays well at parties, but it should also come with hazard pay for those times he gets pooped on by birds while looking through his Canon 4K camera.
It goes with the territory when your office is more than 125 feet above the action providing bird’s-eye views of multiple holes. But let’s skip to the question everybody asks: Yes, he brings an empty bottle with him, kneeling behind his backpack for cover; when his minimum six-hour shift above the trees ends, he usually comes down with a full container.
“I’ve yet to have someone come up to me and say they saw me going,” he says. What a relief.
This is not a job for the faint of heart, but Wargo—a 54-year-old Allentown, Pa., native and freelance cameraman for Golf Channel/NBC and others over the last 30 years—is just crazy enough that he raised his hand four years ago for the assignment of ascending via a crane attached to a tractor trailer that moves his perch from tournament to tournament.
Wargo stumbled into camera work while attending Northampton Community College in Bethlehem, Pa. In 1991, an alum sought microphone operators for a tournament in Philadelphia, and Wargo liked it enough to join the traveling circus for the remainder of the summer earning $50 a day. His big break came at a PGA Tour Champions event where Cadillac had a hole-in-one promotion that required a camera to be rolling constantly for proof of an ace. He got on-the-job training filling in during the regular cameraman’s lunch hour.
Before ascending, Wargo packs a lunch and snacks in his backpack along with rain gear and plenty of water because he rarely comes down until coverage is over: The crane makes a loud whine that could disturb golfers.
Once he’s clipped into a harness, the crane lifts him slowly in the air, angling up and then shooting out wide above the tree line.
“I was scared my first time, but it’s old hat now. It’s so peaceful.”
Everything is fine and dandy until the wind kicks up and the platform starts to shake, causing him to hold on tighter to the circular metal railing with one hand as he centers his shot. When the weather changes and Wargo says it’s time to come down, his producers listen. After all, he’s already survived being struck by lightning once and has the entry wound on his right hip as a reminder.
“The doctors kept saying over and over again that I’m lucky to be alive,” he says.
It’s worth noting that Wargo didn’t get hit in the line of duty but on his only day off during the 2008 Summer Olympics in Beijing. He was checking the Great Wall of China off his bucket list when he got zapped while ducking into a stone fortress to take pictures of one of the Seven Wonders of the World in the rain. He credits the cross he wears for saving his life; a gift from his now-wife Robin, the chain was blackened and cut in two pieces by the bolt.
He concedes it’s a crazy story, but you must be a little crazy to be the eye in the sky at PGA Tour events, soaking in the best view in the house.
