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It didn't start great. At one point, I was basically shaking over something.
I fumbled through a disjointed radio show (ah, summer).
But I rallied thanks to two things:
1) Baseball. Yes. Really. Baseball.
Calling baseball (and other sports certainly) is often my salvation. Putting that headset on allows me to go to a different place for over two hours. It's why I'm so excited to call the Babe Ruth 14U New England Regional starting Friday in Trumbull, CT. Sixteen games in four days? Heck yes!
2) Love of friends and family.
No, that's not all. It's more than love. I don't talk about faith a lot, and for good reason. That being said, the faith they show in me -- and I in them -- can be unyielding. I keep asking to be told it's all going to be OK. But don't just say it if you don't believe it.
Tonight, after a really meh day, it was the combination of baseball and love (and faith) of friends and family that pulled it all together.
Once one the air, I felt like me. And I laughed. That's a good thing.
Two random people also added some kindness about stuff that I've done over the years. A fan at the game told me that he's a big fan of my work.
Like, really?
Another fan -- a parent -- said his son's highlight tape included my play-by-play, and that brought more kind words.
I know, I know. All about me. Well when handed lemons (and I didn't think Paul Silverfarb and I would get this game on the air tonight), it's nice to make some lemonade.
But despite no power, we came up with a generator.
Despite running late, we still got lineups.
Despite Middletown's lineup not having first names on it, we got through it.
Despite all of this being pulled together at the last-minute, we put on a solid broadcast.
We scratched and clawed our way through a game in which Greenwich beat Middletown (CT) 8-1 in American Legion baseball.
And we saw a head coach lose his marbles and get ejected from the game (not sure I've ever seen that).
Instead of being low, sad, and scared, I drove home excited and happy.
July 4th means a lot in this country. Of course, it's the date of our independence and, thankfully, Will Smith is nowhere to be found as I type this.
July 4th marks a day for fireworks. Picnics. Ray Charles.
July 4th is also a day for baseball.
George Steinbrenner was born on July 4 (of course he was).
Dave Righetti thrilled us on July 4, with the first no-hitter by a Yankees pitcher since 1956 (and I missed it because we didn't have cable. I caught the post-game on the radio...and yelled).
Frank Messer, joined by Bill White, on the call. You can hear why I loved Messer growing up. Wonderful attention to detail in that call ("Righetti...again circles around the mound, to the third base side, now up to the pitching rubber, plants the left foot on the slab, looks down to Wynegar, hiding the ball behind the left hip...")
Yet for me -- and I wish for all baseball fans -- today would be about Lou Gehrig.
Today, besides of course being Independence Day, should be Lou Gehrig Day.
Gehrig, of course, was "The Pride of the Yankees" (that might work as a movie title, or maybe a book by Richard Sandomir about the making of the movie). He hit 493 home runs. He played every day, and only a heinous disease that bears his name could stop him. His last full year (1938) -- when it's fair to say amyotrophic lateral sclerosis was beginning to show in his movements -- he still hit .295 with 29 HR and 114 RBI. That was considered a down year for The Iron Horse.
By early '39 he was done. In May, he pulled himself from the lineup after 2,130 consecutive games. Soon after, the world began to know what ALS was.
His baseball funeral was held at Yankee Stadium on July 4, 1939, between games of a doubleheader with the Washington Senators.
He couldn't lift the trophies being brought to him. His uniform sagged. There was fear that he would collapse, especially in the heat.
Despite suggestions that Gehrig had written and rehearsed his famous speech, it's clear to me that this is not true. He had to be coaxed by manager Joe McCarthy to speak. When you watch the video, it's clear that he doesn't read from anything. As a man who was largely shy, I doubt he memorized it.
Regardless, it's from the heart.
The movie doesn't depict it all correctly (they never do). Gehrig's famous line isn't at the end of the speech. The "luckiest man" is the second line in the speech. Heck it never gets recited correctly, and I believe Jonathan Eig's Luckiest Man (the finest biography I've ever read) is the closest to being the accurate text.
These are all reasons to see him as a hero, but it's more. It's the way he conducted himself on and off the field. He was the definition of courage as he fought ALS publicly from 1939 until he died in 1941. There were no scandals and, even if the press tracked his every move, there still wouldn't have been any.
There was a break in his friendship with Babe Ruth, and the well-known issues with Ma Gehrig, who thought she could be the only woman in Lou's life. That's it.
Incidentally, in the midst of the hideous way baseball treated non-whites, Gehrig had this to say:
"There is no room in baseball for discrimination. It is our national pastime and a game for all."
To me, Lou Gehrig is everything that a sports role model should be.
I'm sure the Gehrig speech will be recognized today at Yankee Stadium when the Bombers play the Blue Jays. Yet I'd like to see, as baseball gets hung up on embarrassingly ugly uniforms and pace of play, Gehrig have a day put in place.
We recognize Jackie Robinson every April 15, and deservedly so.
We do nothing as a sport for Babe Ruth (different topic...different time).
Let's make sure every July 4 is recognized -- officially -- as Lou Gehrig Day.
Use it to honor his memory, but also to continue the fight against ALS.
