On Calls and Marches

 

It felt like the scene from "The Godfather: Part III."

"Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in!"

Except I've never seen that movie (blech) and I was only being pulled into a parade.

With much trepidation -- and some pleading -- I marched in the parade down Greenwich Ave to kick off the days leading up to Saturday's Greenwich Town Party.

At first, all of my concerns were spot on, and Sean agreed with me. Oh, did I fail to mention I dragged Sean along? I figured I needed a wingman for this potential mess.

The thing with us is that we don't like ambiguity. Unknown? Last-minute? Grumble grumble. 

Not always the best for us.

Yet, sometimes pleasant surprises await.

We walked over to the staging area in the Amogerone Parking Lot, literally right next to the WGCH studios.

There were cones for each group to line up and WGCH was at cone number five. For a stretch, only the Adams boys occupied the cone in question.

The group would swell right before we stepped off with seven of us marching.

I stood in the center of the group, holding up a banner that had literally just come in from a particular office supply chain.

Fortunately, the mood among the WGCH party wasn't stressful but instead turned light, sarcastic, and enjoyable. 

While I was supposed to collect interviews from members of the audience once we reached the "Party in the Park" at the end of the parade route, folks weren't looking to chat. Instead, they were looking to be entertained by the headliners Preservation Hall Jazz Band who lead the parade.

"So, wait," I said to Sean. "No matter what, we get to say we marched in a parade with Preservation Hall Jazz Band?"

"That's how I'm seeing it," he said.

To paraphrase a non-jazz band, we took a sad song and made it better.

The band climbed onto a stage at Havemeyer Field and put on a free concert with jazz that was just outstanding. Sean and I both this alone made it all worth it.

Plus Gary Dell'Abate introduced the Preservation Hall Jazz Band at "Party at the Park" and said the quickest and slyest "Baba Booey" ever that actually made both of us laugh.

There were food trucks in the park along with entertainers on stilts and a few others decked out in costumes that added to the festivities. Sean and I tried to eat at the food trucks and, well, the lines were crazy. So we headed out, said hello to first selectman Fred Camillo and his dogs and walked toward Grigg Street Pizza.

Which was closed.

So we hoofed it back to WGCH to get my car.

Pizza and a quick grocery visit in Glenville awaited before we returned to the cat.

We're your tour guides for the radio broadcast of the Greenwich Town Party on Saturday though we're still waiting to find out exactly what that means. I guess stay tuned.

We're both happy to do what we can for WGCH.

But my feet hurt.

*****

I've spoken about awards and honors before. They're not something I strive for. I've received a few things over the years that mean I can put "award-winning" on my bio, but otherwise, meh.

STAA -- the Sportscasters Talent Agency of America -- hosts a "Calls of the Week" social media campaign every week. All kinds of (to be honest, mostly younger) broadcasters throw their calls into a Twitter post each Monday.

For the first time, that post included a call from me. 

I wanted to see what the response would be. I gave them the championship winner from Sunday's Prep Nationals game. I considered it an experiment.

Now, I'll add that I think it is not one of my best "big moment" calls. I had a small stumble in it that embarrasses me but, at the end of the day, it's about the athletes and the game, not me. I'm a conduit. I simply try to call it professionally without breaking any audio equipment because I yelled so loud.

Well, whatever the case, when you click on the post of winners, lo and behold, there's Mason Vance's game-winner. Kudos to all around.

I'd like to think it would my parents smile. 

I grinned when I saw it. Beyond that, I don't really know what to think. I'm certainly the old dude among the other calls. I'm still baffled by the criteria, as I thought a far-superior call by Mike Hirn wasn't chosen a few weeks back.

Quality should matter and, yet, it doesn't always.

So I suppose it's a nifty feather on my hat to make "Calls of the Week" but, proving my point, it was the magnitude of the moment.

Not the call itself.