Remember on Memorial Day

Omaha Beach, 2019 (AP Photo/Thibault Camus)

No long post today. I have literally nothing more to add than to post a link to a story written by Susan.

It's her final Memorial Day section -- a special portion of the Darien Times that she actually had to fight to get published over these last few years.

That, in and of itself, is sad. Susan knew her community and the relationship it felt with the paper. Not everyone gets that.

When she asked me about a dedication for this year's edition, I suggested she thank everyone, with specific regard to those lost (it is Memorial Day after all). It felt like the perfect approach. I knew what Memorial Day meant to her. I knew what her friendship with the late Gene Coyle meant as well and I'm so sorry I forgot to mention him in my speech honoring Susan on Friday. Speaker's regret.

I also didn't mention Susan's father. I really suck.

Anyway, I know her dedication was along those lines and I take no credit because I also know she was thinking of something similar.

Anyway, this is probably the final special Memorial Day section in the Darien Times and I think that's terrible. It shows that Susan understood the community she covered. A community journalist entrenches themselves. They're not there for clicks or cheap stories. They're there to tell the stories without bias and with integrity.

They sit and cry with you and laugh with you and let you yell at them (sometimes to the point of it being abusive).

There's so much more I'd like to say and names that I'd like to name but, as with all stories, they take time to tell.

Like this one, told by Susan, which begins in 1942.

And thank you, brave souls, for your sacrifice so that we can have the freedom that we have.

(Please note: if the Hearst overlords don't allow you to see this story because they want you to pay for it, go here. The story should be read.)

Printed legitimacy

 

My view for the "Renegades Weekly" podcast

For as long as I can remember, Baseball America has published a directory of individuals in baseball. It covers the majors and the minors and other key personnel in the game.

I know I've owned a few editions over the years, including one that I bought at the Winter Meetings in New Orleans in 2003.

Each time I'd tear it apart to learn who did what for which team. I'm pretty sure that's how I found out that Sean Ford was the Renegades broadcaster 20 years ago.

I thought it would be nice to see the 2021 edition, which only came out a few weeks ago.

*****

I had a feeling there was no need to go to the stadium today but we have to go through the motions. Rick Zolzer does his Sunday talk show and I've become a de facto producer/on-site engineer and even a guest. 

I handled those duties and we found out the game was officially off due to the rain just as we were going off the air.

After that, Zach Neubauer and I did our "Renegades Weekly" podcast, which also frees me up tomorrow to do literally not a blasted thing.

With everything done, I decided to take a ride to Barnes and Noble in Poughkeepsie. According to their website, they actually had a copy of the Baseball American Directory. Honestly, I simply wanted to see it before I even considered plunking down $31 (plus tax).

I drove up as the rain poured down.

I walked in.

I went upstairs. Nope, sports is downstairs.

I found sports and...

and...

The book wasn't there.

I didn't hesitate to walk to the customer service desk. A nice girl working behind the counter was sympathetic, looking at the ISBN number on my phone.

"It's possible we have one," she said. "But the website might also be wrong."

We walked back to sports together. I was right in that the book wasn't on the shelf.

"I'll look in the back," she said.

Seconds later, she reemerged with a copy in her hand. I thanked her, took it in my hands, and opened it up.

It was smaller than I remembered and, for a moment, I wondered if it was only for the big leagues.

And then?

I saw it. A headline.

"HUDSON VALLEY RENEGADES"

My eyes scanned the format that I've long been familiar with. There was the office address and phone number and the website. There was the ownership and management. There were the names of my colleagues, superiors, and friends. Steve Gliner, Rick Zolzer, Joe Ausanio, Tysen Jeffers, and Tom Hubmaster. 

It would appear that Zach Neubauer joined after the notes went out for publication. That can also be said about Dan Fiorito and the on-field staff.

And then?

There it was, near the bottom of page 126. Radio Announcer: Nancy and Don's youngest child.

It felt like a coronation. It felt real.

I needed a moment to compose myself before I walked up front and bought it.

One small line of text made the book worth the purchase.

I've never been jaded. I look up in wonder every time my face pops up on the video board or when my voice is heard. I marvel at each tweet that includes my play-by-play (though less so when I don't like the call).

I still smile when I hear something I've done on WGCH.

Like, is this real? Have I really done this?

Yes, apparently, I have.

I've also received a few really kind words from fans, including a couple that trickled back via Rick Zolzer. Plus there were other kind things said from the FCIAC game on Friday.

I definitely appreciate them, despite my preference for "no news being good news."

We'll make today's game up as part of a doubleheader on Friday, June 18. The Gades are now on the road until June 15.

Right now, I have no games until then but we know anything can happen.

When people ask for my bona fides, I'll direct them to the 2021 Baseball America Directory, plage 126. 

(Using an old HVR logo, I might add)

I'm there. 

Finally.

Fate

 

The calm before the storm?

fate [ feyt ]

noun

1. the development of events beyond a person's control, regarded as determined by a supernatural power.

I'm more of what you would call a spiritual fellow.

I buy into fate.

Wow, did it deal some cards yesterday.

I had an early appointment in the morning that I had to make so, despite having been out to call the Gades and getting home after midnight, I was in the car and (grumpily) on the road by 7 a.m.

Over an hour later, I sat in beautiful Fairfield, CT where I could get some wifi and crank out the daily reports for Steve Gliner (and me, for that matter).

Wisely, I had packed my trusty Zoom Podtrax P4 in case Zach Neubauer wanted to record "Rob's Roundup." I'm always toting some equipment around just in case a call falls in my lap.

Huh. Keep that in mind. #Preparation

I expected to go to Fairfield, do things around Fairfield County, then buzz home, pick up Sean (maybe record "Rob's Roundup" there) and head to Dutchess Stadium.

Along came fate, part one. Kevin Devaney, Jr texted me about the FCIAC baseball championship. I knew Greenwich and Fairfield Warde were the participants and I was on the call when Greenwich and Fairfield (pre-"new" Warde) met in the 2004 title game.

It seemed crazy for me but I knew Kevin was in a bind. Could I get to Stamford, call the game, get back to Mahopac, pick up Sean, and get to Dutchess Stadium AND keep my sanity?

I had equipment. I had a headset, the P4, a larger mixer if needed, other microphones and cables, etc.

I asked Susan and, at first, she was supportive of whatever I thought was best. I could read between the lines and, finally, she admitted to me that she thought I should do it.

I admit I've felt a little left behind by the FCIAC and just wondered if it was over. I'm still not convinced it's not over.

But, fate. I got to work on building up my knowledge base of Greenwich and Warde and always had my reserve of 20 years of FCIAC baseball knowledge. I was in.

So onto Stamford I went, struggling in the Memorial Day weekend holiday traffic.

I made my way into Cubeta Stadium where I was greeted by FCIAC Commissioner Dave Schulz.

"You've got a voice!" I said.

"Not just any voice," he replied. "The best voice!"

I was flying high now. I was bouncing like that GIF of WWE Chairman Vince McMahon.

I wrote the lineups. I had the rosters. I had notes from Greenwich, thanks to former player Luc Thibeault and Zach Karson.

I felt like Sally Field. “This time I feel it. And I can’t deny the fact that you like me. Right now, you like me!”

Someone asked where I have been. I'm still here, friends. I'm here for any school or organization that wants me. I treasure the games and these years. 

I know it's fleeting and, today, that's all over, but it felt great at the moment. So I called the game, working with the great DJ Furano as my trusty cameraman. 

Warde beat Greenwich 9-0. I know Cardinals fans are disappointed and maybe even upset at me but I try to give the fairest broadcast possible. I like both schools and, regardless, I have to be impartial. Only my knowledge of GHS can lean the needle slightly, but I had Shawn Sailer on standby in case more Warde info was needed.

People texted me and messaged me throughout the day, making me feel like I was an old friend who had come home. They were beyond kind.

In the meantime, I had already heard that the Renegades game might be off. Nobody minded that I was calling the FCIAC and they knew I'd fly to the stadium, but the stress could be lightened with a delay and/or postponement.

I got the text that the Gades game was off before the FCIAC game was over. That changed the tenor of the day entirely.

Again, fate.

I knew there would be a party in Darien at 5 p.m. to honor Susan. It had been a source of friction all week. She likes the attention on the newspaper and the stories but never on her. Worst of all, the one person she might have wanted there (I could be wrong) would be in a booth in Wappingers Falls. No question I was bummed about that.

But now, as it was past 3:30, there it was like a hanging curveball. It was already on my mind before she texted me.

"Can you come today then?"

Of course, I could. I was already planning on it. I texted Sean, told him I'd order him dinner, texted Jeff Semancik at Z93 and told him to prepare for a doubleheader on Saturday, and met Susan in Darien.

Despite her reservations, I tried to get a few other friendly faces to wander to the party as a late surprise. I never wanted her to go through this alone if only to have someone to lean on.

I joked that I'd speak at the party. Shockingly, Darien first selectman Jayme Stevenson had already asked.

The party was quite nice, even with Susan's modest reservations. Friday, May 28th, 2021 was named "Susan Shultz Day" in Darien. A proclamation from the CT General Assembly was also read by State Rep. Terrie Wood.

(Note: I had predicted both of those things)

But this was far more than political types speaking. The outpouring of love was amazing and something that her former employers at Hearst should have to hear and have smothered on their eyelids.

Her former intern spoke. The owner of the Darien News Store made sure to visit and was too visibly emotional to speak. Other people whom Susan had impacted spoke of their love for her. A note was read from the Darien police department.

What could I add?

Fate.

Fate that I was there. Fate that I knew so much about the ins and outs of the Darien Times and the town. 

I didn't even get into the fate of our friendship, which started because she knew I was the one person at the Wilton Bulletin who would actually respond to her about stories.

It finally hit me, as I knew Susan would not speak -- and she made that clear -- that I was sort of her...wait for it..."voice."

Yes. Me. "The Voice of Susan."

"What would she say?" John Sini asked me.

I kept it simple.

"She'd say, 'Thank you, Darien.'"

She'd want to thank you for allowing her to tell your stories.

She cried. I tried not to.

People hugged and said it was the party with the most soul they'd ever been to.

Fate poured down like the drenching rain outside that I walked through, carrying the proclamations and gifts back to my car.

Fate got me back home.

I doubt I'll ever appreciate a rainstorm more than last night.

New York, New York

 

It started in 1980 and I can remember hearing it as I prepared to leave Yankee Stadium.

"Start spreading the news. I'm leaving today..."

It just sounded right. So full of grace and class. A song about the city. Not, not just any city.

The City.

"I want to be a part of it..."

And with all due respect to literally anyone else singing the John Kander/Fred Ebb tune, there's really only one true version.

Frank Sinatra, baby. Francis Albert. "The Chairman of the Board," which is also Whitey Ford's nickname.

Sinatra. Dodgers fan. Yet he granted George Steinbrenner permission to play the song at Yankees games. Take that, Tommy Lasorda.

Oh, it's been played at other sporting events, such as the Rangers, and of course, the high-stepping version that Liza Minella did on the field at Shea Stadium at Sep 11, 2001.

The Yankees tried at one point to use Minelli's version after losses and Sinatra's after wins. That actually works well but Minelli didn't appreciate it and the idea was shelved.

So it's all Frank now.

It's got the obnoxiousness we New Yorkers appreciate but it's also got that gravitas that other songs just can't touch.

You can have "Sweet Caroline" and "Dirty Water." 

We have Sinatra.

I appreciated it when I heard places like Trumbull's Babe Ruth baseball program play the song -- correctly titled "Theme from New York, New York" -- following games at Trumbull High School.

Even in Connecticut, it just sounded right.

And now, I'm so proud that I'm hearing it at Dutchess Stadium. At least after wins, Sinatra's voice boomed out of the PA system. I hope that continues because, selfishly, it makes my heart feel good.

It sounds like baseball and the Yankees.

For what it's worth, it would also make my mom smile, as she loved that song.

"Play it louder so you can feel the bass," she'd say.

So I'd like to think there would be a little pride in that.

The Gades play the Yankees' classic theme song, "Here Come the Yankees," when the team takes the field each night. Playing "Theme from New York, New York" only caps things off.

I had no influence on the decision but I love that the crew in the PA booth are playing these songs.

It's great to listen to as I do the postgame and write my game story. There's a lesson in the coda of "Theme from New York, New York"  -- punctuated magnificently by Sinatra -- that anyone can appreciate.

"If I can make it there, I'm gonna make it anywhere. 

"It's up to you New. York. New YOOOOORRRRRRRKKKKK.

"NEW YOOOOORRRRRRRRRKKKKKKKKKKK."

And the crescendo crashes to its end.

It's the perfect end to the night.

Bravo, Renegades.

Here's to spreading the news again tonight.

Four hours? Didn't feel like it

You never want to see the tarp on the field

The dark skies were an ominous sign.

Games in Brooklyn, Somerset (NJ), and the Bronx had all been postponed.

The radar looked questionable and the tarp was on the field.

Yet, with just a 16-minute delay, the Renegades played and completed a 10 inning contest last night at Dutchess Stadium.

The result? Jersey Shore 6, Hudson Valley 3. The Gades had a lead going into the ninth before the BlueClaws tied it with two out and then won it in the 10th.

Total time on the air, including commercials? Three hours and fifty-six minutes.

Somehow, it didn't feel like that.

Don't get me wrong, as it wasn't the most crisply-played game ever. There were errors, passed balls, wild pitches, a manager ejection, mound visits, a balk, moments of heavy rain, and perhaps more that I'm forgetting.

In a remarkable newsflash, it was hardly flawless play-by-play by the broadcaster either.

Yet I soaked it all up.

Granted, I sat for the call, which isn't entirely usual. I stand so often unless the circumstances are prime for me to sit.

My position at Dutchess Stadium doesn't make standing easy as I have equipment that would block my view.

So I sit on a high stool and call the action.

As we went on the air at 7 p.m. -- five minutes before our normal first pitch -- I had to fill some time due to the threat of the weather. So I read the league leaders and the standings and the schedule and described what I was watching on the field.

It was only 21 minutes of fill time before the first pitch and the National Anthem took up a few of those, so it wasn't really heavy lifting.

Poor Sean didn't have the option of sitting, as he stood behind a camera until I implored him to rest between innings.

Having suffered from foot pain my entire life, I sympathize with him.

Other camera people stood and endured the weather. None of us were immune from the events of the evening. The entire crew made the night work.

On the way home, I warned Sean of what is yet to come.

"We're just getting started," I said. "We haven't had a real four-hour-plus slobber knocker yet."

We haven't dealt with a long rain delay yet, either.

He's just getting started and learning to love it and I actually think he does.

And, clearly, when it settles in, I love it all too.

Nearly four hours on the air and nearly eight in the ballpark? 

Sure! Why not?

You have to be a little crazy to do what we do.

From last night

 

Shockingly, I enjoyed last night's broadcast.

I was pleased with telling stories on Tradition Tuesday. Talk about the 1936 Yankees? Sure, I can do that.

I tried to stop at times for some natural sound. But I also tried to laugh (mostly at myself) and let listeners know what a joy it is to call baseball.

The descriptions felt good also.

And, yes, I'll nitpick. I blew the final out. My position isn't great and I missed the movement on the pitch. What I thought was a two-seam fastball with movement was more likely a sweeping slider or another breaking pitch. That gnaws at me as I see it shared on social media (and as I type this).

Totally on me.

I make dumb mistakes. I know that. 

I need to chill. I'm my own worst enemy.

But Sean was happy, actually doing a fist pump when he saw the replay (replay? Yes!) of a home run that he shot.

We both gave the night a passing grade.

As for feedback, I didn't receive any from anyone (save for an "I enjoyed listening") and I'm completely fine with that. No nitpicks from anyone else. No praise. No criticisms. Nothing.

Technical concerns were limited to my light in the booth not working. A minor inconvenience as I used my iPhone when needed.

Plus it was a game that was just great. A 3-2 Gades win. Good pitching, timely hitting, minimal base-on-balls, two mound visits all night. It was crisp and fun.

I suppose the point is I did my job and it went fine. 

Let's do it again today.

Last night is gone.

Momentum is today's broadcast.

Mamba Out

 

I've reached an impasse.

I considered naming this post "Rob Adams's Day Off" but I felt that it's really not a day off for me. In fact, I'm working right now. I've already recorded a segment for the Renegades. I've been creating reports for the Gades and still have research and a game to call.

Plus, I'm writing this.

I'm considering a full day off next Monday on Memorial Day. Why not? I have nowhere to go or be with. Sean will be gone and it will be just Rascal and me. So no "Doubleheader" and maybe (probably/hopefully?) nothing else. I might jump in the car and just...go.

Or I might just sit here and shut down.

Will I post? Probably. I've done 878 days in a row of...something. It's hard to predict the future. I can barely predict the day.

Anyway, this is the post for today. 

Thanks for stopping by.

Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Marvin Gaye.

Not feeling it

 

I started to write.

I deleted it.

Some nights I just don't like the flow or the topic or whatever. 

Instead, I'm content to just admit defeat tonight and walk away.

Back at the ballpark tomorrow.

I've also taken on a depo job in the morning (after rejecting one that would have started at 3:30 a.m.).

So I'll work for a few hours and go to the stadium.

I'll be able to put some reports together and do game prep as the case goes on tomorrow morning.

Then? Baseball.

Let's try again tomorrow.

(Note: I'm not blue or down. More mellow than anything else and uninspired. So I thought of the Blues and that led me to "Kind of Blue" which is among the greatest and most brilliant albums ever created. Nothing deeper than that.)

On such a spring night

 

I feel sort of blocked tonight.

Whenever I get to this spot, I always say that I have topics. I do. But quite often it's a case of just not having the energy to dig and expound and expand.

True.

I have a documentary on about the Laurel Canyon music scene and Roger McGuinn of The Byrds is telling Jakob Dylan that, basically, The Beatles changed his life. The lads basically were playing folk chords on "I Want to Hold Your Hand" and it impacted him.

Well, yeah, of course.

So this gives me something to watch and ponder as the day winds down.

I can listen to musicians talk for hours.

We used to have musicians come on "In Greenwich," the show that Craig Jones and I hosted on WGCH. Inevitably, the musicians would be stunned to find out that I have no musical training because they appreciated my knowledge, which I was so grateful for.

I get easily sucked into music documentaries. If there's something Beatles-related, I'm in, for instance.

In this case, the Laurel Canyon movement was pretty profound.

"The Beatles actually started folk rock in California," Tom Petty said.

That makes me happy, of course.

See what I mean? I'm sucked in now.

I have such admiration for musicians. It's the thing I wish I could have done (if I wasn't a sports broadcaster, of course).

Listening to Brian Wilson or Petty or Michelle Phillips tell stories just transfixes me.

Michelle Phillips is talking about how her then-husband John told her they had to stay in New York because the music business was there. But then he woke up her up one night and started singing...

"All the leaves are brown and the sky is gray."

To California, they went. Dreamin' all the way with "McGuinn and McGuire just a-gettin' higher in L.A., you know where that's at..."

Complete and incredible brilliance. The strong voices of Denny Doherty and Cass Elliot (Mama Cass, of course) with the songwriting of John Philips and harmonies of Michelle Phillips.

The Mamas and The Papas, of course.

So, yeah, I'm locked into this now.

I'll leave you there.

If you haven't embraced it, go check out some of the music of that era. Or rediscover it.

Thanks, Brunswick

 

The first handshake line in a long time

Seasons change...

Suddenly, I'm fighting the urge to quote Exposé. They were a briefly popular 80s all-girl pop trio. Don't worry. I won't.

But, yes, seasons change and school years end, and time marches on.

In the life of a freelance play-by-player with no contracts and simple agreements, things can change fast. Oh, I have examples.

So part of me gets quite sad when a season ends like it did yesterday for my coverage of Brunswick baseball and today for Wick lacrosse. You make relationships and there's always turnover.

With that, we've reached the end of the line for 2020-2021, at least at Brunswick. The good news is that Wayne McGillicudy and I are already talking about football this fall, along with maybe some soccer and whatever else is needed.

It's amazing how few people know that I've actually been around Wick a lot longer than the past five years. We actually dabbled in calling games there 20 years ago. We did a small schedule of hockey games as well as some basketball and, eventually, football. But we've been a fairly consistent presence since 2016.

I don't take it for granted, especially now. I went nearly a year between Brunswick games before they called for hockey. 

Each team that I've covered (hockey, basketball, baseball, soccer, football, lacrosse, and water polo) seems to appreciate that, for the most part, I stay out of the way. I'd like to think they also appreciate that I'm fair and honest. While they might want me to be a homer, I think it's respected that I'm not.

The thing that I think often gets missed is that I'm not committed to any one team (except for the Renegades). The fluidity of these situations makes it so tenuous and that's why I'd like to actually call one place home.

Team. Company. Whatever.

That comes with a level of security. Plus benefits.

Alas, here we are.

With that, we say our farewells to Brunswick for a few months, with thanks to each team, Wayne, and AD Ron Van Belle. I look forward to rejoining you if you'll have me.

And Greenwich? Well, what can I say? This would be my 24th season covering the Cardinals. It's also my 20th -- COVID included -- as lead broadcaster on Greenwich football. But I assume nothing.

I'm not sure there will be any other high school games before late summer either. I was locked into a Mahopac softball game and it appears it got canceled, though I'm told they're also looking for a new opponent.

Right now, I'm supposed to call a Babe Ruth tourney. Plus there's the chance of some other stuff.

Mike Hirn would take me in Ohio in a heartbeat as he has more games than he knows what to do with. Don't rule that out if the timing is right.

I'm back with the Renegades on Tuesday.

Decorating the booth

 

Renegades President and GM Steve Gliner joined me on the air for a stretch last week and asked about decorating the booth.

Oh, I've been thinking about that and by the end of the homestand, I added a few things from home.

There's a key to this. Things will fall off the walls if they aren't hung just right. A cross breeze can roll through if the window and door are both open.

So, using push pins, I hung up pictures of Lou Gehrig and old Yankee Stadium as well as a few other things, including a piece of baseball stadium art that Paul Silverfarb gave me.

Then it hit me; I want to honor the heroes of my business.

Will I just do one picture or a collage?

We all know the one picture. I mean, seriously, unless you've been living under a rock, you know who it is.

It's Mike Hirn. Of course.

OK, yeah, maybe Vin Scully also.

Anyway, I gave it some thought. If I go with a collage, these are the names I would consider:

- Vin Scully (because, duh)

- Red Barber (see the explanation of Vin)

- Mel Allen (I mean, he's "The Voice of the Yankees")

- Dick Enberg (The Renaissance Man)

- A group photo of Frank Messer, Phil Rizzuto, and Bill White (my Yankees youth. The first voices that grabbed me).

- Bobby Murcer (but I'd prefer it to be a broadcasting picture)

- Bob Costas (because, frankly, he's one of the greats).

So these are the people who have inspired me so much. Now, should I include Doc Emrick, despite him not being a baseball broadcaster?

Are there others I'm missing, keeping in mind this is a personal project? So, no, let's avoid some obvious choices, shall we?

Or should I just leave it at a picture of Vin and call it a day?

Today was a good day

Today was a good day.

There was nothing special about it. Well, maybe not to you.

But, to me, it was fun and laughter and love.

There was no heavy lifting. It was just a good day.

There was a good lunch.

There was calling basketball in May. A little different? Sure. But it was still a good thing.

The game brought me down into White Plains, which is very much an area at the foundation of my father's family.

He was born in Hartsdale and his parents were both products of central and lower Westchester County.

I also worked in White Plains and lower Westchester for years.

Those were times when I was young and dumb (dumber than I am now if you can believe that). I was naive and easily bullied and wow I really could write a book.

But the game also had me close enough to Mamaroneck, meaning I could visit my holy land of Sal's Pizza. 

Yup. It's still great.

I reflected on all of it as I drove home. I thought about the game and the pizza and the love and the music that was playing on the radio.

I looked at the building I used to work in when I was in White Plains. It's gated now so one can't just drive into the parking lot anymore.

Time marches on. That's how it goes.

I found myself wanting to finish the day sitting near a fire, sipping a beverage, and having a deep conversation about music. Just engaging my mind and not caring about debate.

The day finished up with some baseball as I watched the Renegades beat Brooklyn.

Plus the Yankees played earlier today and won.

And there was still the buzz of Corey Kulber from last night, hurling the 12th no-hitter (postseason included) in the history of the Yankees.

I could go on about that and why I still think it's significant. I could also go on about how I'm still in shock over it.

George Mogridge and Sad Sam Jones and Monte Pearson and Allie Reynolds (twice) and Don Larsen and Dave Righetti and Jim Abbott and Dwight Gooden and David Wells and David Cone...and Corey Kuber.

Pretty cool.

Yes, today was a good day.

Just tired (Pre-Kluber)

 

(I wrote this before Corey Kluber did what he did tonight and there's not enough time to start over so we'll go with this.)

I've hit another one of those ruts.

Maybe I'm just too tired tonight.

I don't know.

I did The Clubhouse and we had great guests on in Steve Gliner of the Renegades and Tom Laidlaw, the one-time New York Rangers player who is a really well-rounded guy. Both great interviews.

I'm watching the Gades and, well, there's always tomorrow.

I popped on another broadcaster to get a real sense of their work. I will offer no analysis except to say using "we" as a play-by-play announcer is, to me, almost fatal. I don't like it, as in, "We just scored a run," or, "That will bring in another run for us."

I realize there are moments where I am part of the organization and yet I still find that I'm always careful in my use of the term. But, in the game? No. Not at all.

"We" didn't score the run or hit the ball or make the catch. The Renegades did. The IronBirds did. "They" did.

I don't play for the team -- Greenwich, Brunswick, Mahopac, Hudson Valley, Fairfield Prep. I'm lucky to have a small piece of involvement.

My game plan for tomorrow has changed. I was supposed to call Brewster at Mahopac baseball but Local Live needs me for basketball -- yes, really -- at Stepinac in White Plains. I'm going to call St. Joseph-by-the-Sea and Cristo Rey. The Vikings of Sea requested a voice and they're getting me.

This isn't my first time calling a Sea game. I called their visit to St. Peter (aka "St. Peetahs") when the two tangled back in 2014.

They're from Staten Island. I know someone from Staten Island. Thus, they're "Peetahs." Lovingly, of course.

I'll see Mahopac for softball next week. I'll also see Brunswick for baseball and lacrosse this weekend.

Wait. I already wrote all of this, didn't I?

The days start blending together.

I could describe the Hot Pocket I just had for dinner.

*****

OK, so Corey Kluber just pitched the 12th no-hitter (World Series included) in Yankees history. I don't have words. I'm actually in shock.

Stepping back

That's Sheldon's spot

 It's a lay-low kind of night.

The Gades are on soon and I'll watch them. Or I can listen to them and watch the Yankees. Or some other combination.

I did "Doubleheader" for the first time in a week today. I also worked in the video depo world and did myriad other gigs.

So I think I'm ready to chill out. 

"The Clubhouse" is back on tomorrow night and you'll have to tune in to hear it as it will have a Renegades edge to it.

I'm also calling baseball later in the week for Mahopac and Brunswick along with one more Brunswick lacrosse game.

After that, it will be mostly about the Renegades and a few other things.

So, tonight, I think I just want to watch baseball, write the Gades game story after it's over, and just enjoy myself.

Gratitiude. That's what I find myself feeling tonight. As the masks start coming off some more and the world moves onto whatever we are now, I find myself grateful.

Be good to each other and play nice.

I'm heading to the couch. That's sort of my spot. If I had a spot.

Baseball is calling.

Relax and reflect

 

Purely to make sure I turn the right microphone on.

I won't write about the Gades every day but I hope you'll forgive me if I do.

Never have I felt so exhilarated.

Rarely have I worked so hard on a broadcast, let alone six.

I've known this exhaustion from days at Ingalls Rink and Mohegan Sun and Cooperstown and Trumbull High School and Brien McMahon High School. It's good exhaustion.

There were many kind words. There were a few demons in my head.

Now that six games are in the books, I just have to remind myself to relax.

I have to not try too hard but I care so much about this. When I judged my opening night performance as "meh," I got more than a couple of messages about that. They didn't think I was "meh" at all.

That's just me. I always want to be better.

It should come as no surprise that I had bouts of self-doubt throughout the week. My confidence got swiped at times. This shouldn't shock you.

But it didn't change my energy. When it all settles in this is way too much fun.

And it's just beginning.

Enough about me. It's not about me.

This first week doesn't happen without Steve Gliner and Joe Ausanio and Zach Neubauer and Rick Zolzer and Tyson Jeffers.

It doesn't happen without Sean Adams and Sam Eisenbaum and the vendors and concessionaires and Tom Hubmaster, working his crew to make the stadium look great.

I don't know everyone's name. I wish I did.

I know Zach runs the Renegades Retail store.

I know there's another Zach in the front office. 

I know Joe Small, one of Zolz's interns. Like me, he's a guy who wants to do his best. He'll get there.

I know Dan who has stood sentry over the suite deck on third base side since I was first calling games at Dutchess Stadium and who loves to talk about Yogi Berra.

Not Yogi Bear, despite what Sam Eisenbaum might think. Sam directs the video feed for MiLB.tv and I only met him Tuesday night. Despite the fact we don't directly work together, we do work together. He's directing Sean and Sam is listening to me blabber for three hours a night. Sam is reacting to what I say. Now that I have a monitor in the booth, I can see what he's putting on the screen.

This just makes all of us better.

And if you didn't see how we handled the video board problem over the weekend, well, I couldn't be prouder to be a part of this organization. We made the best of it and laughed at it.

It was, to quote Benjamin Hill, "Minor League Baseball at its best."

Now comes a week, basically, away while the team is in Brooklyn. I might wind up at the stadium for one reason or another and have a few things to do as they pop up.

But I can think about all of it. I can think about how to get better at it. As I wrote last week, I'm settling into the rhythm of it all. Understanding the timing of the lineups and which reports to generate and who to generate them to and the process of setting it all up.

Susan texted me a few times and told me to be proud of myself and that she was proud of me. The funny thing is I was saying the same thing to Sean. I'm really proud of him.

I'm also really proud of Susan, by the way, and this post is absolutely gorgeous. I'm glad there are those who realize what they're losing. The rest will figure it out and, if they don't, shame on them.

As for me?

I'm proud that we're here. 

I've hit the ground running and I want more.

I'm proud of that.

The Peraza factor

 

(Photo: New York Yankees)

It's currently Oswald Peraza's world and we're living in it.

The young shortstop has been wowing fans with five home runs this week. He's hitting .349 entering today's game.

His home runs -- he previously hit five in 622 career at-bats -- are being shared all over social media.

So far, I'm glad to say all of the chatter has been about Peraza. Nothing (to my knowledge) has been said about the camera production or -- blech -- the broadcaster.

That's the way (uh-huh, uh-huh) I like it (uh-huh, uh-huh).

Attention beast. Sure. That's me. Not.

I'm perfectly content to have it all fly under the radar.

Don't get me wrong. I appreciate a kind word. It's humbling and often embarrasses me but it is appreciated. But, with the good must go the bad, so I'm just as content to generally hear nothing.

I don't crave feedback. Again, I'm so grateful for kind words and my world has been very supportive this week.

I especially appreciated the note I received about how I was doing when I said was distracted.

"I couldn't tell," they said.

And I got a quiet text last night with a quick word of encouragement. It struck the right chord.

Yet I'm just as content to have the focus be on Peraza and the game, as it should be.

The calls have been shared in stories by The New York Post and Pinstripe Alley and in tweets by MLB Pipeline among others.

To be honest, at this point, I just keep waiting for someone to tell me they saw or heard something on the YES Network.

Keep in mind, even if they only show the video without the audio, that will include the work of Sean and I'll be incredibly proud of that. It's about Sean and the rest of our great broadcast team, led by director "Singin'" Sam Eisenbaum.

I told Sean about the attention this is all receiving and he was pretty blown away. Last night's home run in the bottom of the first has been viewed over 21,000 times.

Earth-shattering? Not really. But it's a different level of attention for my own work. It's happened before, sure (2015 girls state hockey championship in CT, for instance).

This is different though.

So I'm just content to be a vocal witness to the efforts of Oswald Peraza as he continues to light the Hudson Valley up.

By the way, thanks to Rascal (the raccoon, not the cat) eating through the wires at Dutchess Stadium (that's our story and we're sticking with it), my pregame segment will be live again today. So if you're at Dutchess Stadium, watch out for "Rob's Roundup" featuring my special guest Sean Adams.

Yes. You've read that correctly. Zach Neubauer thought it would be fun to touch on the father/son angle of the Gades' broadcasting duo.

Look for it around 4:00 this afternoon.

Cathartic

 

There are moments when bombs are going off around you. 

You're distracted. You're stammering. You're making mistakes.

You're having a remarkable inner fight in which you're telling yourself things.

You pick your moments to take a deep breath.

Drink it all in.

You're trying too hard and you know it.

And then?

Boom.

Something unleashes in your soul. 

It feels good. No, great. Your throat hurts just a little from the rising decibels. 

There's part of you that wants to break out a "trademark" call.

"It is high! It is far! It is...." No.

"You can put it on the BOOOOOOAAARRRRDDDD..." No.

"That ball is OUTTA..." No.

"SEE..." No.

No and no.

Keep it natural. Describe and react. Don't create.

I gushed about the home run itself. Heck, I wanted to watch it again. I could tell that was a different call.

I've probably watched it ten times since.

And just when you thought that was it, along comes BOOM Part Two: Electric Boogaloo.

No matter what else happens, you have those calls to think about on the ride home.

And you get to laugh when Zach Neubauer sends you an email with "khtfkkhgfkf" because he just wanted something in the subject line. It included the score graphic for the game story that I wrote.

Baseball. Shake off any imperfections and get back at it.

The postgame buzz

 

Some nights just don't work. You drag yourself back home.

Other nights you're exhilarated. Things might not have gone as desired but there's an energy you can't shake.

That was last night. Sure, I made a mistake. It's not the first time, I owned it, made fun of myself, and moved on. I didn't harp on it or really beat myself up over it. I actually -- GASP! -- cut me some slack.

It's true. The game got over and, at first, all of the adrenaline drained from me. I'm used to that. I wrote my game story and Vice President & Assistant General Manager Tyson Jeffers helped me post it online. But after that was done, Zach Neubauer came into the studio fired up and my energy shot back. He was trying to run cables to install a monitor in the booth for me to view the MILB.tv feed. That would be fantastic, as I could react much more to what is being produced by Sam, Zach, Sean, and company.

So we stuck around to help Zach with running cables through the ceiling and looked over some equipment. The Renegades borrowed some of my audio gear so Zach and I looked that over and talked about his idea for installing the monitor.

He thought he might stay longer. On another night, I would have joined him.

The stadium was quiet, save for a blower cleaning up garbage. The lights were dimmed. The air was cool.

But Sean's feet hurt and he was clearly exhausted. He's getting used to the grind.

Zach was content to call it a night.

Sean and I were driving home when I told him the truth.

"If you weren't so tired," I said, "I'd probably still be there."

But to be clear, I'm grateful because it forced me to step away and go home. Despite the energy rush, I was tired also. If I really wanted to stay, Sean could have sat down and waited. I'm a veteran of foot issues, having dealt with pain in my soles forever. But Sean gave me the best excuse to get home and get some sleep, which I actually did.

Breaking news: I slept until an alarm woke me up! Film at 11!

As we got in the car, I told Sean we had passed the midway point of the first homestand.

He smiled. A glimpse of pride at what he's accomplished appeared. He's enjoying it. He's growing right in front of my eyes.

He even praised his old man.

"Your energy is impressive on those broadcasts," he said. He noted that I sounded disappointed in the final out of the game because it was then over.

Actually, I was struggling to see through the lights as a fly ball went the warning track in right center field. But, he's not wrong either.

Game 4 is tonight.    

Learning the rhythm

I'm happy. Seriously.

Time is short this morning.

I'm getting the feel for life with the Gades. Things evolve and new duties appear. I think we're getting closer to allowing a guest in the booth -- if everyone is comfortable.

For the record, I am.

But, for now, I'm making sure that things are settling into a routine. At first, there were things we were going to do. Then it changed. Then it changed back. Being flexible and patient is key.

So, again, it's the routine for me. In my organized way, I made a written list of the reports to generate every day for each person that needs them.

There comes a point of peace. For Sean, who's still new to this, it can seem boring. For me, who's used to it, it's blissful.

Because at a moment's notice, it's game on.

In my case, it's the arrival of the lineups. Due to COVID, that's a process. President and GM Steve Gliner was the MVP, taking a photo of the lineup card which came in very handy.

From there, I got to work creating a lineup sheet for Rick Zolzer and two stringers in the press box, and ultimately, me. It's more than just type in the names. There are stats to enter as well. So, at that moment, quiet is needed.

Then I run down through the gift shop to the printer in the office to get back to the booth.

Again, it will settle into a routine.

I also add those names to my score card. Then I write the defensive alignment. Plus I prepare my computer with the notes and items I want.

It will get easier.

But it's also chaos.

I signed my score card from the other night for some reason. I don't know. I guess I just want the souvenir. Trust me -- no Hall of Fame will be calling for it.

One last thing: this tweet and few others from the team feature my play-by-play. They also feature the camerawork of Sean. Pretty special.

And that lineup card? The losing pitcher wasn't on the Aberdeen roster. Through a simple process of elimination, thanks to the lineup card, I scanned the available right-handed pitchers. Luis Perez hadn't appeared in a game. Bingo. Number 39 had to be him and it was, as I confirmed from a member of the Aberdeen staff at the end of the night.

Preparation and organization. Part of a daily nutritious breakfast.

The morning after

This is a good name for this post

 I've called 11 FCIAC football championships.

Countless other title games. I mean, I could count, but I don't have the time.

I've called minor league baseball.

Minor league hockey.

College basketball.

Etc.

I've called five games in a day.

I've called three hockey championships over a Friday and Saturday, left after the third game, drove to the next game site for basketball, walked in at halftime, and was ready to dive into that one before getting thrown out. So I drank coffee, waited, and then called the last basketball game.

I don't think I've ever been this wiped out and if someone thinks they can think of another time, please tell me.

Was it exhilarating? Yes. 

Was it fun? Yes.

Was it perfect? Hell...to...the...no.

Let's start with "Doubleheader." That was a mistake. The camera on the phone I was using wasn't getting the right audio. Strike one. Things were apparently freezing. Strike two. Then the internet company pulled service down.

Strike. Three.

So, here's the deal. "Doubleheader" is either not happening today (or for the foreseeable future at Dutchess Stadium) or it's going audio ONLY until I figure things out. 

As the show went on, the Aberdeen IronBirds changed their lineup. Twice. They completely redid it before game time, leaving all of us scrambling.

Last-minute isn't quite my jam, and there was very little chance to breathe from, basically, the time I woke up yesterday. To be clear, I'm not complaining but there was a lot of moving parts.

There was plenty of good. Even great. Road friends Dan Murphy and Steve Alpert came to the ballpark and that was a great surprise. My cousin Ron and his lovely Mary were there. Kris and Logan were there. Sure, they were there for the ballgame, but they were there at least a little bit because of me.

Z93 was fantastic to work with. The broadcast sounded great. Jeff is my board-op and he was a cool customer. That's so important. The crew for MiLB.tv, with Sam directing, Nick on a camera, some kid named Sean on another camera, and Zach running around, did a great job also.

Sean -- yes, him -- was by my side all night. He had his own ups and downs (including a sore back from the camera setup, which we will try to fix today). At 19, he's too young for back problems. But he had his own nerves which helped to calm me a bit as I got to be "Dad" and not worry about my tasks.

And we had a flashback moment, where I told him to look at the crowd waiting to get it and how he was already in the stadium. That's a callback to the same thing I said to him at Ripken Stadium in Aberdeen when he was six. It was a small but sweet moment of serendipity.

But I'm super proud of him. He did a nice job, as I saw on MiLB.tv when I got home.

Even my parents were represented on the night because my pregame "Rob's Roundup" segment was filmed, in part, from their dining room.

Hey, for what it's worth, I can't get MiLB.tv to work on my phone. Can anyone else? If I paid for it, I'd be livid.

There were other things that were planned and didn't happen or didn't work. You didn't know about it, and that's good. There were other things you did know about, such as the webstream. Savvy users figured out where to go (or saw my Facebook page).

Pro tip: Do that again tonight.

As for the game? Well, there's another one tonight. The Gades got two hits and lost 4-0.

And my own performance? Meh. Did you expect a different answer? I thought overall my play-by-play was fine because I simplified it. I didn't dig for every last note. Not last night. Things were too wacky and I just wanted to concentrate on the game.

Clear the mechanism, right?

I did read some really kind comments that bolstered me. 

I did a small highlight package that you can find here.

So, that's one. With lots more to go.

*****

Today, Susan finishes her last edition of the Darien Times. I've written about her and what she means before. She is a simply remarkable journalist, writer, and human being. Her next position is a gain for them. Her loss is profound for Darien. I simply wanted to put a few words here to acknowledge her. There's so much more to say but even I have restraint.

Good nerves

 

It was Oct 17, 2019. That's 572 days ago, in case you're wondering.

Finally. The day has arrived.

It's Opening Night for the Hudson Valley Renegades.

I've gone through every emotion possible since then. In fact, I've gone through them probably a dozen times.

The pure joy is getting the opportunity. The anxiousness of that first offseason. The despair of the pandemic. The worry that the day might never happen. The shock of becoming a Yankees affiliate. 

I'll be nervous tonight. You bet I will. Even though I've got plenty of Gades calls under my belt, this is different.

Now it's real. It was someone else's booth those other times, even when I was filling in.

Tonight, the booth is mine.

I've written about these nerves before and have even had someone argue with me about them.

Sure. OK. What's there to argue about? Being nervous means I care about the quality of the product and that I'm humble enough to know that I'm lucky to be here.

It's more than acceptable to be nervous. I want everything to be perfect. Unattainable? Probably, at least in my mind, but it's still what I shoot for.

So, yes, I'm nervous. In a good way.

I want listeners and viewers to feel proud that I'm their broadcaster. Just as I've wanted that from Greenwich, Brunswick, the FCIAC, Mahopac, and literally anywhere else.

So there will likely be a pep talk somewhere along the line. It will be a reminder that I'm here for a reason. It happens before the beginning of most seasons and larger games/events.

There could even be a pep talk from my son. It wouldn't surprise me.

I've been getting well-wishes all morning from people that I care about. My day started with a text that read, "Today's the day!"

Sean and I will head to the ballpark around 3:00. Sadly, if he wants to ride with Dad, then he has to hang out. I'll try to do "Doubleheader" from there. There will be lineups to write out and final booth adjustments to make.

I interviewed Gades' manager Dan Fiorito this morning and asked him if he'll take a moment to take it all in. Well, nobody asked me, but I'll tell you.

Yes, I will. Once I think things are heading in the right direction, I'll make sure to eat some dinner. I'll watch the fans find their seats. I'll stand behind the booth and watch people milling about below.

I'll do everything I can to relax.

It's been a long road. It's been my road and my story. There's a reason for it.

But tonight, I'll think of everyone who has supported me. I'll think of all of the broadcasters before me. I'll think of Vin. I'll think about my parents.

I'll remind myself I know what I'm doing. It's just baseball. It's just a broadcast.

I'll take a deep breath.

And I'll start to talk.

Listen to tonight's game and every home game on Z93 radio (93.3 FM). All radio broadcasts will begin with a brief pregame show (five minutes before first pitch). Online, you can watch the games on MiLB.tv (subscription required) and you can listen to the games on MiLB.com. Our own Gades-specific audio link is here.

Moments of peace among chaos

 

Greetings from the stadium.

The Dutch.

Dutchess Stadium.

We are 29 hours and 20 minutes away from first pitch as I type.

It was pretty quiet when I arrived, shortly after 11 a.m. There were people working but things were peaceful. I came straight to the booth. Thankfully, it was open. It's never fun to run around wondering if someone has a key.

I tried cleaning the windows. That didn't go so well. 

I cleaned the visiting radio booth too because I like it when I get that same treatment. But, sadly, that booth is also prime real estate for storage. So, for now, there's that.

Having called a few games from storage rooms, I get it.

There's still more I want to do. There are wires I want to cut and a table I want to move and yada yada yada. But it's come so far already. I've swept the booth -- my booth -- and the visiting booth. I wiped everything down. I labeled the mixer. I set and reset microphones.

I decided the Sennheiser headsets I found yesterday would do quite nicely. Plus I have to do minimal setup and breakdown every night.

I found President and G.M. Steve Gliner walking around. After wishing him a happy birthday, I asked him how he was. I knew the answer.

"Oh, you know," he said. "The day before Opening Day."

I did my podcast with Zach Neubauer. That one is a lot of fun because we're just two guys talking about the team.

People complain about the protocols in place. It's not our call. 

People grumble about the lighting of the podcast. Zach was able to fix that.

Tomorrow, I'll speak with Gades' manager Dan Fiorito for the first time. Zach had him on the phone and said he'd be on "Rob's Recap."

"That's the name of it," he said. "I just made that up. Rob is laughing because he wasn't consulted."

Left hand, meet right hand.

A staff member -- I've been trying to meet everyone but can't remember names -- is currently trying to clean up the entrance to the stadium with a blower. The goal is to repaint it before tomorrow night.

The batting eye in center field is also being painted.

I was able to have a few moments to myself. After talking to Steve Gliner, he got pulled in another direction which gave me a reason to take a walk. I soon found myself out near the clubhouse. The gate was open to the field, and I stood there, in the rightfield corner.

It might be the only time I step on the field all year.

The emotions -- the enormity -- began to hit me.

I visited my parents this morning. I was able to see the fresh engraving of my mother's information on their headstone.

Nancy Lee

1937-2020

I told them I really didn't know what to say, other than I wish they could be at the stadium tomorrow night or settled into the living room to watch it on MiLB.tv, assuming we could get it on their TV.

I hoped they were proud of me.

Then I drove to the stadium.

Where I was now walking diagonally from the right field corner. I passed second base, then third, then I stepped back into the stands to return to the booth.

Workers were on the field in the dugouts. They saw me but paid me no mind.

In the middle of the madness, here were my few minutes of zen.

Earlier in the day, I texted Susan and told her I was "grumpy and anxious."

I've had six days of listening to everyone else.

It's my turn.

It's our turn.

So...about yesterday

 

I think I know what I'm wearing on Tuesday

I wanted to elaborate on the post from yesterday.

I received many responses to what happened in Norwich. Some said I should complain to whatever governing body that I can reach out to.

If you didn't know, I called a doubleheader between Brunswick and St Thomas More at Dodd Stadium -- the home of the Norwich Sea Unicorns who, up until last year, played in the NY-Penn League. In other words, they played the Renegades.

When Wayne McGillicuddy or Brunswick and I asked to go in the press box, we were denied for reasons unknown. This was no small high school press box, to be clear. I know -- from experience -- that there are at least two private radio booths. Those went unused.

I'm bringing this up again because I wanted it clear that we do what we need to do. While I wanted to complain and express my displeasure, I bit my tongue and walked away with my tail between my legs.

I set up near where Wayne placed the camera, in front of the press box in question. The Sea Unicorns staff plugged our extension cord into the press box.

Knowing that it was a day with questionable weather, I wisely went and grabbed a brand new tarp out of my car. I also had a few jackets that I could use to cover things up.

Was it ideal? No. Not at all. But we do what we have to do. Pitching a fit or asking someone to build me my own press box or whatever is not the answer. 

Oh, I get those who were outraged. In truth, I appreciate that. If the reason for denying the request was COVID protocols, well, OK I guess.

But, honestly, none of it made sense. 

Another truth was that we were inside of an hour from first pitch so arguing would only waste time. 

So I felt the best thing to do was to follow the lead of Brunswick -- whom I'm there representing as an impartial broadcaster. Honestly, they had games to play and try to win. I needed to be the very last of the concerns.

Overall, it was funny, and I made appropriate fun of it while not trying to mock or criticize anyone. My only angst occurred when rain became an issue. Then it was still funny.

Soon, it wasn't as funny. At that point it was my computer and mixer and other equipment that I worried about. Nobody was going to reimburse me for that getting damaged.

In the end, it's just another story to tell.

In the end, I'm a better broadcaster for not letting it bother me, mostly laughing it off, and remaining appropriately dedicated to the task at hand. I'm not saying it's the best approach but I see too much entitlement. I'm better because stuff happens and I do what I can to just keep going.

We're important in what we do but we're not a priority. You can hope we're treated with respect but that's just not always the way

*****

Of course, it's Mother's Day, and I'm certainly thinking of my own mother, given this is the first year we're without her. Her name was recently added to the headstone with my dad. I'd like to get there before Tuesday night at 7 but it's OK if I don't.

To keep our minds off of it, Sean and I both spent a large chunk of the day at Dutchess Stadium.

I helped run Rick Zolzer's sports talk show on Z93 and also appeared as a guest, while Sean trained to become a camera operator.

I also found that there might be a desk I can use if I don't want to sit in the booth. While I was there, I also got to look at the broadcasting equipment that was just sitting around doing nothing. Why, yes, I'd be thrilled to take the two headsets and use them on the broadcasts, thanks so much.

I'll be back there tomorrow.

Then it's Tuesday.

Is this real? 

I guess we're going to find out.

From Norwich with love

 

From Section 11, Row P, Seat 12!

I wasn't sure I was going to call a doubleheader today until yesterday when Brunswick's Wayne McGillicuddy told me we were on.

It's basically a two-hour drive from Mahopac to Dodd Stadium in Norwich, CT but it's a nice trip on a Saturday morning. Plus it's a trip to a (now former) minor league stadium, so I figured it would be nice to sit in a booth and watch the Bruins and Chancellors of St. Thomas More.

Yeah. About that...

My "booth." Really.

I was there in plenty of time. It was roughly two hours before first pitch. I had the equipment and was armed with food and drinks.

The Bruins because, essentially, Connecticut traffic is the work of the devil. By the time Wayne and I convened to set up the camera to connect to Local Live, I had concocted a plan. My goal was that I'd sit in the booth and we'd set the camera up just outside of the booth. Simple, right?

Those in charge of Dodd Stadium -- from the Norwich Sea Unicorns -- did not concur.

"We can't let you in the booth," Wayne and I were told.

I know -- from experience -- that there are home and radio booths that are private rooms at Dodd Stadium. So even if anyone else was in the main press box, I would have been off in a completely separate room.

So what could it have been (other than some kind of COVID protocol) and does it really matter?

Plenty of room!

No. It doesn't.

The thing is that, despite everything, we do the job. We can gripe all we want, and I basically bit through my tongue to keep from saying anything to the Sea Unicorn people, but there is still a job to be done.

So I called 14 innings of fascinating and, at times, strange baseball. The Bruins and Cancellors played two good one-run games. Each team won one game and had a chance to steal the other.

Oh, and it rained during the second game. It's not like I have electronic equipment with me or anything like that. Yet, being the prepared should that I am, I brought a tarp with me.

There was no room for my pod!

In the meantime, I kept an eye on the Yankees and the Renegades as they both played. That kept me occupied as I made the trip home.

And now? Our next broadcast is...

is?

Tomorrow, when I'll be a guest of Rick Zolzer on his sports talk show on WKIP at noon.

Oh, you mean my next game broadcast?

It's Tuesday night at 6:55 p.m. when the Hudson Valley Renegades host the Aberdeen IronBirds at Dutchess Stadium.

The final tuneup is over.

It's almost go time.

The home broadcaster

 

The MiLB.tv schedule for Tuesday, May 11

There are 120 games in this season. Sixty at home and 60 on the road.

Many teams aren't sending their broadcasters to the visiting site  -- mine included.

Yet, having to write a game story every night means it's preferable to watch or listen to each game. However, this concept is easier said than done.

For three nights now, I've either listened to or watched the Jersey Shore broadcast on their website. As I learn the routine, I'm able to not pay as rapt attention as I might have thought was necessary. Initially, I planned on keeping score of each game for notes purposes. Yet I listened to part of Opening Night in my car, so scoring went right out the window.

I'm also learning the rhythm of the game writeup. As it gets distributed to a large media base (!) it's more of a press release that goes on our website (hvrenegades.com) versus a true game story. So three nights have produced three different lengths and at least one mistake. Far be it for me to cut myself any slack.

So here's what I (think I) know so far about the league in terms of broadcasting:

- Hudson Valley: home games only (with the lead broadcaster begging for a few road trips). A couple of road games might still happen. Game audio and video available via website, MiLB.TV, First Pitch app, and on the radio via Z93.

- Brooklyn: home games and expecting to do road games, per lead broadcaster Keith Raad. Dana Grey joins him in the booth. Games online via team website and MiLB.tv. So if Keith can travel to Dutchess County...

- Jersey Shore: home games only (so far) with Greg Giombarrese and Tony Graham. Games online via team website and MiLB.tv

- Wilmington: home games only, called by a select group of students from Rowan University. Audio online via team website.

- Aberdeen: home games only. No voice on the broadcasts. Games online via MiLB.tv.

- Greensboro: home games only but apparently no MiLB.tv. I've also gathered that's Andy Durham's voice on the audio broadcast, heard on the team website.

- Winston-Salem: home games only with Luke Hallett and Andrew Murphy. Games online via team website and MiLB.tv

- Hickory: I'm not sure if they're going to have a broadcast in any fashion, including MiLB.tv. They play their first home game next Tuesday.

- Asheville: home games only but, as with Greensboro, it appears there is no MiLB.tv stream. I think that was Doug Maurer's voice that I heard the other night when I listened to the audio on the team website.

- Greenville: home games only with Dan Scott. Games online via team website and MiLB.tv

- Bowling Green: The MiLB audio page says they're doing all home games and select road games. That checks out as I heard Shawn Murnin on the call last night. He's joined by Riley Edwards. Their games are also available on the team website and MiLB.tv.

- Rome: home games only, called by Kevin Karel. It doesn't appear that they have MiLB.tv but the audio is available on the team website.

OK, I get it. Broadcasts cost money. Since the dawn of time (or 1921) owners have been often ambivalent or flat-out against broadcasts. They think it hurts the gate versus serving as free advertising. New York baseball was mostly blacked out until 1939.

Still, the decision of those with no broadcasting at all (or no voices) is disappointing. It's a disservice to the visiting fans. So, for instance, when the Gades are at Aberdeen, you'll have to figure out what's going on since there will only be a picture. Furthermore, if you don't buy MiLB.tv, you'll be completely out of luck.

For what it's worth, that means I'll be pushing to go spend time in Aberdeen, MD. Anyone want to sponsor a road trip?

I feel for people who care about some of these other teams. Families of players around the world can't see or hear the games and I just think that's sad. Now, look, I'll still complain about the quality of those broadcasts (oh, will I ever) so there's the argument of if it is better than nothing.

But, as for cost, where there's a will there's a way. I'm best to leave the topic right there before I get drawn and quartered by the "OUR SERVICES SHOULD BE COMPENSATED" crowd.

For what it's worth, Hickory, Greenville, Bowling Green, and Rome aren't on the schedule against the Gades. For everyone else, they'll be relying on our broadcasts unless their broadcaster travels. I'm gathering Keith Raad will be visiting our humble visitors booth, which we specifically left open for that reason.

Or we'll put Sean and a camera in there. Or something else. Empty space in a stadium does not go unused.

We also had a meeting with Chuck Benfer and Chris Marino from iHeart (Z93) today. The pertinent info that came out of it is that the home opener broadcast will begin at 6:55 on Tuesday night so that we can catch some of the pregame activities. Otherwise, broadcasts will only have a five minute pregame show.

However, Zach Neubauer and I talked later on and determined that we'll produce a more extensive broadcast for the web and MiLB.tv.

It's expected that I'll do a pregame interview somehow but it won't be for the radio side as we just won't have time.

So that's the game plan for now.

Four days to go.

I'm off to Norwich tomorrow for Brunswick/St. Thomas More baseball and onto Dutchess Stadium on Sunday to be a guest on Rick Zolzer's sports talk show.

Monday is a teaching day at CSB.

Tuesday...nothing major.

Four days.