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| Rob and Spencer Pierce, Maimonides Park, Brooklyn, USA (Zach Neubauer photo) |
Why did I allow this to happen?
There was so much buildup.
I was nervous.
I wanted to bail.
No, really. I wanted out.
I had driven all the way to Brooklyn and I wanted to leave.
And yet?
I stayed on the Cyclone and had a pretty good time.
*****
I'm a constant worrier. Sadly, I think I've handed that same thing to my son. I worried that I put people out by dragging them all the way to Brooklyn for the Gades/Cyclones game in honor of the 100th anniversary of the first baseball broadcast.
I couldn't help but think that others considered it silly. Who cares about some Westinghouse engineer and his "one-off" broadcast in 1921 that would never amount to much?
To be sure, a few broadcasters found out that I was doing this and copied it from me. It's cool. No worries.
But, why would Zach Neubauer go? Why would Spencer Pierce drag his father to Brooklyn -- on his dad's birthday?
Why would Sean go? I mean, come on.
I worried we were driving the Brooklyn Cyclones crazy by being at Maimonides Park some six hours before first pitch. I'm still not sure we didn't, but we just tried to stay out of everyone's hair.
We did a Facebook live that was then converted into a podcast.
We walked the boardwalk, had Nathan's, spilled cheese dogs, and, yes, rode the Cyclone.
We also did the carousel beyond right-center field, where those working seemed less than enthusiastic to see one older guy and three younger men (one of them a teenager) strolling in for a ride. They were even less thrilled when we took out our phones with the hope of filming some content.
So that didn't happen.
The game was the game but the pregame was different. As the visiting team, the responsibilities were different. I just had to set up (and boy my setup is small with the trusty Zoom PodTrak P4), write out lineups and defensive charts, and start talking.
Oh, and we were able to go to the field where Kyle MacDonald came over and thanked us for coming out. That was above and beyond.
Then we did the game. I called all of the action. Spencer did most of the color with Zach chiming in a lot and an occasional thought from Sean.
But the huge surprise was not only that Zach and Spencer were going to run in the Nathan's Hot Dog Race (dressed in costumes as ketchup and relish dogs) but that Sean -- my son -- was going to do the play-by-play online*.
We had, essentially, three broadcasts running: the terrestrial broadcast on Z93 (and, again, huge thanks to everyone at iHeart for allowing that), our online stream on hvrenegades.com (those listeners heard Sean), and a private feed that I run in the background in case something goes wrong. It also gives me a recording of the broadcast.
Sean, for the record, was great. He stayed within himself. He described what he saw. If he never does it again, he'll always have this. Most of all, he did it with me sitting there, serving as his analyst. That took guts.
When it was over, Zach and Spencer both expressed concern that they had perhaps overrun the day with silliness. I can say with a full heart and complete honesty that I had no grand expectations and I felt that their commentary helped balance things out. I knew this broadcast would be different. My initial grandiose idea of having static and a historic broadcast that would evolve (a la something FOX did years ago) was a bit much.
This was more real. This was more 2021. This was more in line with a lot of what I believe in. I was still able to weave a lot of the history of the business while still calling the game and having fun with the guys. My only mistake -- if that's the right word -- was not telling Zach that I was loaded with old play-by-play calls. Somehow I thought playing those might be overdoing it.
It ultimately seemed that he was completely in favor of that and I should have trusted my instinct. Trust me, that's more about me than anyone else. Call it PTSD.
Instead, we threw a few calls in before the end of the night, capped off by a roughly 10-minute postgame show that was online only. But it also occurred to me that Maimonides Park -- who had not seen a visiting broadcaster in almost two years -- was ready for us to go home, so I said goodnight.
You can hear highlights from the broadcast here. As I don't know what the archive policy is, I haven't posted much of the audio from any of the broadcasts.
It was a special day and what I realized was that it was special to everyone -- Zach, Sean, Spencer, and me. Maybe even to Spencer's father, who spent his birthday watching his son run a race dressed as a hot dog with relish.
I held my emotions together, which has become something I've been good at for about a year now, but I can assure you yesterday meant a lot to me.
And to call this game from Brooklyn -- where Vin Scully's career started? Where Red Barber was "The Ol' Redhead?" Come on, man.
Zach kept calling the day "Rob's holiday." I get that but it wasn't about me. I'm not that narcissistic (though he didn't mean it that way). I assure you that yesterday doesn't happen without Zach and Steve Gliner and Joe Ausanio and Spencer and Sean and Chuck Benfer and Chris Marino and Jeff Semancik. Also assisting yesterday were Tyson Jeffers and Susan and Shawn Sailer -- each of whom was listening at one point or another and sending words of encouragement.
And thanks to you -- the readers and listeners -- who came along somehow.
We're into year number 101 of this business. Radio, of course, is "dying," remember? Except, it's not. Nor is baseball.
May the "voices" who have gone before us be proud of what we've done and may Mom and Dad have had a prime spot near a heavenly old Crosley Radio.
One with wifi.
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