Hello, (new) friends

We'll both be part of the Gades' family in 2021
(2008 in Aberdeen, MD)

We're just four days away from the opening of the 2021 Minor League Baseball season.

Eleven days away from opening up at Dutchess Stadium.

My stomach churns with questions unanswered.

I greet each nugget of information with unfettered excitement as if a new portion of the Dead Sea Scrolls has been unearthed.

The umpire assignments were emailed to me today and couldn't print them out fast enough.

Yet, I realize that some readers might be new to these parts, so I thought a slight reintroduction might be necessary.

I'm your new/old broadcaster, Renegades fans. I've been around on and off for 20 years. It's a long story. It's also a good story but it's for another time (give this post a read).

I'll be up there...somewhere...

I'm one of you, Hudson Valley. This is my home. It's always been that way. I know the nooks and crannies from each of the counties.

Fishkill and Wappingers Falls will be where I hang out a lot between now and late September and yet, in truth, I've been hanging out there my whole life. I spent too many hours with family in Fishkill and Wappingers and Beacon.

I knew the Dutchess Mall when it was a mall! 

My son (look for someone who is a lot like me at Dutchess Stadium this season) went to John Jay. He's one of you also.

But I'm going to give you the best broadcast I know how to do. That's why I'm here.

What will that entail? It will be honest, first and foremost. Honest and accurate. I'm a reporter. I report, inform, educate, enlighten, and entertain.

I like to have fun, so long as it's not in the way of the game.

I'm not the star. The game is. The players are. The coaches. The trainers. The fans. 

I'm literally a conduit but I'm the one doing the most talking, so it's easy to get confused.

I'll tell stories. Sometimes they won't even seem like they have anything to do with the game, but it's about the flow for me. Hopefully, you'll just go with it.

There's nothing contrived in my broadcast. It's all meat and no filler.

I don't have a list of witty one-liners.

It's all been done before by countless voices before me. So I'll just be me. 

I just call the game. I don't live off statistics. In fact, I have a quote about them: "Statistics are used much like a drunk uses a lamppost: for support, not illumination." Vin Scully said that and you should know that he's simply the greatest ever. He's in a whole different world.

Road games? Well, that's all part of what makes this time so unique, isn't it?

I hope to get to Brooklyn, where Vinny first started and where Red Barber became iconic. Sitting in the catbird seat there is something special. 

I hope to get a lot of places but patience is still needed. So it's home games on Z93 for now, but trust me, everyone knows how I feel. They know I want to do as many games as I can because you should have coverage of those games.

It's why it's gnawing at me to not drive down to Jersey Shore on Tuesday night. Your broadcaster should call that game but these are the parameters.

But understand I have your interest in mind. I love the whole process. I love the grind of the road. I'm exhausted when the game is over. But I love it.

Oh and I should mention that when you see the game recap online, that's probably going to be my work.

I've been obsessively thinking about this since the summer of 2019 and even more intensely since I was offered the role that October. Like you, I've been waiting for over 600 days.

What I hope is that you'll find that I'm OK with what I do. I care about every broadcast. I care about the listeners. I care about the families that are listening. I try to create a community and invite you into the booth for a conversation via the radio or the internet.

And when I'm bad or have an off night? Trust me, I'll know it long before anyone else. Because I rarely say I've had a good broadcast. My standard is set that high.

I'm hoping you'll understand when my voice gets excited over something the other team does because the very nature of the beast is that exciting plays are just that. But I'll also be excited when the Renegades do something. Because that's how it should be. Scoring plays are great. So are great defensive plays and pitchers duels and...everything.

My hope is also that I can open the booth up and introduce you to some friends who would like to join me from time to time. I have years of working with fantastic analysts who have earned the chance to be on a broadcast. They've called football, basketball, ice hockey, and, yes, baseball with me.

Over 20 years of calling sports in the Hudson Valley, New England, and elsewhere has created some great relationships.

Those friends of mine know my style and we know each other's cadence and we all know how important chemistry is in the booth.

As for us? We'll learn from each other and it won't be that difficult.

Because, Hudson Valley, I'm one of you. I'm born and raised here.

I carry Renegades history with me. I've got the past and present, as we dive into the future.

Me, almost born a New York Yankees fan, will be your tour guide as the Gades switch affiliations to the Bronx Bombers.

If we haven't met yet, we will.

Soon.

This is our time, Hudson Valley.

BULLETIN! Lois Lane leaving Daily Planet

 

The paper was always the thing

It was all about the stories. Those are words I appreciate.

"Rob, I wish I had some of your demeanor," I was recently told.

The person -- someone I had not met before yesterday -- was pleased with my approach and I have to admit it surprised and pleased me.

I'm used to assuming I'm literally no part of that sentence.

Oh, not for lack of trying, but I also have a low tolerance for ... well ... you can probably guess.

So, in lieu of that, allow me to write an ode to a great journalist. The person who cares about the story.

Susan -- really, does she need a last name? She has "Cher" status at this point* -- is leaving the Darien Times. (Edit: she is moving to another role in the Hearst Connecticut Media empire) 

*She'd kill me if I used a Madonna reference as she's not too fond of the Material Girl and she'll likely be annoyed enough at me for whatever I write within this post so I need to keep her on my good side.

I think I'm a journalist. A *crappy* one (different words have been used) but one nonetheless. I've never met one better than Susan and I know quite a few.

She didn't just work at the DT. She WAS the DT. She found a way to massage and assuage every person she dealt with, good and bad. Where I'd grumble at her for allowing them to have anything to do with her, she'd make the best of it, pull her Fedora on that much tighter, take a swig of her Bud Light Lime, yet straighten her skirt and deal with whatever was in front of her.

I always told her she was the girl who could hang with the guys about as easily as anyone I've ever met.

But she's all of the above, and the fiercest journalist I've had the honor of observing.

You have to know her to understand. In all honesty, she's not as outgoing as you might think. She's actually incredibly shy and reserved. She's very private. But when she goes into "Lois Lane" mode, well, get ready because she's going to get answers.

She has the awards. She has the stories. She has the notebooks. She has a computer and a memory full of things to back all of that up.

Want a dissertation of 830-g (the affordable housing statute)? Yeah. Her. Want to know every...little...piece...of Darien town government? She's your editor. Need to know about a restaurant or business or some minutiae in Darien? Want someone you can trust to tell your story, no matter how emotional?

Want insane knowledge of Billy Joel lyrics? Yep. Her.

You want analogies? It's her pride and joy. Well that and her daughters, the esteemed Snakey and Pinecone of Wilton, of course.

I saw it wear on her. I heard it. I felt it. She was literally blood, sweat, and tears when it came to the DT (and she'll also be annoyed that I used an Oxford comma).

Often it was me being the jerk trying to keep her grounded and reminding her to tell people that certain hours were off-limits. It was also me who found out about those who did her wrong and getting hyper angry to the point that I didn't understand how she could look any of them in the eye. Yet, if she could do it, how could I let it bother me?

I know she could take care of herself. It's just my nature to protect and defend (and I'm still annoyed at some).

That's a whole different topic for another time.

Darien was a better place for having Susan in it. She dealt with people who openly tried to get her fired and went behind her back and that's just those who she worked with!

I might be kidding about some part of that.

But it was time. Time for a variety of reasons. Time to spread her wings. She's sad tonight to be leaving and excited for what's next. She's probably nervous. Maybe even a little scared.

I'm not talking for her at all. Yet I have a sense of what's crawling around in that brain that first came from Staten Island.

She's getting the respect she has earned since she made the announcement and deservedly so

While she'll say, "It's good for the paper," she knows that's where I call ... ahem ... you know.

It's good for her.

She doesn't need it as much as she thinks. That ferocity has carried her through stories both scandalous and benign.

The community was what mattered. She was Darien.

I could literally write a volume about just the nearly eight years that I've known her and the most recent times have been eerie as we've compared notes.

"Eerie." Few words are better suited when it involves Susan, who is also the queen of legit horror.

I know the drill. She'll thank me. I'll get the, "Thanks much!" and a heart from her. She'll likely not let this be seen on her Facebook page.

She might -- might -- pass it on to the Godfather (her father) whom I've become friendly with. That is if he doesn't see it on my Facebook page first.

She'll hate the attention. 

But she'll be grateful for it.

I raise a toast to you, fair Lois. To those fierce discussions about journalism and integrity. Thanks for allowing me to read your brilliance and for challenging me to be better both in written and electronic form.

Scott Pelley, one of your heroes, once told you to tell Lucy and Annabelle that the world will be OK in the long run (and I'm paraphrasing, of course).

I'm here to tell you that you, too, will be OK. That you'll still be that same journalist. That you're going to take those skills and that dogged determination to tell a story and throw all of that into your next challenge. Journalists like you don't simply toss those Fedoras in the trash. They look for their next story.

Go write your next story, Lois. We'll all be reading.

I'm too tired for a title

 

Clockwise from top left, Dave Torromeo, me, Mark Jeffers,
Ron Blomberg, and Bob Small

I'm too tapped out tonight to come up with words.

Yesterday and today were fairly insane but it's the nature of the beast.

I started today expecting to focus on a single video deposition. What I got was a lot more. Due to circumstances, I wasn't supposed to be on the Brunswick lacrosse call but fate opened the door up to do it.

So as I dealt with numerous issues and topics, I also began to see where going to the game was quite possible. The case ended much earlier than I thought and I set about pulling things together to go to Connecticut.

The game went off without a hitch and I buzzed down to the WGCH studios for the first time in months so that I could host "The Clubhouse."

I got to talk to Ron Blomberg, baseball's first designated hitter and an early idol of mine. I took great joy in telling him about wearing number 12 (his uniform number) during my first year in the Mahopac Sports Association.

Of course, I also asked him about Bobby Murcer, but we simply ran out of time for anything else. I know I could have talked about a lot more with him.

With that, I made it back home.

Numerous podcasts, questions, answers, emails, phone calls, lacrosse goals, a radio show later, it's time to reboot.

Radio gaga

 

Courtesy of the team I work for

You might have already seen this piece of news on social media but allow me to tell you here that the Hudson Valley Reneagdeshave a new radio partner.

After years of being on the group of stations including WLNA and WBNR, and other years of being only on the internet, the Gades head to FM on Z93, WBWZ.

What this means for fans is that you'll have multiple options to catch my call of the game. You can watch us on MILB.TV and listen to us on Z93 as well as online at hvrenegades.com and the MiLB app.

As you know, so much of my heart is invested in radio, so I'm glad to see games truly on the air. Obviously, I'm no stranger to internet only (um...Robcasting?) but I still love the magic of a terrestrial station.

The Gades have been on FM before, as part of their package with the WLNA/WBNR group in later years but to my knowledge, this will be the first year of being on FM exclusively.

Baseball and the radio work so perfectly together and I'm excited to paint the word pictures for everyone. I've spent too many hours turning a dial to listen to games at night from Boston and Baltimore and Toronto and Montreal and Pittsburgh and Detroit and Cleveland and Cincinnati and Chicago and even St. Louis. 

There are still things to learn, of course, with just two weeks before the first broadcast. We have to determine equipment and how we're delivering audio to the radio station along with other nuggets. I have to learn who the board operator (or operators) will be. They need to learn me and my cadence. I have to learn what the outcue is. Or am I creating it myself?

All questions -- like it or not -- will soon be answered.

Joining me on this journey in his own position is my son. Sean has accepted a role as a camera operator and whatever else the team would like him to do. That might mean he winds up working a camera in the booth with me, meaning we would be working together.

The thing about this is that I want him to fly on his own so I only suggested Sean's interest to the team and it was up to him to get the job. From here it's his to make or break. I've got my own things to deal with.

I also recorded the first episode of a new podcast series today, "Renegades Weekly," in which Director of Digital Media and Video Production Zach Neubauer and I break down the previous week and look ahead. Keep an eye out for that, as well as my interview with Scranton-Wilkes Barre RailRiders lead broadcaster Adam Marco.

Things are definitely happening and it's getting more exciting and nerve-wracking. New York's Gov. Cuomo has opened up more seating at Dutchess Stadium (and around the state, of course), meaning more fans can come to the ballpark (and hopefully bring a radio or smart device!).

I should say again that this does not end my time on WGCH at all. I intend to be doing "Doubleheader" and "The Clubhouse." I plan on calling Brunswick sports and anything else that I can. I've been asked to call Babe Ruth baseball once again in Trumbull this summer and there's talk of Little League coming back to Robcasting. These are all things to be weaved into the calendar.

But, to be clear, I'm currently exclusive to no one. 

The long journey to Renegades baseball being a reality is inching closer. A week from tonight, the team will open the 2021 campaign in New Jersey. In two weeks, it's showtime at Dutchess Stadium.

Sean and I will both be there.

The favorite sports broadcasters bracket!

 

Vin Scully calls the 1965 World Series.
That's the criminally underrated Ray Scott behind Vin.
Ray was the anti-Gus Johnson

"Hello again, everybody..."

"Hello, friends..."

"And a very pleasant good evening to you wherever you may be..."

Joe Manniello, who has become the master of all things brackets in my life, has done it again.

Recently, I did brackets of greatest Best Pictures, and Billy Joel songs, and Beatles songs. But today (echoing "today" Lou Gehrig-style), he brings us perhaps the most fitting of them all...

THE FAVORITE SPORTS BROADCASTERS BRACKET!

Now, look, I didn't pick those in the bracket and neither did Joe. I'm told that four people did a draft of the 32 participants.

Let's dispense with a few things here:

- Gus Johnson didn't get drafted. No further comment.

- Red Barber and Mel Allen also didn't, which is largely indicative of a need for a historian in the group, but we shall not quarrel.

- Not a single Caray to be found. 

- No Ernie Harwell. 

- No Marty Glickman.

- I can keep going but you get my point (no Phil Rizzuto, Joe Garagiola, Bill White, or basically any Yankees voices...).

Lastly, and I can't stress this enough...

Who's playing to lose to Vin Scully in the final because you all know he's winning this.

We'll start in the "I Don't Believe What I Just Saw" region.

Vin/Doris Burke -- Sigh. I'm a big Doris fan, but this isn't fair. Vin.

Bob Costas/Mike Tirico -- An all-Syracuse matchup (read: sports broadcasting elitism in the non-Fordham/Arizona State/etc division). Like Tirico. Love Costas. Bob.

Jack Buck/Joe Buck -- We will see JACK tomorrow night! (This one is just mean)

Howard Cosell/Don Criqui -- Question: How well do you all know me? Don Criqui is an all-time great PBP voice. Cosell is an all-time great mouth who stepped on countless PBP announcers. As Don Imus called him, "The Great Don Criqui." Yes. Really.

Sweet 16:

Scully/Costas -- That's rough for the second round, Bob. You deserved better. Vin.

Jack Buck/Criqui -- Damn. Sorry, Don. Jack Buck.

Regional final:

Scully/Buck -- "I don't believe what I just saw" gets steamrolled by "In a year that has been improbable, the IMPOSSIBLE has happened." Except, it's not impossible. It's Vin. All day.

To the "Do You Believe In Miracles" region.

The team of John Madden-Pat Summerall against Leslie Visser (who wasn't a PBP voice anyway) -- Unfair. Pat and John.

Jim Nantz/Ian Eagle -- This will break over certain lines. I love Nantz. 

Curt Gowdy/Kevin Harlan -- I bet Harlan wins this one big. "The Cowboy" (Gowdy) was the voice of the big games when I was a kid. I'm taking Gowdy.

Al Michaels/Tony Romo -- Al is miraculous and one of the great PBPers of all time. He's also a Scully disciple. Al.

Sweet 16:

Madden-Summerall/Nantz -- Goodbye, friends. Pat and John.

Gowdy/Michaels -- Curt hit the back nine in the 70s. Al was on the front nine and is still swinging. Al's got a lot of great calls. Curt goes all the way back to Mel Allen in the 40s. But Al is Al.

Regional Final:

Madden-Summerall/Michaels -- two against one. Telestrator against sarcasm and gambling. Summerall did tennis and golf away from football and was an early sports reporter in New York. Al has done baseball, hockey, and basketball. It's tough. The edge -- slightly -- goes to Al Michaels.

That leaves us a Final Four matchup of Al Michaels against his idol Vin Scully and let's not kid ourselves, shall we? Vin.

The "Whoa Nellie!" region.

Doc Emrick/Charlie Jones -- An inspired call with Charlie Jones but he's no match here. He's been ladled away and shuffleboarded by Doc.

Verne Lundquist/Gary Thorne -- Great first-round matchup. I could go crazy with this one but the number of great calls in Uncle Verne's career is overwhelming. YES SIR!

Brent Musburger/Tim McCarver -- "You are looking live!" at two guys who weren't initially known for play-by-play, at least nationally. T-Mac became a World Series staple doing color, and Brent is Brent. I'll give the edge to Brent.

Keith Jackson/Bill Raftery -- Oh this is just wrong! First, I'm a play-by-play guy. But Raft is one of my favorites. But Keith IS college football (even if he called so many baseball games that sounded like he'd rather be anywhere else). Can I "send it in JEROME!?" No. I just can't. "Hello, Heisman!"

Sweet 16:

Doc/Verne -- I hate to say that you know how this one is going. Doc waffle boards Uncle Verne aside.

Brent/Keith -- I love hearing Brent tell stories but Keith is Keith.

Doc/Keith -- Remember, this is my bracket. It's not who I think will win. As I said, I always felt Keith was ambivalent at best when calling baseball (and he was on the "Bobby Murcer" game when Cosell allowed him to talk). But Doc changed how I viewed hockey and definitely how I called it. "WHAT CHAOS," indeed!

Lastly we head to the "OH MY!" region.

Marv Albert/Sam Rosen -- This had to be a local pick. Marv is a New York institution that became huge nationally. YES!

Howie Rose/Mike Breen -- I was going to "Put it in the books!" but then "BANG!" Mike Breen is one of my heroes. Love Howie (really, I do) but Breen is a different level. 

Kenny Albert/Gare-Keith-Ron -- Er...what? The Mets fans will whine. Kenny will understand. GKR. 

Dick Enberg/Dan Shulman -- This is so unfair to Shulman but Dr. Enberg has been one of the voices of my life, in fact even "BV" (Before Vin). The Renaissance Man himself, Dick Enberg.

Sweet 16:

Marv/Breen -- This was a setup. A tough one. Both can claim the hand of Marty Glickman as guidance. Both worked with the irascible Imus. Both are hysterically funny. Both did local sports (Breen on WFAN and Marv on Channel 4). Breen did football at one time in addition to basketball while Marv did the NFL, Knicks, and Rangers. Plus he anchored the World Series on NBC at one time. But I've met Breen and love his style. That's literally the only edge. Breen.

G-K-R/Enberg -- Dick Enberg. Next.

Breen/Enberg -- I love you, Mike. I really do. But Dick Enberg helped me love tennis from Wimbledon. He helped me get more entrenched into the NFL with Merlin Olsen. He nudged me along with college basketball. Plus he hosted the "Sports Challenge" TV show. He goes to the Final Four with Doc Emrick, Al Michaels, and Vin Scully.

I've already moved Scully into the championship.

Now it's Doc versus Dr.

I hate that it's come to this. Each man has impacted me profoundly. I never had a chance to talk to Dr. Enberg but I did talk to Doc Emrick last year. I've made it clear how both helped guide me as a broadcaster. Dick Enberg's two edges are that he has a longer impact on me and that he did more sports, though some forget all the different things Doc Emrick called.

You know how this is going to turn out anyway, and I'd love to call a draw but I can't. Dick Enberg sashays into the final by a whisker.

I told you from the beginning who would win this all along and everyone else was fighting for second place.

Vin Scully over Dick Enberg.

Which is no crime.

Oh my!

Just not my "Hill of Beans" tonight

 

We could all use a Bogie in our life

The Academy Awards are on and I'm not watching it.

That is, I just haven't turned them on. There's no protest on my part.

It has nothing to do with politics -- though I prefer when they simply hand out awards and call it a night.

Look, some come for the glitz and glamour.

The fashion.

The celeb buzz.

For me, it's pure history.

I love movie history. I generally love most history (good and bad) which is why I don't like it when we try to erase it...

Stop. That's not the path I want to take.

So, yeah, movie history.

I could still turn it on before the end of the night, I suppose. I have nothing against the movies. I haven't seen them but that doesn't keep me from watching the ceremony.

For me, Oscar is at its best when they remind us of the glory of filmmaking. I can do without the musical performances and a lot of the other stuff of the night. Inevitably I drift off during the show by either reading and keeping it on as background noise or putting something else on.

Then I engage again for the big awards.

Anyway, I just find myself not interested, which is par for how I've felt with all awards shows this year.

I did, however, see a laughably bad list (such a dangerous word) ranking all of the Best Picture winners, beginning with "Wings" in 1929. The list was so awful that I won't ever link it here.

For me, the best Best Picture winner is "The Godfather." If you don't like it, by all means, leave the gun and take the cannoli.

After that, I'd probably pick "Casablanca" second. From there it's a crapshoot of movies that I think are truly great, some that are not so great, and some that I've never seen.

Then you're reminded that "Citizen Kane" didn't win, losing to "How Green Was My Valley" and your head begins to hurt.

Then there's the "The Greatest Show on Earth" debacle, a film that was...fine...but in no way was it better than "High Noon" or "The Quiet Man."

Oh, some years had me pleased and some just livid. Best to not get me going on "Shakespeare in Love" for instance. In fact, that was a fairly grumpy night for me, as I watched "Shakespeare in Love" beat "Saving Private Ryan" for Best Picture and Roberto Benigni top Tom Hanks for Best Actor.

However, this is certainly not meant to be a "back in my day" type of rant. I'm not denying the power of modern moviemaking at all.

For whatever reason, I just don't have the zest for it at the moment.

So if you're watching, enjoy it. If you're not, I get it.

I'm right there with you.

Happy birthday

 

Front and center among some of her grandkids and great-grandkids last July

It's my mom's first birthday since she passed.

She liked the fuss more than she let on.

I can remember her 70th. She wanted no part of a party. She swore that to me. So I was the fool who told others to not fuss because she didn't want it.

She had a surprise party and was the belle of the ball, of course. Lesson learned.

We were in North Carolina for her 80th. Again, she wanted minimal fuss.

Then she grumbled about minimal fuss, in part because we did something for her a few nights after her actual birthday because one of her granddaughters lived 1.5 hours away in NC. We wanted to do it right for her.

But we miss her today. Obviously, I think of her often and, basically, every day.

We're still dealing with our grief in our own way.

I haven't processed it. As it has been for months, I keep thinking she's at the nursing home or dialysis, except I don't have to do her laundry.

I still figure she needs something from the grocery store or her egg and cheese from the deli on route 6 between Carmel and Mahopac.

We knew it was coming. I watched her fade. The pictures on the day Sean graduated told me a lot.

There's still this feeling of shock.

Yet today is to celebrate all that she brought us in 83 years and beyond, as she hits 84 today.

As I wrote yesterday, I'll go call baseball. She'd like that. She'd also like that I would miss one of the three games I could call today to honor her birthday.

So I will.

It's certainly not the same without her. 

That's the understatement of 84 years.

So much to do

 

I still have some game broadcasts on cassette

It's Friday, April 23.

May 1st is a week from tomorrow. The Renegades open on the road three days later.

They open at home a week after that.

There's still a lot to do.

I might have mentioned that I've tried to connect with each former Renegades broadcaster (or at least what I would call the primary voices). I was hoping to get sound from each of them to create a montage to play. In the end, I didn't do that badly. I got eight out of 13 (including me). However, two of those were thanks to my own digging around.

Sean Ford told me he doesn't have his archive -- at least, he doesn't think so -- but I had a few things. In the end, I chose a home run call from our broadcast at Fenway Park.

I found Josh Caray's call of a catch to end the last game at Dutchess Stadium: game one of the 2019 NY-Penn League semifinals against Brooklyn.

Geoff Brault sent me a call of Carlos Beltran striking out in a rehab assignment at Dutchess Stadium. The best part? I'm doing color on that call.

Bill Rogan, Rick Schultz, Jacob Wilkins, and Ben Gellman-Chomsky all sent me some audio as well, with Schultz sending me several items.

JJ Duke told me he would get me something eventually. All good and no worries.

It's a fraternity and even those who didn't get me anything still take a certain level of pride in their time in Dutchess County. The beauty of this project is they can always send me audio later on and I can edit things.

I don't know if what I created will ever see the light of day but I'll tell you I felt a great deal of pride to hear my own voice along with each of the others.

Oh but there's still so much more. I'm trying to figure out who is broadcasting for each High A-East team. Some teams list the name on the website. Others don't. Then there's sleuthing by doing Google searching and other queries.

So I've found out that Hudson Valley has a broadcaster and, thankfully, it's still me. I know Keith Raad is at Brooklyn because he and I have talked extensively. Greg Giombarrese is the name of the Jersey Shore broadcaster. I connected with Luke Hallett at Winston-Salem yesterday. I also know of Shawn Murnin at Bowling Green and Kevin Karel at Rome. It appears that Doug Maurer is the man in Asheville.

I have no confirmation at Greensboro and Greenville.

After that? I've heard Aberdeen will have a broadcaster. I'm not sure what Wilmington is doing, and it appears Hickory won't have a broadcaster at all.

You can probably guess what I think of that.

Again, I think it's a brotherhood, fraternity, or whatever term you want to use. I think we can each be a source of information for the other. When it works, fellow broadcasters can work together and be friends and support each other.

When it doesn't...

*****

One other thing. I'm shocked at the number of jobs that are still open or just getting filled.I saw Fayetteville -- yes, that Fayetteville -- has an opening again. While I'd love to be closer to Kristy, Hector and family, I'm pretty darn happy where I am.

If I haven't mentioned it, I'm a broadcaster for a Yankees affiliate, a mere 30 minutes from my front door. It's pretty nice to see job openings and just watch them, given I'm taken.

*****

Tomorrow, we'll fight the emotional tide of the calendar by being busy, and wow did people want me to work for them. I'm grateful for that.

I was wanted back in Pennsylvania again, presumably, so I could blow another tire (I kid). I had an offer for Greenwich lacrosse but Brunswick gave me baseball first (we'll come back to that). Then the University of New Haven surprised me by offering me a baseball doubleheader (we'll hopefully talk again soon).

Was that everything? Well, sort of, but let's go back to Wick baseball. So, the game -- against Greenwich Country Day -- was scheduled for 2 p.m. But rain is coming on Sunday, so Wick moved the GCDS back to 11 a.m. and rescheduled a doubleheader with Poly Prep from Sunday to Saturday at 1:15 and 3:30.

Yes. A tripleheader. However, barring something unforeseen, I will do only two of the three.

As if she's sitting on some heavenly throne trying to mess with me, tomorrow is my mother's 84th birthday. She'd want me to work. No question. Make the almighty dollar.

She'd also want me to honor her birthday. Trust me. She'd say otherwise but I know better.

So I'll do the two games -- 11 and 1:15 -- but have dinner in her honor later on. Sean will join me. It's where we probably belong.

And time will keep marching on.

A deep dive

 

Is Dropbox the answer?

I'm in the process of trying to figure out the best way to archive old digital files.

You might recall I had a bit of a scare when I couldn't access files on an old external hard drive. Well, I finally bought a device to help me and, today, got around to emptying the hard drive off (thanks, Marc Ducret!).

Now it's a question of where and how I store all of these old game broadcasts and other files. Sure, Dropbox is nice but it's also not cheap. But is another external drive the answer? Or some other service?

As always, I've been reading and researching and overwhelming my brain.

But this process meant diving into the rabbit hole of broadcasts from the Gades, HAN, WGCH, Local Live, and more.

Remember the Georgian Court basketball games I called in a snowstorm and wound up stranded at Post University? Those broadcasts are there.

The long, hot summer baseball tourneys? Got 'em.

The first lacrosse game I called -- back in 2005? Yes.

And all kinds of wacky Hersam Acorn audio when I was literally the only person who knew what we were doing (thus...Robcasting). 

Some of the files might be bad or weren't complete for one reason or another. That highlights a huge bummer for me. When HAN went primarily to video, we initially talked about keeping the audio element.

Then, we didn't and the audio came to an end so it was on me to create an audio recording if I wanted one.

Eventually, HAN made a business decision to put many of the game broadcasts -- including games that I called -- behind a paywall.

So, at this point, I don't have access to them and that's a shame. I recorded the audio of some but not all.

There are certainly a few I'm quite proud of, such as the 50th FCIAC Championship football game. Chris Erway and I were on fire for that one. I mean, there are so many others.

Hopefully, I'll get that audio one day (even if it's video).

Of course in those files are stories -- good and bad. There's blood and sweat and tears. There are a lot of long nights and exhausting drives home. There are a lot of late-night conversations to give me the energy to make those exhausting drives home.

This is true of every stop I've made along the way.

There are a lot of great memories.

And yet...

My eye drifted to Sep 11, 2015. John Jay of Cross River at Yorktown football. The internet was terrible. We struggled all night. The broadcast felt like a complete disaster on multiple levels. I had to go to the athletic director's office to sign a waiver for us to broadcast the game.

The next day we held our breath at Notre Dame of West Haven for football as we lost power a few times and nerves were raw.

Those are just a couple of the horror stories.

But the triumphs. That 2015 FCIAC Championship. The Cooperstown game between McMahon and Norwalk. The long stretches of hockey and basketball championship runs.

Broadcasting at Webster Bank Arena and Ingalls Rink and Mohegan Sun.

I could go on but I sense you're getting the idea.

These are files that are important to me so I have to find the right place to keep them safe. With those files comes even more memories.

It really could be a book but I don't know that anyone would ever care to read it.

The shutdown

 

Gio Urshela (photo: USA Today)

Justice was served last night in Minneapolis and I was ready to report it.

I had heard the verdict in the Derek Chauvin trial was in and was expected to be announced while I was on the air doing "Doubleheader."

The news actually broke roughly ten minutes after I got off the air but I was prepared just in case. While I still discussed sports, I stepped into my news reporting outfit and tried to deftly move between the two, in preparation for whatever was coming.

From there, I waited and watched.

As the verdict was read, I pondered what, if anything, I'd say either on social media or here on the blog.

I found a tweet from NBA reporter Shams Charania that summed up the verdict, retweeted it, and...

I ate dinner.

I watched the Yankees/Braves game.

I texted.

I watched more baseball.

I fell asleep.

To sum up, I was off social media completely for the night.

I didn't care what you had to say -- you on the left or you on the right.

I didn't care what the media had to say either. Nope. I didn't need Sean Hannity or Chris Cuomo or Anderson Cooper. I didn't even need local news.

Nobody -- not a soul -- was going to inform me of something I didn't already know. Nobody was going to change my mind, given I saw the video and had the facts on this case last year.

I had no interest in watching the reaction last night. 

And sure enough, come this morning, I read enough #hottakes.

In my opinion, this was the healthiest approach for my sanity and I'm glad I did it.

I addressed things when I opened "Doubleheader" today. I expected a guilty verdict. We got a guilty verdict.

Then I talked sports. The Yankees found a way to win. So did the Knicks. The Rangers and Mets both lost. Some games today were postponed due to the weather.

Stuff like that.

The world continues to rotate.

You woke up early. No one cares.

 

We're revisiting my man, Dr. Rick, again. 

He's the "parenta-life coach" featured in the Progressive Insurance commercials.

In one spot, featuring the good doctor hosting a seminar, we see a slide projected behind him. Dr. Rick echoes the words on the screen.

"You woke up early," he says. "No one cares."

Except, I did wake up early, and I care.

The alarm greeted me at 3:30. As often as I set an alarm I rarely need it. My father was like that. I was always amazed at how he'd just get up. You never heard an alarm. His internal alarm just got him out of bed.

I've developed that same alarm and it's a blessing. And a curse.

I can only imagine what it would be like for him to have a cell phone or, perhaps more hysterically, Alexa. That's who woke me up today.

I can hear him yelling at her. Oh wait, that's me. But it would be him also and it would be worse.

I'm sitting here, waiting for others to join me for this depo, trying to tell myself that this is just another story to tell. That it's part of the fun.

Alternatively, I'm thinking about how great it would be to get in the car and go...somewhere.

That's my more pressing thought.

Most of my early drives begin at 5:30 but, in truth, I do that for the others traveling with me.

When I left to drive to Charleston, SC by myself in 2012, I was up and ready to walk out the door at 3:50 a.m. But then I argued with myself if I was truly ready and double-checked everything before leaving a half-hour later.

So 5:30 was more of a compromise for Mom and Sean.

And now just Sean.

That early drive is coming. I'm trying to believe it. I keep thinking we can make North Carolina happen this summer when the Renegades are on the road.

Out the door, I'd have the radio on, checking on traffic to get around New York City and New Jersey.

Then the internal debate about tolls would begin. Do I want to be fleeced by the New Jersey Turnpike and, for that matter, how am I crossing the Delaware? 

Those are decisions that I would make with the information presented via traffic reports and how we're moving along. I remember one recent trip -- 2018, as I recall -- in which we were making such good time that I just stayed on the Turnpike, as opposed to opting for Interstate 295, where there are no tolls.

We were out of the house at 5:16 that morning (everyone was ready early) and, three stops later (one in Mahopac), we were in North Carolina. I began unpacking the car at 3:29 that afternoon. We made great time.

Again, I think back to Dad. He'd be blown away by the notion that there was a thing called Waze that could tell him where construction zones and other traffic backups are, given his perpetual paranoia about Washington, D.C. rush hour. Justified, I might add.

I'll always say there's a strategy to traveling. At least in my style of traveling. I've considered where we'll stop but that doesn't mean that's where we'll actually take a break. In fact, unless I'm hellbent on a particular place, it's more likely I'll start thinking about what and where miles down the road. It's more spontaneous than I'm making it sound.

These thoughts are far nicer than sitting here in my office as work rolls along.

The road beckons. I'll be back on it again one day.

Even if no one cares.

(Opening Day is two weeks from today. I'll let you know if there's a plan for anything Gades-related that night.)

Vin got a ring

(Photo: LA Dodgers)

My words are few today.

So I need that picture of our guy Mr. Scully. That's the first picture I've seen of Vinny since his wife Sandi died in January. Nice to see him.

I'm sure his heart still hurts a bit also.

Anyone asking why the Dodgers gave him a World Series ring will receive one...simple...answer.

Because he's Vin-freaking-Scully. Period.

My Tuesday job begins at 4...in the morning. So, as I sit here writing at 7:25 p.m., I realize it is in my best interest to shut down and chill.

Oh and I recorded a podcast with Scranton/Wilkes Barre play-by-play announcer Adam Marco today. That will be out in a few days. Sort of a "Welcome to the Yankees system" thing. So that's cool.

And another podcast still to come.

No rest for the weary.

Good night.

It happens

 

"Have a nice day." -- Forrest Gump

There's too much negativity, so I won't project it.

But I am OK after last night's tire event. I got home a little after midnight.

I feel fortunate that my cousin, Kris, was able to help me with the stubborn lugnut that probably would have destroyed my back (which was already sore enough) during l'affaire du tire (which is actually "pneu" in French apparently). 

He doesn't live too far from where I hung out on the side of Interstate 84 and I'm grateful for his help.

After he showed up, we were done in no time and spent more time catching up and talking than anything else.

Now I have to figure out how and where to get a tire. I also have to find the time to go sit in a tire shop. That means a likely lost day of work.

There are a ton of "what-ifs" I've considered, among them the simple version of getting off 84 at that exact exit, leading to the pothole. What if I had just stayed for the night in Milford, PA like I was considering? 

In fact, at one point, I was going to stay in Milford and then head to New Jersey Sunday morning for wrestling. That, however, changed. At another point, I was going to meet my niece Kristy somewhere around the Milford area and crash with her and her kids. That changed also.

But that thinking can make one crazy. It's the luck of the draw.

I know I don't need four tires but you know how these things work. That being said, if you have suggestions of a trusted tire source not too far from Mahopac, feel free to let me know.

But I see the blessings in all of it. Things can always be a lot worse.

Still, it's often so hard to stay upbeat, as I'm sure you can agree. No need to review the laundry list of why.

So I thought I'd just pop on and say hello. I have nothing profound to offer.

There will be a new podcast in my life soon.

I mowed part of the lawn today for the first time in 2021. So begins roughly six-plus months and that's actually a great thing.

The Yankees are bad. The Knicks are good. The Rangers are meh. The Mets have already won the World Series.

The Red Sox uniforms this weekend were not worth saying anything about.

What was a bright and sunny day has turned cloudy.

Honestly, that's about it.

Hi from the road...

 

...the side of the road.

Oh yeah. That.

I called baseball and softball for WYNY Radio in Milford, PA today. For seven hours, Tony Goff and I laughed and had a ball calling these youth games.

It was cold and damp. My back ached. We got a few breaks but we were "on" all day.

All worth it. All stories worth telling.

But the journey home has not been good, culminating in blowing out a tire as I moved into the left lane to turn back on Interstate 84 near Newburgh. I knew it was bad and, sure enough, my tire blew.

And here I sit, on an entrance ramp.

I can change a tire. You bet I can. However, something is up with the lugnuts.

So right now I can't.

I have a call out for help and they should be here ASAP. But until then, I'll be in the car.

I was hoping my story to take away from my trip to Milford, PA was that I shivered a lot (despite multiple layers) and my back hurt.

Or the triple play I called (a first!).

Now it will include the blown tire.

That's baseball and road trips for ya.

The Dutchess of New York

Sam at Harney & Sons in Millerton (Photo: Samantha-Brown.com)

Most late Friday afternoons are a bit of an emotional ride for me.

Since graduating from high school, Sean has lived literally half of his time with me. So, around 4 p.m. every Friday (give or take) Sean arrives or takes off.

It's gratifying and sad and all kinds of emotions rolled into one. 

Today is the alternating Friday when he leaves, and he took off over an hour ago. Don't get me wrong. Part of me relishes the quiet and solitude.

The other part of me -- the larger part -- gets lonely. It's back to just Rascal and me.

So I came to the computer to finally watch the recently-released PBS program on Dutchess County. Part of Samantha Brown's Places to Love series, it's a nice ride through the county to the north of me.

That, by the way, is where Dutchess Stadium is and where Sean goes when he's not with me and where a large part of my life has taken place. In total, it's a large swath of the Hudson Valley.

I admit to being a Samantha Brown fan, to begin with, just as I enjoy the travel shows of Rick Steeves and others. She knows Dutchess County well, having been here many times with her husband and kids, though she currently calls Brooklyn home.

The show is definitely a reminder of all the good that Dutchess County has, though obviously Sam and her team only hit some key highlights. While she noted the Roosevelt's at Hyde Park -- especially Eleanor's Val-Kill Cottage -- no mention was made of the nearby Vanderbilt Mansion. 

It would be difficult to fit in a segment on Rhinebeck and the Dutchess County Fair and Red Hook and Pawling and Beacon and everything in between.

That's hardly a criticism as you can only fill so much into roughly 25 minutes. It just goes to show that Dutchess County does have a lot to offer.

So does the rest of the Hudson Valley for that matter.

The idea of the show is to entice you to learn more, of course.

What Sam's show did really well demonstrated the depth as well as the width of Dutchess County. The county is split almost down the middle by the Taconic State Parkway, a road that is reviled by some, loved by others (including me). While it's easy to note the traffic and chaos of US 9 from Fishkill to Hyde Park, and I've specifically seen how that has grown, the show instead noted the Walkway Over the Hudson and a restaurant in Poughkeepsie as well as Harney and Sons Fine Tea on the east side of the county, where my cousin Nancy has worked for years.

There was more. Lots more. Not a bad note to be sounded in the show and for what it's worth, that's sort of nice.

It's easy to take it all for granted and I admit I probably used to. I don't do that now.

Obviously, the Hudson Valley is about a lot more than just Dutchess County. Orange, Rockland, Ulster, Westchester, and the little sliver called Putnam make up the other primary counties of the region. It serves as a gateway to the Capital District and the Catskills and beyond.

And it's my home (though I'm in Putnam County, of course).

I'd be happy to be a tour guide for the Hudson Valley. Oh, wait, I sort of will. On the radio. In roughly 18 days or so.

Thanks, Sam. This is still a place that I love and I'm glad you do, too.

Come sail away

 

The ship of fools is out at sea already.

Reading comprehension remains at an all-time low. I posted about an unbiased trolling comment I heard yesterday and it got retweeted as a "hot take," which was glaringly wrong.

For the record, I generally eschew bias in the broadcast booth because that's what that guy Scully taught me. Certainly, there can always be that 60/40 approach (60% for the team you work for) where you recognize that "60" pays your salary. But to overstep into a world of being a homer and being biased brings credibility and integrity into question. If that works for you, rock on, my guy.

There are exceptions to all of this. 

*****

Of course, last night's post, dripping in sarcasm, went over like a cargo ship stuck in the Suez Canal. Oh well, it's not the first time and it won't be the last.

*****

I belong to a Facebook group called Vintage Baseball Photos. Oh, if it were only truly vintage photos and not continued idiocy (aka more hot takes). Instead, it's obnoxious, arrogant, angry arguments of fans who each want to show they're smarter than the other.

What do I always say about don't try to be the smartest person in the room?

The latest drivel involves Luis Tiant. Ah, Luis. El Tiante!

That windup! That mustache! The big Cuban cigar after every start! He oozed cool from Cleveland to Boston to the Yankees with shorter stops in Minnesota, Pittsburgh, and Anaheim (or California as they were known at the time).

Four 20-win seasons! A 1.60 ERA and nine shutouts in 1968 ("The Year of the Pitcher")! 

Get him to the Hall of Fame!

Oy.

Have we not seen enough mistakes? Look, I loved Tiant, even with the Red Sox. Every kid in the 70s imitated his 180-degree spin-around windup. It was a thing of beauty.

But he's not a Hall of Famer in my opinion. Look, it won't be some crime if he gets in but 229 wins, a 3.30 ERA, two All-Star nods, two top-five Cy Young Award finishes, and over 2400 strikeouts don't necessarily equal Cooperstown to me.

A lot more goes into it than that, and that's where the ship of fools arrive in port. Where there's conjecture, well, there's idiocy.

Sounds like politics, no?

The immediate comparison is to Catfish Hunter. For one thing, I get we immediately want to compare but you can't just do it off numbers. Catfish was also a big game pitcher who made eight All-Star Games, had four top-five Cy Young finishes, won 20 or more games four straight years and was at the top of the rotation for three straight Oakland A's world championships. Then he went to the Bronx as the first big free agent signing and led the Yankees to three World Series in his five seasons, winning two more titles. He also has a perfect game to his resume.

Everything, however, has to be in context.

Tiant was flashy and fun. Hunter was quiet and reserved. Writers loved both of them.

It's not so much that the topic of Tiant being in the Hall of Fame was brought up. It's the reaction to it. The comments underneath it.

We know there are mistakes in the Hall of Fame. We know there are players who shouldn't be there for one reason or another. The plaques aren't coming down anytime soon but why compound it by adding more?

It's Thursday. There are just 19 days until the first pitch of the Renegades season, and 26 until they open at home.

It is an awful, rainy night.

Be kind to people and let the ship of fools drone on.

The big three

 

The famous double play combo

With apologies to Franklin Pierce Adams and his classic poem, "Baseball's Sad Lexicon."

They're the ones who hang on every word you post:

Tinker to Evers to Chance.

Trio of users who like things the most

Tinker and Evers and Chance.

Ruthlessly perusing Facebook of this man,

Thumbing through pictures on his Instagram,

Twittering the tweets like only they can:

"Tinker to Evers to Chance."

*****

In honor of the social media-obsessed who would like a picture of something gross because they thought you were posting it as "art!"

It's a topic of great laughter. I mean, that's better than the alternative.

I laughed to myself as Mr. Adams' words were ringing in my brain today.

Social media's sad lexicon.

The "mixing" bowl

 

Circa 1990

OK, I have a problem.

It's a problem with audio equipment.

Since I've been broadcasting from home more consistently, I've rotated through mixers and setups and even rooms of the house.

So I thought I'd have a little fun showing the different mixing boards that have distributed "the magic."

At the top, that's my very first one. I got it probably in 1990. A classic Realistic board from Radio Shack and it still works. Yes, it's missing the power button and the lights in the VU Meters don't work. There are flaws. But I still utilized it in one of the iterations of the setup last year.

I'm pretty sure I used this little Behringer for one of the "Doubleheader" shows from "The Pod." It's pretty basic but comes in handy when space is an issue. It's fairly powerful for how simple it is. It always drove me crazy that it doesn't have a power switch. Plug it in and it's on. The end. However, it's a good starter if you want a mixer to learn on without spending too much. This, along with a Behringer UMC202HD audio interface, was a small enough setup for Chris Erway and me to call the 2018 state football championship.

Oh, my trusty Peavey PV8. I bought this on eBay back in 2013. I actually won the auction because the seller just wanted to get rid of it and nobody met his price. I offered $65 and he was happy with that. Then I got it and realized that it wasn't a USB mixer. So it languished at first as I figured out what to do with it before discovering that Behringer also sold these small audio interface units that turned "RCA cables" (they're the ones with red and white or red and yellow plugs) into USB. That's also when I discovered "the Behringer buzz" which isn't as exciting it sounds. Still, I'm very fond of this one. We've been through a lot together.

However, I also learned that the power cable easily frayed easily, and replacing them was a pain. So I have one but I don't transport it much anymore. 

Behringer makes very good budget equipment. Not the best and hardly the worst. WGCH has used essentially two Behringer units since probably 2005 or so. What I'll always like about the 1204 unit is that it does have USB but it also has mute buttons on each XLR pot (XLR are those circular female three-prong ports at the top of the mixer). A mute button is your friend. 

No, really. It is. One must always assume the mic is live *cough four-nothing ballgame Thom Brennaman* but a mute button is great for commercial breaks and, ahead, coughing.

I often keep this one in the car if I need a more powerful mixer in a pinch, or if one dies. WGCH's older Behringer died in 2019 as they set up for "The Clubhouse" without me. Yes. Without me, as I had a trunk loaded with equipment (like I said, backups).

Prepared. Always prepared.

My Allen and Heath is a mixer that I've wanted for years and I finally got it, via eBay, last year at a sweet price. I really want to love it but it has a bit of a learning curve to it. Still, I've only used it for a few baseball games and some "Doubleheader" shows. Maybe it will reemerge for the Gades or football season. In my perfect world, I thought this might be my travel mixer for road Gades games. All in due time.

There are no mute buttons but there are a few options that will change the feed of a "pot" and effectively mute the circuit. So, that's sort of a win.

These were basically all the mixers I used before I joined Dan and Craig doing video depos. One thing about Dan (and Craig also but in a different way): he's a huge tech junkie and we got to talking about mixers. We got to talking about what I used to produce my show and games. And he had some surplus, so...

He gave me this beast to try out. It's obviously a larger version of the PV 8 I showed above and, like the 8 it also doesn't have a USB on it! However, I have manipulated it just enough to get USB ability, plus it does have mute buttons. For now, I'm using this one for "Doubleheader."

For now. Don't hold your breath. The Allen and Heath could replace it. Anyway, at one point, Dan said he might be interested in selling this...

Photo: Sweetwater

The Rodecaster Pro. Damn, this is a mighty fine mixer and I got to try it for a few months. Mike Hirn has been preaching it to me for some time.

I was convinced Dan and I would work out a deal and I was pleased to be using it for "Doubleheader." I also used it for a couple of Brunswick hockey games. Alas, he needed it back and the deal was off. I can't spring for the real one (it's $600 -- far more than all of these other mixers I've shown you). It's really feature-rich and I enjoyed it a lot. Maybe eBay will have a deal one day but I have other pressing needs, such as a new headset one day.

Besides, this one was so nice that I worried about getting dust in it during baseball season. Those colored pads on the side would have been nice for playing theme music and sound effects. Like I said, it's really feature-rich. Losing it is why I got this...

I know I've highlighted the Zoom already. Oh, it's not perfect (I could do a whole thing about "mix-minus" but your eyes are glazing already) but I keep calling it "a game-changer."

It's been through multiple hockey games, a baseball game, podcasts, and last week it sat on a window sill at Brunswick for lacrosse. It, too, figures into my Renegades broadcasting plans somehow. It's a wonderful space saver and blah blah blah...

It's all still to be figured out.

I'm amazed if anyone is still reading by this point, but we're not done.

Dan was feeling bad about taking the Rodecaster back, so he gave me this to try. The PreSonus is the one he wanted to actually sell to me months ago and my "Spidey senses" told me that it wasn't the right match. I was right. Oh, this is great, no question. It's big and has Bluetooth built-in but just it's not what I want to spend the money on.

I used it for a few weeks but then, mysteriously, the headphone function stopped working. Now, I have no question that it's "operator error" but it was something I couldn't live with, so it got pulled out yesterday and replaced by the Peavey PV10.

For now. So this is how everything looks, with video depo and broadcasting studios combined.

There will be a purge in the near future. Some things might get sold or returned or "loaned." I often get asked for equipment recommendations and it would be nice to let them try some of these. We'll see. So many decisions and moving parts in play.

So now you know about all the different things I've tried in the past year and this doesn't even include the various setups that went into each version. It's all about finding the right...er...mix.

OK, I'm done on that one.

A little rain must fall

Pour your misery down (Garbage -- the band)

It's a rainy, rather miserable night in New York.

Some are only happy when it rains.

With that said, there's enough gloom, so why add to it?

I just feel like I don't have a huge agenda to write about tonight. I've created (or helped create) three podcasts today. I sat and waited for a radio show that never happened and another podcast got postponed.

In the meantime, I turned down work (for the podcast that postponed) but will pick some more up tomorrow. It all evens out, right.

Have I mentioned I'm not a fan of last-minute things?

And the Renegades will be ramping up further (that's good, to be clear). Think about it. It's April 12th. There are 18 precious days left in this month and the season starts on May 4th. Regardless of whether I'm calling a game that night or not I'll be working as I will be writing game summaries beginning with game number one.

Game number one, in New Jersey, is 22 days away, or three weeks from tomorrow.

That first week will give me time to get to know the players, even from 120 miles away.

But there's much more to come in Gades Talk. Or Tales From the Gades Booth?

Huh.

So, with no radio show today, I couldn't talk about...

The Masters (overall boring)

The Yankees (until late yesterday they were struggling in a lot of troubling ways)

The Mets (why start that game yesterday? Conversely, maybe Stroman could not tweet everything? I mean, you didn't want Bauer due to some of his behavior but Stroman is OK?)

Spring sports in Connecticut (they've officially started and good!)

Replay trouble in Major League Baseball (I mean, the bottom line is to get it right, isn't it?)

Phil Mushnick (making racist, putrid statements about Gary Sanchez needing an interpreter. Isn't it interesting we can criticize others in the industry when it's for this but when it's for other performance issues then it's considered a no-no?)

Perhaps my thoughts would have been a hair more in-depth than that.

Anyway, I have to finish up editing a podcast that John Nash and I just recorded. Anytime I chat with anyone from the Tampa Bay area -- especially someone who was there during the years I was visiting my grandparents -- it takes me to a happy place.

That will be published sometime tomorrow.

So, I'll resume editing.

A quick hello...friends

Hello friends

I'm logging on for a few hundred words or so.

It's a gray, humid day with a chance of rain. Sounds like a perfect day to watch The Masters and focus on other things.

Too much complaining going on. Yes, I do it as well, as I grumbled about the grumblers yesterday.

There was a professional broadcaster who, perhaps looking to curry favor with fans, took a swipe at the current rules in the league he covers. You know, the one where he makes his living. My take was 1) Not the smartest thing to do and 2) be happy you have games to call.

So that can be added to the grievances I aired yesterday.

#Individuals are Teflon™ so we dare not speak ill, lest they send their boys after you.

But I hear stories that just adds to the list.

Anyway, the TV is on. Jim Nantz has said, "Hello friends." The Yankees are also on TV and not playing particularly well but it's a long season.

There are 30 days until the Gades open the home schedule at Dutchess Stadium. In the meantime, my next broadcast is Thursday when Wilton lacrosse comes to Brunswick to play the Bruins. But I should tell you that next Saturday I'm calling the opening day of youth baseball and softball in Milford, PA next Saturday on WYNY Radio. First pitch is at 12:30 and I have three games on the docket.

Now, I'll have a partner, which is fine. But, you might know, I've called -- let's see -- four games in a day alone. I think that's the number. Maybe more.

Off the top of my head, these games will mark the first ones I've called in Pennsylvania.

Anyway, I digress. My understanding is you can catch the call here.

Airing of grievances in three parts

I'm hoping Frank Costanza won't mind if I use the Festivus pole for a few minutes

 

The day kicked in with nonsense. Let us address.

1) Similar to my post of last weekend, it was discovered that the NCAA women's volleyball tournament wouldn't have announcers. So Purdue coach Dave Shondell let his feelings be known. That brought out the "high and mighties" who then launched into, "How dare you suggest we all-knowing of the microphone work for free?"

Look, we all prefer to get paid. Of course, I do. But -- fact -- I'm not where I am without a few strategic decisions in my life. I don't get into the Gades booth at all if I don't offer to join Sean Ford back in 2001. Now it did bring me some pay as a board operator and free food but any time in the booth was on my own.

I might not be in play-by-play at all if not for sticking around my "real" job back in the 90s to work on softball videos. I almost definitely wouldn't know Harold -- one of my closest friends. It's with a tape of me calling softball that I got to be sports director and call games at WGCH.

At other times I've fought terrible emotions and it was getting out to call a game that helped me. Thus it brought me to Fenway Park and other places. I'll tell you right now I would have called the game the night my mother died for free simply because I wanted to be a-n-y-w-h-e-r-e but home.

Oh, Brunswick. Right. If Joe Early doesn't reach out about wanting a professional broadcaster on games? And I offered them my time in the hope that we could build something. Bingo. It built a relationship with Brunswick and a friendship with Joe.

And Mahopac baseball? I've made friends there and got to go back to my high school. They paid me with a treasured sweatshirt. I'd like more there and maybe one day that will happen.

I've got more in the arsenal but here's the overwhelming fact: don't judge. You don't know the whole story. You don't know why I did what I did. Sometimes it was an escape for me. Sometimes it was about building important relationships. Sometimes it leads to huge opportunities, as in 31 days from now.

Basically, it's none of your business and so many of you are hypocrites anyway.

2) To quote Ferris Bueller, "Isms in my opinion are not good. A person should not believe in an ism. They should believe in themself." I saw a tweet that had me so outraged, playing the "ism" card that I nearly screamed (I've decided to not share it here). I also nearly responded to the blue checkmark. I declined on all counts. Short answer: I was asked the same questions you were asked. I was asked if I wanted to be the "next (insert name here)" years ago when I showed any interest in broadcasting. My gender had nothing to do with it.

Don't fall on the easy "ism" sword. It's lazy and unnecessary.

This is my shortest and most polite way to address this because, well, you probably know why. Nothing good comes from it.

3) You all saw DMX died yesterday. To be fair, I know he had great popularity and was a legendary rapper. Can I tell you anything about his music or about his career? No. 

But I can tell you that for a few brief minutes one night years ago, he was a great guy.

Mark Jeffers and I were sitting at Fuel restaurant, inside of Grand Prix New York when this guy walked over and started chatting us up. He was just there to have fun with the family. You know, some bowling, maybe drive a go-kart and play some arcade games. Stuff like that.

Mark is one of the nicest people you'll meet. He'll happily chat away. He's a true people person. I'm more reserved but always try to be polite.

Well, anyway, you can guess where this is going. The guy just wanted to talk with these two radio broadcasters as to why they were sitting at a bar in Mount Kisco, NY inside a big family entertainment center. We told him about "The Clubhouse" and he was genuinely interested in what we had to say.

He couldn't have been nicer, ending our time together by buying each of us a drink.

"You know who that was?" someone asked.

Yeah. DMX.

Talented. Troubled. But for a few minutes with total strangers, a true gentleman. 

Mark and I were the perfect clueless audience to just talk.

Condolences to all.

*****

Last point: I called my first game on the radio today in 1999. My only grievance here is that I don't have a game to call in honor of that as everything got canceled.

Be nice to someone today.

Hit me with your best shot

 

I had to get these for Rascal

It was painless.

I didn't write about it or talk about it.

I wasn't sure I'd even mention it.

I mean, we're all doing it or are supposed to do it. Eventually.

I got the shot. One and done, thanks to Johnson & Johnson.

So it's over for me.

It came together so quickly. My niece Stephanie found that the vaccine was being given at the North Highlands Fire Department in Cold Spring. It was basically a half-hour from home, on the east side of Putnam County.

Thanks to Stephanie pointing the way, I went to a website on Monday and made an appointment for today.

Then I began to worry.

What it will it cost?

What about side effects?

And then there's the small thing that I don't like needles.

So I made the appointment and put it out of my mind. I followed the instructions for any forms to be filled out and made sure I did as told for the appointment.

I also consulted the proper FAQ for answers to my questions.

Side effects? Maybe sore muscles or perhaps some fatigue.

Cost? It's supposed to be completely free, regardless of insurance (or lack thereof).

So that just left the needle thing.

Today was the day. I pulled myself together, including making sure I had my radio equipment ready along with any notes for the lacrosse game I was to call at 4 p.m.

Because, you know, I had to have something scheduled on the same day, but I figured there was enough time between the vaccination and the game.

I was right.

The instructions were to not arrive at the firehouse more than 15 minutes before the appointment. I made good enough time that I was 18 minutes early. So I drove around the Cold Spring area. It's a fine town, Cold Spring is. The village itself -- down at the Hudson River -- is a gem on the Hudson Valley.

As I wasted a few minutes before returning to the firehouse, I discovered that I couldn't find the New York State vaccination form that I had to show proof of filling out. So, I sat on the side of the road and did it again.

At the firehouse, I was directed to a parking spot. After parking, I was directed to a spot outside the rear door where we met by Dave, a volunteer who would guide us to the next phase.

Dave showed patience as he dealt with those waiting for their appointment.

"Who has everything ready," he asked.

A couple of hands went up. Mine included.

It was like passing barriers. I made it to the parking lot. I got a spot. I got on line. Now I was inside the front door before heading to the next stop, where my license was copied.

"You can go to the line on the left," the copy lady said.

The next step was to the registration table. Was this it? Was this simple room, with several circular tables, to be the endgame in a long nightmare?

"Your nurse will be Bev and her assistant is Barb," the registration lady said. "Go to table six."

Bev went over my registration papers. She confirmed everything. Name. Address. Email address. Phone number. 

Right arm? Left arm?

"Which do you use more?" Bev said.

In the end, we chose my right arm since, frankly, I won't be pitching anytime soon. My left, on the other hand (see what I did there?), would be needed to write lacrosse goals down.

Was this it? Didn't I need to go to another room? Wasn't there going to be a private bay for this?  Wait...that's a needled Bev is taking out. 

Bev had me change my position in the chair. I watched a young family at another table while Bev spoke to me.

Barb, was writing out my vaccination card as we spoke.

Bev and I kept chatting and I suddenly had that feeling of wanting to ask her to let me know when she gave me the shot.

Because it was already over.

I felt literally nothing. It was painless.

That was it, except Barb gave me a strip of paper saying that I couldn't leave for 15 minutes.

My appointment was at 10:45. I was there at 10:27. It was now 10:49 and my strip of paper said 11:04.

11:04 a.m. eastern daylight time on Friday, April 9, 2021.

But before I could leave, I had to drive to the adjacent parking lot for observation. Either that or I had to sit in a room back in the fire department. The car made the most sense.

"If you have any issues just wave," Barb told me.

I did some work while I waited. Business, of course, never stops.

Physically, I felt fine, except for a headache. Whatever I did feel, I surmised, was a result of me whipping myself into a tornado of stress. It's my specialty.

I looked at my phone. It was 11:04. I was fine. Nobody in the parking lot was going to sign me out. I didn't need to confirm it. 

I started the car and left.

The day went on. I kept expecting something. Some kind of reaction.

Nothing.

I rant to Wal Mart for some groceries. Then I went home to give Rascal some chicken and waffles-flavored treats.

I made lunch and pulled together more notes for lacrosse.

I called the game. Still no problems.

I made my way home.

I made dinner and now I sit here, nearly 12 hours post-shot, feeling essentially fine.

Save for a small pain in my right arm.

The long-winded point? It was all no big deal. Literally. None of it. The staff was beyond fantastic. It all was so smooth.

When it's your turn, thank those volunteers and the people taking care of you.

And get the shot. 

It was painless.