I'll Be Better

 

Good morning from my beloved Hudson Valley.

OK, specifically, Mahopac.

You know me. I'll say yes to doing play-by-play of almost anything. I've already said I'll do a game if needed in Orange County, NY next week.

If they needed me for more in New York -- especially going to Syracuse for the state championships, I'd be in.

But, when asked to do games at the very place I grew up, on the field I graduated from, I don't say no.

It's my pleasure to be here.

Sean and I love Greenwich but we both admit we miss Mahopac.

Though it will change, it's still "Home of the Indians"

This is all just so familiar and, despite its warts (some quite ugly), I still love and brag about it here. I smile when I see Lake Mahopac and my car is parked right outside of the middle school that I hated in hindsight and, yet, it helped make me who I am.

I drove out last night remembering how raw and naive and uncomfortable I was in high school. How the kid from Austin Road Elementary School couldn't be the same. I became an easy target for bullies.

And, well, Sean gets it.

I'd always hoped I'd be able to call games from here and while I've never called a Mahopac football game (home or away) I'm here for the sixth and seventh games I've broadcast from this field.

I did numbers four and five last night and, frankly, I wasn't good.

I stumbled. I made mistakes. I kept saying the name of the outlet I was broadcasting for wrong (NFHS Network). I eventually got a text and that embarrassed me.

I promise you I was prepared. I had stats, homework, and storylines, including a player who had just lost his father in a car accident last weekend.

The thing about a story like that is you can't "Taylor Swift" it. You can't keep going back to it. You report it, and I did -- once. While the team he was playing for (Haldane) won and moved onto the state semifinals, he got injured and didn't return.

The scriptwriters often aren't fair.

But, yeah, I thought I wasn't good. Not up to my standards. I told a few trusted souls afterward and got what I expected. 

They thought I wasn't being fair to myself. Too hard on myself. Too high of a standard.

And, yes, I do have high standards. Thus I want people to ask me to come back. 

So why did I, frankly, suck?

I think I was overtired. That's not an excuse. Like everything I do, I put my all into the Old Timers Awards Dinner. Now combine that with a head cold that, somehow, mostly disappeared. It's not unfair to say I was stressed. 

So, despite all my efforts, I sat here last night and was tired. I could feel it. The mistakes I made were that of exhaustion (thanks to a 5 a.m. wakeup).

Maybe to some, I sounded fine. But to others, I probably sounded like I didn't belong here. That bothers me but critics are going to critique.

I didn't harp on it after it was over. I thought the second broadcast was better than the first.

I said what I needed to say to my friends and then I slept it off, having to just resolve to get 'em on the next calls.

And so, here we are. Ready for O'Neill and Bronxville, who are warming up in front of me. Shenendehowa and Carmel play later.

I've been here almost two hours already, happy to soak up some time in the early Mahopac sun.

Happy to think about winning that Mahopac Sports Association baseball title in 1984 on the field behind me, and scoring the winning run after working out a walk in extra innings there in 1986.

Then came the time I scored four touchdowns for Polk High. Oh, wait, that was Al Bundy on Married with Children.

OK, I'm awake and ready. I'm also alone.

Join me (if you know where) and let's do this.