Adios, January

 

Dear First Month of the Year,

On the plus side, I thank you for the fact that I'm still around. Oh, and I called a lot of games. 

I worked. That's good also.

Believe me, I can see the positives.

Otherwise, I'm fairly content to see you limp on out of here.

If we're being honest with each other, you've never been my favorite month anyway. People celebrate your arrival but I honestly don't care.

This year, especially, I want you gone.

I normally dread February a little more but you just seemed to want to rip guts out this year.

Death. Destruction. Heartbreak. I know, every month has that but January 2024 seemed to be on a mission to hurt everyone.

I'm watching too much sadness and fearing that those I care about will never be able to move forward as a result. So the only thing I can hope for is to have January be over with so perhaps it's a fresh start.

I can't stand to see people that sad and suffering. For what it's worth, I suffer by extension.

I realize you're a page on the calendar and it's not your fault, etc, but you'll always be associated with all of this.

The anniversaries -- one month, two months, a year, etc, will never stop.

So, in that regard, it's on you.

You're named for Janus, the Roman god of beginnings and transitions.

Well was your goal to transition to suck?!

I can't get on you too much for the weather unless it's for being annoying. It hasn't been that cold but we've just had a lot of piddly snow and rain storms.

This is the stuff for which people celebrate your arrival?

You'll have work to do to redeem yourself. It's amazing considering February is normally the longest 28-29 days of the year in my opinion but you've somehow set the bar even lower.

I truly wish I could find a moment to toast your departure tomorrow. If my brain is working (don't bet on it), I'll raise my coffee cup in triumph.

Fortunately, Seacrest won't be around.

I look forward to writing the rent check and, honestly, who does that?

But writing Feb 1 or 2/1 just seems a lot better this year.

Thanks for the positives. I tried to be fair.

Yet it's time for you to move along. Hit the road, Jan. Don't you come back no more.

May we not have this same talk next year.

February, you're up. Be better than this.

Otherwise, bring on March.

And I can't even believe I'm saying that.

Burrata Ravioli

 

Greenwich girls basketball warms up at Trumbull tonight.

The day started with The Cat.

Of course, it did.

He wanted to eat and I needed to get up early so it was a win-win, I suppose.

I worked a deposition today for the first time since I'd rather not recall the last one.

This was only supposed to be a few hours since I had a commitment but we all know those are famous last words.

I got them going and went about my day of monitoring them and catching up on a few other things, including preparing for the basketball I was calling tonight.

We started at 10 a.m. and I had been online since before 9. Standard operating procedure there.

We passed Noon. OK, no biggie. However, I set 4 p.m. as my end time.

Well, so much for a couple of hours. The deadline was approaching and they were still chugging along. It happened and everyone was nice on the case. Or at least professional. I was able to hand the remainder off and duck out but also had Sean on standby in case he needed to finish up for me.

It allowed me to work and, obviously, that's a good thing.

But I also hadn't eaten a meal. I needed something or else Greenwich/Trumbull basketball would have sounded bizarre. I would have been hungry, probably angry, and lightheaded.

A dreadful combination.

Thus, and I hate saying this, I stopped at McDonald's.

Oh, there was a time when I was young when that wouldn't have been unusual. Now? I don't do it a lot. In fact, not much at all anymore.

Once in a while, I'll get in the mood for fries or I'll need a quick breakfast. But a burger? No. It's rare these days.

And I ate as I sat in traffic heading up 95 to Trumbull High School.

There was no need to panic and, to that end, I didn't panic. I was on-site in plenty of time for the game, walking in while the JV played.

That being said, I was only about an hour early. That's not my favorite way to roll. I prefer being on-site no less than 90 minutes before but it happens.

But with the aforementioned JV game going on, Jeff Alterman and I couldn't set up anyway. So I chatted with Trumbull coach Steve Tobitsch, athletic director Mike King, and others.

Trumbull has adopted me in small pieces from time to time. You might know that. I've created a strong bond with them, Fairfield, and Greenwich of course.

And Brunswick. I'll be back with them tomorrow.

That's me. Always looking for a home.

Jeff and I called the Trumbull/Greenwich girls basketball game (Trumbull won 45-35) and we packed up. We'll work together again on hockey soon.

He loves bringing in people that I've never met to work with me and, as I've said, that's not something I love, but I realized there's a bit of a method to his madness.

He wants them to work with someone who has been in this business since Marconi was testing wireless signals.

OK, I'm not that old, but still.

I'm too dumb to realize that it's a compliment as well as a sign of respect and he was basically telling me that tonight.

Today was one of those days where I was reminded that I have stories to tell and lessons to teach.

Another edition of STAA's "Calls of the Week" hit "the socials" today and I listened like I do every week. Almost every week, it's roughly 10 play-by-play examples that feature (generally) college-age broadcasters screaming over some "unbelievable" play.

But this week featured a couple of calls that really impressed me, such as Alaina Morris, who I wrote about a few days ago (and basically no one read the post). A few highlights later it was back to ear-splitting screaming.

Look, it's hard to gauge a broadcaster based on just that. It takes a larger sample of their work though I still want to know they won't have a coronary on higher leverage plays.

Or talk over each other, which would get a talking to from me if I were their advisor.

That led to a tweet from that wise sage of Ohio, Mike Hirn, who voiced his frustration as well as an offer to give honest and free critiques. He tagged me and I'm in complete agreement.

And so I'm reviewing a few pieces of work tonight. There are -- yes, really -- some promising broadcasters out there, as well as a few veterans who just need a little cleaning up.

I love doing it. I love supporting other broadcasters however I can, whether it's offering advice on a battery pack to use on a MacBook at a game or listening to a college radio show.

But attitude matters. Don't be a know-it-all. Want to learn. Want to improve. 

That's where you get in trouble with me.

Also, want to pay it forward.

We have a Gus Johnson. Don't be a Gus Johnson.

Be you. Whomever you are.

And thus I drove home from Trumbull High School, hungry and excited to listen to some broadcasts to give free critiques.

In the fridge was a package of burrata ravioli, given to me by a friend.

Pot, water, sauce, mangia!

And on goes the sounds of broadcasters needing a tune-up.

You wondered how the ravioli worked into this post, didn't you?

Now you know.

Keep in mind I didn't really know anything about burrata until I was in London in 2022 and realized I'm a damn fool.

Knowing me, I was eating it without even knowing.

Thank you, Erik Boender.

Check Your Ego at the Door

 

While this is about music, it's not about The Beatles (yes, "Meet the Beatles" will be back next Sunday at 9 a.m. on WGCH and Robcasting).

But it's more about the intersection of music and culture and history.

I just watched the new documentary, The Greatest Night in Pop, on Netflix.

It returns to a long night of recording "We Are the World" on January 28-29, 1985.

Honestly, with the documentary having only come out today, I want to give nothing away.

It's not unfair to say it was a momentous night, following the American Music Awards that evening. Some of the stories of the evening have been told before, as I recall a Life magazine story covering much of what went on.

Of course, this goes deeper.

For the main people in assembling the project, it was a daunting task of picking who would be there and organizing the whole thing.

And damned if my band -- again, not The Beatles -- was there.

Huey Lewis and the News. All six of them were there. The entire band. Huey, Johnny, Chris, Sean, Bill, and Mario. All of them.

They all sang on it and Huey got a solo.

In case you're wondering, that sold me the song. 

Huey Lewis, Cyndi Lauper, Kim Carnes

But it was a who's who of pop at the time, with exceptions of course, as well as icons who might not have been truly relevant at that time. 

Plus a few who sort of didn't make sense to be there in the first place.

Plus the one who just...left.

And the one who never appeared.

But the truth was while their egos weren't going to disappear, everyone on hand needed to stay under control because they had one night to get it right. That's why Quincy Jones posted a sign that read "Please check your egos at the door."

The charity single as well as concerts weren't a new concept in 1985. George Harrison (I think he played in some band) organized The Concert for Bangladesh in Aug 1971 and the accompanying single and, among many others, Bob Geldolf helped create "Do They Know It's Christmas" in Nov 1984.

It was that song that inspired "We Are the World" as both songs were intended to raise funds for famine in Ethiopia.

Of course, in July 1985, Live Aid rocked the world in London and Philadelphia before Farm Aid began and others came along.

At that time, in fact, pop and rock for charity was a bit of a thing. Eventually, it became a bit much.

But for me, this documentary was a welcomed time machine back to being a 16-year-old boy. One detail I'll mention was a shot late in the show of Huey Lewis and Billy Joel hugging. It's very brief but seeing two of my musical heroes in this moment made me feel joy. When you think about it, it was quite rare to have such a list of people in the same place like this. Sure, there are awards shows but this was different.

The documentary is detailed but, honestly, there aren't many salacious details. I'd say, if anything, it focuses mostly on the positive.

And it definitely makes one person out to be a complete hero but I'll leave that to you to watch and figure out.

Even criticism from me is minimal. Normally, I'd be inclined to drop anvils on the artists who weren't exactly favorites of mine -- then and/or now -- but the joy I felt in flashing back minimized those feelings for me.

I don't even think I rolled my eyes. I made the conscious decision to watch this without judgment and just enjoy it.

Was it flawed? Sure. I never thought the song was particularly great despite the awards it won. I thought "Do They Know It's Christmas" was vastly better.

I also thought the cross-section of artists was interesting and certainly not very deep. That being said it was a pretty representative collection of artists for the time. If you were alive in 1985 I'm fairly certain you knew who everyone was in that room that night into the next morning.

I was a sophomore at Mahopac High School that night and almost definitely watched the American Music Awards since Huey and the band were there. I had a poster from a picture taken that night of Huey with Madonna. I was never a Madonna fan, for the record.

This also would have been through my first season as a member of the hard-rocking Mahopac High School bowling team. 

Music was my constant in the world, as I donned headphones to listen to my Walkman on the bus rides and wherever else I was allowed.

Thus, the idea of "We Are the World" was fairly epic.

And thus, so is this documentary.

It seems trite in hindsight. Almost phony. There were eventual criticisms of the charity concept, especially with concerns that the money wasn't going where it belonged.

But the music -- especially Live Aid -- has stood up.

Hard to believe that we're approaching 40 years since that all happened.

If you have any interest in the music of the era, give The Greatest Night in Pop a view.

It was a night when the heart of rock...um...pop...was still beating.

Miles of Games and Smiles

 

Ethan Long shoots the ball (Brunswick School photo)
Note: I'm not sure which photographer took it

In the above picture, there's a figure on the far right in the background. Upon zooming in, you can see he's wearing a headset and glasses with a vest and a black sweater.

Yes, that's me.

And it's exactly where I belong.

I appreciate any picture that shows me at work. I'm thrilled by it. It's me in my element. It shows the grind of being omnipresent and telling the story.

But I'm only a conduit to the stars. I'm doing the talking and the players and coaches are doing what matters. They can do what they do without me.

This was taken yesterday during Brunswick's victory over The Masters School. The Bruins opened a big lead and held on. I'll be back with them next week for hockey and probably more basketball. But the days are counting down in the regular season. In fact, I got a look at the Brunswick lacrosse schedule and I'm comfortable in believing I'll be on quite a few of those broadcasts. 

I'm patiently (OK, impatiently) awaiting a Brunswick baseball schedule so I can start lining everything up. I'm sort of fond of calling baseball.

But I've also reached a great point of comfort with lacrosse, given I was utterly clueless when I called my first game roughly 20 years ago. But it allowed me to know that with even a basic knowledge I can make it work.

I love winter sports. I love spring weather.

And I love the rhythm of a baseball broadcast.

Soon.

After Brunswick, I went to Poughkeepsie for the second Hudson Valley Vipers regular season game in team history. I had the same setup as last time in the stands but I arrived too early to set up.

A Marist College hockey game was going on when I walked in. I sat down near their student broadcasters and even listened to their broadcast on YouTube.

I studied and made adjustments to my Vipers roster as I waited. There were quite a few, in fact. 

I got to watch the rink go through the quick change from college hockey to the Vipers and chatted with the Marist broadcasters for a few minutes. The advice, as always, is the same:

- Practice your craft.

- Grind. Take internships if you can. Don't say no to opportunities.

- Build your network of contacts.

By the way, neither asked to stay in touch. I'm not offended but given I just said "Build your network of contacts," well, there you go.

They took off and I set up. The Vipers played the Norfolk Mallards, who shared the broadcast via their social media accounts. That small thing produced a nice audience and a few kind comments. 

There are still kinks to work out there and that includes for me. For the next game, I don't have another job that day and that will help reduce a little stress.

I called this game without the moral support of the first game when I had family nearby. But I had extended family, as a group of my Renegdeas colleagues were in the house. A member of the Gades staff plays for the Vipers so that added to the fun of the evening.

Alas, the Vipers lost 6-2. I took my time to pack up and was actually the only person in the stands when I left.

I walked up to the pitch-black parking garage (nothing scary about that) and got out of Poughkeepsie. It was a long but uneventful ride back to Greenwich and I didn't get to bed until 1:30 this morning.

I fed the cat before I went to bed, thinking I'd be able to sleep through his usual morning nonsense. Nobody told him that schedule. He still tried to wake me up early.

Of course, I had to get up and go to WGCH for the second edition of "Meet the Beatles."

Today I began telling the history of the group, stretching from the birth of producer George Martin through John meeting Paul followed by George and introducing the audience to Stu Sutcliffe and Pete Best as well as Andy White, Mal Evans, Brian Epstein, and others in the Beatles' orbit.

I was also able to play a few songs that inspired the Fabs. I laughed about it on the air but I'll stand by what I said: Tell me another American radio show or station playing "Rock Island Line," the skiffle version of a folk song written in 1929.

The version released by Lonnie Donegan in 1955 influenced The Quarrymen, the pre-Beatles band led by John Lennon. The Quarrymen were part of the skiffle revival in the United Kingdom in the 1950s.

I also played clips of "Twenty Flight Rock" and "Raunchy," the songs that Paul McCartney and George Harrison, respectively, played for John after meeting him.

But I backed out of both songs because I feared I was losing the audience. I know I should trust my gut on these things but I'm trying to create a show that is part history, a lot of music, and all fun and good.

I know I was energized by the end of the show to do it again next week.

That's a good feeling.

*****

Of course, I'll watch it but it will be the Insufferable Super Bowl.

New Discoveries

 

Screenshot of Alaina Morris from X

You know I've never been the type to just pat on the head.

Especially when it comes to play-by-play.

Students get honest assessments that attempt to be hard, fair, and also encouraging. But so many simply want to hear they're great.

So I was on the interwebs in the dark hole known as X (and I still say Twitter) this morning when I encountered a post from Kris Freeman who does PA announcing, play-by-play, and is an adjunct professor of media and broadcasting.

Sounds like my kind of person.

Kris shared a reel from a young broadcaster named Alaina Morris. Alaina is a student at Lipscomb who has served, per her bio, as an analyst for soccer and a women's basketball beat writer covering Vanderbilt. 

But she also called some play-by-play recently for women's basketball as Lipscomb hosted Florida Gulf Coast.

Final score: FGCU 75, Lipscomb 54. 

Nervously, according to Kris Freeman, Alaina shared her reel on Twitter.

And. She. Was. Awesome.

She is composed, measured, clear, and precise, with a wonderful voice and a masterful attention to detail. There's excitement in her voice but she uses it properly as a tool to demonstrate when it's time to get to the next level.

The video doesn't make it clear if she has an analyst but it sounds like she is alone which I also find impressive.

Additionally, she is doing a radio call which I can't stress enough how important it is to learn and, in my opinion, start with. The play-by-play announcer is so important to radio and teaches the broadcaster the skills to be detailed before heading to video.

I realize these are just 58 seconds of her work but I'm impressed and intrigued. There is no sense of entitlement or attitude in her call. 

She's just a pro already. It's obvious. From what I hear she has wonderful talent to be a multimedia star and her future is wide open.

Again, it's only 58 seconds (the link to the reel is here), but I immediately followed her to keep in touch and watch how her career develops.

These are the stories that, as a teacher, mentor, and honest critic, I love to discover. I'll help guide in any way for a person like this.

Sometimes, hard love (and a little karma) is what is needed.

So far, I sense none of that is needed here.

Keep it going, Alaina.

Now, I have two games of my own to go call!

The Voice is My Calling Card

 

From my first trip to Iona Prep in December

I've talked about the conundrum of being our own hype people before.

So I tell you this brief story understanding I risk sounding like a narcissist when, in reality, I remain dazzled that people would ever notice such things.

I got an offer to call Iona Prep basketball once again. The game was tonight against an outstanding team from Christ the King in Queens.

The Iona Prep broadcast setup is simple and nice. They put a small desk in the stands and, as it's a small gym, the stands are where the broadcaster has to sit. But it's high enough to sit and see the whole gym.

I bring my own equipment, find the input to send my audio to LocalLive's camera, and voilà! Sitting in the stands doesn't do much for my back but so be it. This isn't my first rodeo and the setup provided by the school is a nice touch.

So, basically, I'm willing to go back anytime they ask.

I finished up "Doubleheader" at home and jumped in the car for the drive down the Hutchinson River Parkway. If -- BIG IF -- traffic is moving, it's a decent drive to New Rochelle and the school is right next to the parkway.

I parked and walked in.

Two gentlemen sat at a desk selling tickets to the game. Of course, I get in because of what I do, but I still have to get their approval.

Normally, it's easy. I just say I'm the broadcaster or something along those lines and I get a smile and a nod to go on my way.

That all went as usual tonight, except there was more.

The two guys welcomed me before one commented.

"That's the voice I've been hearing," he said.

It was a reference to my previous two appearances at Iona Prep. Apparently, I'm doing something right. He acknowledged liking my work and wished me well.

Normally, I just try to disappear into the background but I was grateful for this.

These little glimpses of kindness are good reminders to keep grinding. I didn't know I would become a broadcaster for Iona Prep in any way when this season began. I did a few Archbishop Stepinac football games back in the fall and also had a blast doing those.

From there, if my name isn't remembered, I appreciate if my voice -- or, more notably, my ability to broadcast a game -- is.

As I've said, you never know where these roads will lead you.

Unfortunately, Iona Prep never found the lead tonight. They were down double figures and got within one but couldn't get the big shot to take over. The Gaels lost to the Royals.

Packing up, another gentleman walked over to my little broadcast desk behind the public address announcer and the scorer's table.

He just wanted to tell me that he had the game on his phone and he was listening from the bleachers on the other side of the gym. He also complimented my work, finishing by saying, "You do a great job."

Sometimes, I feel forgotten and disappointed when I don't get certain opportunities. I also know I get looked down on for not having what people consider to be "bigger" gigs. Personally, I'm just happy to keep working, wherever it is. I chose the path I'm on.

This has become a nice addition to my collection of broadcast sites.

I'm not "Voice of the Gaels" but that's OK. I have a couple of teams who like to call me their "voice" even if I resist calling myself that.

Three games do not a "voice" make and one shouldn't just walk in and announce they are that very thing.

No. They should not.

But these three games have been fun, despite the loss tonight.

Iona Prep and their fans seem to like what I'm doing. As I continue to sometimes wonder if I have a home, I'll take every kind word I can get.

Speaking of which, I'm back to Brunswick tomorrow with a long day ahead. I have basketball first there before driving to Poughkeepsie to call the Hudson Valley Vipers/Norfolk Mallards hockey game.

It's been a good stretch and my voice is surviving so we move to tomorrow.

Three

 

Three games.

Three states.

And I'm all about it.

It's just before faceoff of the Power Prep Hockey League All-Star Games at Martire Family Arena in Fairfield.

Wow. This place is incredible.

But, seven minutes before the expected game time, there's a practice still going on.

Ah, ice time and such.

So it goes. 

This will be the second game of the day and I just wanted to throw a few words on here in case I don't have time later.

So, while I'm up on the suite/press level, well, they've locked the door to this area. That means if I walk out I can't get back in. I found that out an hour back and had to have someone open the door for me. 

Therefore, I'm in here and dinner will have to wait I guess.

Bridgewater Sports Arena

The first game broadcast went without a hiccup as I traveled to Bridgewater, NJ for Rockets Hockey Club and the Jersey Hitmen.

The Rockets cruised to a 7-1 victory. The setup was incredibly easy and -- don't tell anyone -- I used my own equipment. It was my headset and mixer that drove the broadcast.

Trust me, not a soul noticed. 

I packed up and was out of the rink by 2 p.m. to start driving to Fairfield, CT. Shockingly -- no, really, it was an easy drive. Traffic got heavy and slowed up but if you know anything about Merritt Parkway then you know how it gets out there.

I cruised here and pulled in just around 4 p.m.

Now, I wait.

The Zamboni is about to hit the ice and practice has ended.

The broadcast will begin soon.

*****

It's 10:15 p.m. and I'm finally home.

The all-star games were weird in that I didn't have to bring any equipment in other than my computer and an audio interface that allows me to bring my sound into the MacBook for Robcasting.

Otherwise, the games were played quickly without the Zamboni coming out between periods. Both games were highly competitive and fun to watch.

Elite Hockey Academy coach Peter Alden -- the man who invited me to call these games -- did me a favor when he discovered that I was trapped on press level without food and ordered me a sandwich for dinner.

I ate it after the games were over. Shame on me for rushing to the arena and not grabbing food. 

Oh, yeah, after the games were over. Nothing like discovering you're so locked in that the arena pulled a gate closed!

Now, keep in mind that four people were on that level at one point: me, the cameraman, a PA announcer, and a graphics/music person.

Somehow someone never checked that there were still a few people up there because the PA and graphics guys got out.

With the help of a person who didn't have a key to said gate, I was able to access a side door at the other end of the suite level.

I strolled out into the night and had to maneuver down a hill of wet grass to reach my car. Fortunately, I had boots on with a good tread.

Another tale has been told.

And, oh, I have another basketball game tomorrow.

Then two more on Saturday.

Then "Meet the Beatles" on Sunday.

And I have to do a quick chat at 7:50 tomorrow morning on WGCH.

I'm nuts.

And, again, I wouldn't have it any other way.

Hockey Hoopla

Tomorrow night at 6 p.m. and 7:45 p.m.

 

I'll just get to the point: tomorrow will be challenging and (I think) fun.

I'm calling three games in two states and traveling through three!

I committed to doing a hockey game in Bridgewater, NJ several weeks ago. It's the Rockets Hockey Club against the (love this name) Jersey Hitmen.

Sing along to The Sopranos theme song ("Woke Up This Morning" by Alabama 3)!

"Woke up this morning. You got yourself a gun. Got yourself a gun. Got yourself a gun." 

There will be some Wawa (breakfast? lunch? both?!?) and good hockey at 11:30 a.m.

Of course, it will air on FloHockey but, fear not, trusty Robcasting will be along for the audio.

But remember when I said I was paid a compliment on Monday by being asked to call more games? Well tomorrow's my lucky day!

I will finish in Bridgewater and start driving.

If you're not thinking about The Sopranos when you see this,
aren't you doing it wrong?

Hopefully, it will be a peaceful drive (ha! I kid!) as I return from New Jersey, into New York and across the (Tappan Zee) bridge and make my way into Connecticut.

I have until 6 p.m. before the faceoff of my next game. But, yes as you know, I'll want to be there much earlier.

I've been asked to call not one but two all-star games in the Power Prep Hockey League at Martire Family Arena at Sacred Heart University in Bridgeport.

I'm not too worried -- yet -- about the drive. In the best-laid plans department, I should -- key word -- be able to get from Bridgewater to Fairfield in time. In fact, as luck would have it, I'm told audio equipment is already set up and they just need me.

That takes a chunk off my mind so I can hopefully get there and do any remaining prep before they drop the puck on the 16U game at 6 p.m. A second game -- 18U -- is set for 7:45.

If you're not aware, I once did five -- yes, five -- hockey games at a world championship tournament in New Jersey back in 2019. Yes, it will test my energy, but I'm hopeful that my familiarity with the rhythm of a day like this will serve me well.

Oh, and coffee. Because of course.

Now, a word about broadcast partners. I think I've said before that I really don't mind working alone when calling a game. What I'm resistant to is someone working with me whom I've never met. It's happened where they literally walk over a few minutes before we go live and there's no chance to gauge any chemistry.

Would a partner be great for anything tomorrow? Sure, as it would save my voice a bit as well as my brain, which will be reaching for topics (not that I struggle with it). But the chemistry is so important in a booth as it's a partnership. Chris Erway and I work well because we get each other. We know the rhythm. I could bring him in to do hockey and we'd still sound in sync because know how it works.

I'm blessed in that every time someone is plopped next to me I'm able to make it work. But never think it's easy, friends. There are variables, and it's worse when you're carrying the whole thing.

Two of the best examples were the football games I did for Neversink Media in Orange County. Kevin Halpenny had me work with Norris Gipson for a game in Middletown and with Tom Faggione at Arlington High School. I'd never met -- or even talked to -- either of them before game day. Both were outstanding analysts and, in the case of Tom, we've become at least friends online.

The chemistry of a booth matters. That's why I reach for "my guys," if you will when I have the chance.

Or I just work alone (like today at Brunswick for basketball).

I think about the analysts -- the partners and friends -- I've been blessed to work with. It's a tremendous list from John Spang, Mark Smallwood, and Sean Kilkelly through Mark Rosen, Chris Kaelin, Chris Erway, and a lot of others. I've also been fortunate to bring friends in that I had a hunch about like Shawn Sailer and AJ Szymanowski, as well as Jake Zimmer and Dan Gardella.

Plus Harold, Mick, and other friends who have helped out on a few broadcasts.

And the pros like Sean Ford who allowed me into their booth.

And I'm forgetting countless other names.

This is a topic I've brought up many times but it's worth repeating. A booth should sound like you've been invited in to listen to a couple of friends talk call the game (and likely talk about some other topics).

And I suppose I'm blabbing but this exercise keeps me from overthinking tomorrow.

The equipment is packed up and ready to go. I've created rosters and whatever notes I can find.

I'll hit the road early for the first stop in New Jersey. 

After that, it is set up, breakdown, and back in the car. 

Of course, I need to call the game between setting up and breaking down. I also need to take care of my voice and throat.

Oh, and make sure to eat.

And relax.

And hopefully find a few minutes to write again tomorrow night.

It's chaos.

And I love it.

Follow along on social media and Robcasting tomorrow.

Hall Call and Road Unis

 

(Photo: National Baseball Hall of Fame and Museum)

A few baseball things happened today.

The more important thing is the announcement of the three new members of the National Baseball Hall of Fame.

Adrián Beltré, Joe Mauer, and Todd Helton will join Jim Leyland in Cooperstown in July. Leyland was elected via the Contemporary Baseball Era Committee while the others were selected by the BBWAA.

The moaning, debates, and discussion about this keep the Hall of Fame relevant but we also know that the process is flawed.

Look, the fact of the matter is that regardless of who votes on the members there will always be human errors. We can say that the process is unbiased but the reality is emotion does play into it. Frankly, some writers hold grudges and whatever other logic they come up with.

To that end, had David Ortiz not been so likable he wouldn't have received a pass to Cooperstown considering the suspicion of steroid usage. That again brings up the point that we know that there are several "suspected" steroid users in Cooperstown.

Gary Sheffield didn't get that same courtesy even though he could flat-out mash the ball.

I hate that there's the "character clause" that allows voters a "get out of the jail free card" when it comes to their votes. It also allows for the condemnation of Barry Bonds, Roger Clemens, Rafael Palmeiro, and other suspected steroid users.

I'll stay away from discussing Pete Rose and Shoeless Joe Jackson, except to say Joe Jackson has been dead for 72 years. It's time.

My point is the players can't be judged by their on-field play alone. I'd rather what they did on the field be the important thing without the other factors. We already know there are myriad guys who were hardly "Boy Scouts" in the Hall and I know two wrongs don't make a right but let's stop being holier than thou.

As I've often said, my Hall of Fame would be small. I want it to be the elites. I want the true immortals.

Ruth, Gehrig, Mantle, DiMaggio, Mays, Aaron, Williams, Cobb, Johnson (Walter and Randy, plus Ban and Judy), Koufax, Seaver (see! I included a Met), Robinson, and so on. 

To me, it's always been an eye test combined with statistics. But I think analytics combined with those pesky personal preferences have become the go-to voting method for the baseball writers.

I still think there's a way to tell the story and still acknowledge the players, warts and all.

If you were, for instance, to induct he-who-wore-number-14-for-the-Cincinnati-Reds, put it on the plaque that he (Pete Rose) was banned from baseball for gambling in 1989. Don't let him deliver a speech. I think baseball is actually waiting for Pete to, bluntly, pass before ever allowing that.

I know, it's a basic concept and likely flawed but I think there are ways to do this right.

As for who didn't get in tonight, well, Billy Wagner will likely make it next year and is possibly hurt in that he pitched in the same era as a certain Mr. Rivera. Thus everyone is number two after Mo. But Trevor Hoffman is already in the Hall so what's the problem?

Andruw Jones was the definitive defensive center fielder of his time and had over 400 home runs. Put some respect on his name.

Oh, and with Joe Mauer getting in, can we take another look at Jorge Posada? He begins looking better all the time.

For me, there are other sticky names, such as Thurman Munson and Donald Arthur Baseball Mattingly. Mattingly, especially, is being seen in a different light but did his career feature too short of a dominant stretch?

And then there's the painful "will if he's in then my guy should be in" stuff. We've all done it. I know I'm guilty. In most cases, it's irrelevant. 

If Mattingly makes the call, there will be howling (aka whining) from another fan base about a St. Louis Cardinals first baseman who also played somewhere else. Well, he played in Cleveland but he was also, of course, a Met.

And Jerry Seinfeld's one-time friend on TV.

I loved watching the players receive that iconic phone call tonight, telling them they are legends officially. The joy as they hugged their loved ones was palpable.

I'm not even a Hall of Famer in my own son's eyes (I'm not cool) so I watch it all with wonder.

And I love the discussion. Sort of.

Congratulations to a worthy class of inductees.

Welcome to Cooperstown.

*****

Oh, that other piece of baseball news really isn't that important. It's just the Yankees are supposedly making a change to their road uniform.

This, if you don't know, is very rare.

The letters and numbers on the road jersey have had a white outline since 1973. Apparently, that is going away.

I know, I know. Change is difficult. I heard the gripes and I get it. I'm very willing to take the wait-and-see approach. However, if it looks like this then I will likely be in favor.

Regardless, I'll never be happy until they remove the Nike swoosh from the front and that's not happening anytime soon.

It's all about money.

But it was a good day for baseball. It was nice to have some hot stove chatter. 

Pitchers and catchers are only a few weeks away.

A Compliment

 

Kind words go a long way.

To some, they're a way of life, and they reprint them with the regularity of eating meals.

I fear living like that because it just becomes too much about me.

As I've said many times, that's the problem with having to promote my own work. I get it. We have to toot our own horns a little bit. But there's still a limit, right?

I like letting my work speak for itself.

I hope people see the grinding and respect it. Occasionally, I hope a kind word and an opportunity come along.

I receive kindness at Brunswick -- especially with hockey -- that is off the charts. I don't really know why that is. My only guess is 1) hockey people are exceptionally great but also 2) I'm always among the hockey families when I do a game.

The compliments are humbling. There are families who believe I enhance the game. The love isn't universal, for the record. I have detractors also.

So it was tonight that I was standing in the lobby of the Sampson Athletic Center, drinking my cup of coffee and preparing for the hockey game between Brunswick and Elite Hockey Academy when Elite's coach walked over to me.

He asked if I was announcing and if I needed a roster. I had one but I won't say no since you never know if it's different. 

(Narrator: it was slightly different.)

I was shocked that he even recognized me.

Then he asked if I was available to be at Sacred Heart University's Martire Family Arena on Thursday night for two all-star games.

I looked at my calendar and, while I do have a hockey game in New Jersey that morning, I can get back in time for the games.

We exchanged contact info and I wished him well, along with thanking him for the offer. I went on to broadcast Brunswick's 5-4 win in overtime.

Oh, it's still not 100% sure if he needs me for play-by-play or PA announcing but I was overwhelmed that he thought of me for this.

Posting the same compliments over and over again really serves no purpose in my opinion.

It's the grinding. It's the hard work being put in and people noticing that. Hopefully, the quality also is of note.

To an extent, it's the social media posts to promote each broadcast on my personal pages. That's how Robcasting has become a little bit of a "thing." 

I just can't toot my own horn that much, despite the kind words in my memories at the top of this page. Humility remains so important.

And with each time I get knocked down, I try to get up, dust myself off, and keep moving.

And with the grind, other opportunities open up. I might have something up for summer baseball already, though I also keep hoping my friends in Trumbull reach out and fill the calendar up.

And I learn. I never stop.

So the week is tight with games now, including more with the Hudson Valley Vipers. We're trying to build those broadcasts also so I'll be back there on Saturday.

The grind continues.

Things We Said Today

9:02 am. Four minutes to air

I was up early.

Anxious, I figured.

I wasn't exactly singing "Good Morning Good Morning" at that point.

No, I didn't sing "Good Day Sunshine" either.

But I went through the motions. Shower, breakfast, and pulled the equipment together.

I felt ready. Really, I did.

And yet...

I've decided to work off my computer for the music I'll present on "Meet the Beatles." We don't have a turntable and while we do have a CD player, I'm not really high on lugging CD's to and from the station every week.

That's fine and we have the ability at WGCH for external sources but ... wait for it ... only for one external source.

So regardless of which source -- iPhone, iPad, Macbook, or even a flash drive, I can only plug in one, or I have to come up with a solution to split the signal.

Sure, I can plug in my computer. Heck, that was created for me, because I liked playing sound files of sports sounds off my MacBook.

But how could I work in a second? There wasn't enough time to load all of the music on the station's hard drive.

So I had one of my ideas.

Ah, the idea. It can be great. It can be a game changer. It can also cause an absolute train wreck. 

In this case, keep in mind that time was a factor.

In fact, I considered all of that as I conjured the concept for today's debut show. Initially, I was going to dive right in, covering the history of The Beatles. But I was encouraged to make the first show a bit more personal. 

It was the right call. But that also made the content a bit more free-form.

Before that, I had to work out how to present that content.

The idea was to use a little Behringer mixer that I bought a few years ago. That, I thought, might handle the two computers I was bringing to be able to crossfade between songs if I wanted.

I plugged everything when I arrived at the hyper-warm WGCH studios, which was drastically different than the 16 degrees outside.

It didn't work. I didn't like the volume or lack thereof. It wasn't going to sound right on the air.

Drat.

OK, I thought, I'd still be fine. I'd use the one MacBook.

But, hold on. I had my Zoom PodTrak P4 with me. Maybe?

I tried. 

Again, the sound was off. Even though it's a music show on an AM radio station, there are still people listening on the internet and, for what it's worth, I'm listening in the studio. I'd like everything to sound right.

Even my MacBook (the one I'm typing on now) wasn't giving me stereo sound.

The heat in the studio was helping to build sweat on my brow.

I took a deep breath. Thankfully, the building was quiet and so was my phone.

I fixed the MacBook sound issue in settings and decided there would be no crossfading this week.

I'd have to play one song at a time interspersed with my jibber jabber.

I started Robcasting just around 9 a.m. and waited the interminable six minutes for the national news to end, rolling my eyes at the slanted presentation that we sadly run. Can anyone report without an agenda?

Finally, a Frank Sinatra show promo ended and the theme music began.

It was show time.

As I often get, I was nervous with what I call "good nerves."

I stammered a bit over the next 54 minutes as I found whatever groove I could get.

I plucked songs on the fly, after deciding that "Eleanor Rigby" would be the first offering. Full credit to Susan for the suggestions. Her idea was that it should be personal so the audience could learn why I was doing this show. Eleanor Rigby strikes on a few levels, including a connection with Sean as well as my great-niece Eleanor. I ask her about "the lonely people" every time I talk to her.

The technical issues didn't hurt the show and I have other ideas on how to fix the crossfading concern. It would be nice sometimes to just go from one song to another.

Overall, I pulled the show off without anyone knowing too much "inside radio" knowledge. I did acknowledge my nervousness on the air. It's just how I get.

I thought the show might have been a bit disorganized and that I rambled but all reviews I received were quite favorable.

As the closing song, "Cry For a Shadow" from Anthology 1 concluded, I faded the song into the 10 a.m. news and took a deep breath.

It had been a quick and emotional hour. Ever the softie, I swelled with pride that I was doing this and I suppose a tinge of sadness over who wasn't listening. But my heart felt good with the kind words of support.

The first show is over and I know it will immediately get better. I needed this first one to be mine to work out the cobwebs and the kinks.

There are so many ideas. I didn't fret over playing anything off the beaten path on this first show, opting for songs that are universally known. I stepped away from a studio version just once, playing a live version of "Got to Get You Into My Life."

We can get into the timeline of the lads next week.

We'll "come together" again next Sunday at 9 a.m.

(Today's show is archived here)

The Night Before

 

Brunswick and Hoosac in the second game of the day

It was another day for two game broadcasts.

First Salisbury/Brunswick basketball and then Hoosac/Brunswick hockey.

The basketball game was scheduled for 2:30 with hockey set for 4:00.

When I walked into the Dann Gym, Brunswick coach Steve Juricek greeted me with a joking line about being in the wrong place.

Yes, in truth, I called hockey last Saturday when the basketball team was playing at the same time. I try to be fair to both teams but I had to pick one.

"Hey Rob," he said. "The hockey rink is the other way."

I laughed as the point was duly noted.

I love, love, love that teams want coverage and that they want my voice on that coverage. It won't last forever and we always have to remember that. Moods and opinions and times change.

I hate spots like that, where I can't split the Adams (I used that line on the air and I still cringe at it). I can't get to both. However, it's sort of a good problem to have.

But, today, I liked the odds of calling both games.

So I told coach Juricek and Assistant Coach Zach Dobbs my plan. Eventually, I'd run into hockey head coach Mike Kennedy and tell him the same.

Basketball, often, can be a 90-minute affair. If the basketball game stayed close, then I'd be there for the whole thing before hurrying up to the hockey rink.

I finished the basketball setup, having brought in an audio interface that I bought on eBay a few years ago. It's not the same as Zoom PodTrak P4 but it would do the job.

Yes, I'd still love to have another mixer. I keep checking for deals. I have a problem. If there's Mixer's Anonymous, I'd go.

But the Behringer audio interface would do, and I kept the setup to be minimal and sufficient with no loss of quality. I used the interface and a headset, connecting my computer and the audio input jack in the gym. The only other thing would be to make sure it sounded good when LocalLive went, er, live.

Then, some 2.5 hours early, I walked up to the Hartong Rink's Balkind Balcony to set up for hockey. A junior game was going on and there were people standing in our "broadcast booth" area.

I worked around them as they appeared to be dumbfounded that someone would need the space they had taken over.

I set up the Zoom PodTrak P4, the internet that I'd be using, and a few other cables so that Josh the videographer could get my audio. I wanted to have things set so that I could come back, plug in, and start calling hockey.

The junior game ended as I set up and I scurried out to eat.

Oh yeah, sustenance is an absolute necessity.

(Also, please note the complete level of preparation here)

Back in the gym, I thought things might come to a crashing end as the Bruins hoops squad fell behind by 21 points late in the first half. From there, I figured I'd call the game until late in the second half, pack up, and head back to the rink.

Then Wick nibbled. 

But Salisbury answered.

It continued.

Then the deficit began to dwindle.

It was 62-51. An 11-point lead.

Then the Bruins went on a 21-0 run, fueled by a combination of Jack Stevens's three-pointers and Jaylen Pray's inside presence.

It was 72-62.

Salisbury tried to rally but fell 76-70. It was a standout win for Brunswick.

The postgame was about as fast as I could make it before I threw equipment in a bag and walked quickly to the rink. Somehow, it was just about 3:58 when I walked in.

I set up the computer and plugged things in. Josh and I did a sound test as the teams lined up for the faceoff.

I made it. In the end, I called both games in their entirety.

By the way, there's nothing heroic about this. Nothing special. I talk. 

It's my job and my passion. Granted, nobody said I had to do both games but you know I wanted to.

It doesn't show in the picture but shots on goal were 48-8

The hockey game didn't have the same drama. The Bruins won 6-0 and outshot the Hoosac Owls 48-8.

But this Brunswick hockey team is really special. How special? We'll find out in March, to be honest.

There's such a feeling of satisfaction when the job is done. I know at times the broadcasts are silly and maybe even flippant, which is more acceptable and easier to do when the result is not in doubt.

That's when I can joke about calling both games and needing a cup of coffee and so on.

But I truly believe the broadcasts are always professional.

With the games done, I returned home for the night to get ready for tomorrow.

Something is going on in the morning. At least I think so.

I'll figure it out.

I'll get by with a little help from my friends.

Junior

 

Kevin Devaney Jr announced the passing of his father, Kevin Sr, today on his social media accounts.

I've known Kevin for a bunch of years, first as an outstanding multimedia journalist in the region and now at LocalLive.

With his announcement, and considering I was working for him tonight at Iona Prep, I sent him a quick text to express my condolences. He told me about choosing to use Jr as part of his professional name when he first became a reporter.

The exchange with him and his pride at being a junior reminded me of the pride I've always felt of being a junior.

It's never been quite clear if my father wanted or didn't want to name me after him but I don't think it bothered him in the long run.

I don't know. Professionally, I'm nothing like him, as he was a truck driver and I talk. Then again, he never wanted me to do what he did.

But I am like him in terms of my diplomacy, smile, and I think his overall personality. Let's not discuss temper.

I never considered using junior professionally. In some ways, being "Rob Adams, Jr" wouldn't have worked because my father was never known as "Rob."

He was Donald/Don and Bob.

But I'm mighty proud to be named after him regardless.

I suppose it's selfish that it struck me today as I spoke with Kevin, but then again, I like talking about my old man. I like keeping his memory alive.

Sean, of course, isn't a junior but is partially named after my dad thanks to his middle name.

So, despite not having the full matching name, he has a lot of the same personality traits (and looks) to be just like me and my dad.

I miss the man every day but I'm fiercely proud of my lineage of being a junior.

And I know Kevin is also.

May Kevin Devaney Sr rest in peace.

*****

Today worked out really well, despite my concerns about the weather.

It snowed but it didn't stick too badly so I never missed a beat today. I made every stop in my day. 

I was even able to stop back at the apartment to host "Doubleheader" before heading to New Rochelle for the basketball game.

I'm pretty fond of a day like this in that, you know, I love it when a plan comes together.

The basketball game was a definitive win for Iona Prep but not every game can be a classic.

The plan moves into Saturday, in which I'm calling basketball at Brunswick at 2:30 and then walking over to the hockey rink to call that at 4:00.

Oh, and then Sunday. Have I mentioned I'm starting something on Sunday morning?

At 9 a.m.?

I think I've worked out the details of the first edition of "Meet the Beatles" and have even picked the first song.

It could all change.

But I hope to be in the studio, with breakfast in hand, sending you a valentine, birthday greetings, bottle of wine.

Sorry for the overkill (aka "promoting").

Snow Whine

 

Interstate 287 in Harrison, NY today

If the rain comes

They run and hide their heads

They might as well be dead

If the rain comes

If the rain comes

- "Rain" by Lennon/McCartney, 1966

The song "Rain" was written primarily by John Lennon "about people moaning about the weather all the time."

It's me. Tonight, I'm the whiner.

It's me.

Look, I said that it's supposed to snow in winter recently. That it's supposed to be cold.

We're awaiting our second dose of a small snowstorm this week. We might get one to three inches which, of course, is nothing to people in other parts of the country. In fact, they've got over three feet up near Buffalo, NY.

These little dumpy storms are just annoying. In the aftermath, with the air too cold to melt it, the area becomes gray and ugly.

That was my take as we got out of the house today.

Fearing we might be housebound tomorrow, it seemed like a good time to take a ride and go for a walk at The Westchester mall.

In White Plains, while others were at Tiffany's, Gucci, Rolex, and Louis Vuitton, Sean and I grabbed lunch in the food court and went to Newbury Comics.

The Funko vinyl Pop figures have long fascinated me, and I have a couple of them (Ferris Bueller and Terry Bradshaw) so I normally look at the wall full of them. 

As I was finishing up, one grabbed my eye.

Lou Gehrig. Nope, I couldn't resist it.

It's here now on my bookcase.

I'm hopeful that we'll get out tomorrow and that whatever is coming isn't that bad. Admittedly, not going out is just playing it safe and I don't see anything wrong with that.

But I looked at plane tickets to Florida just for fun.

Oh, we're going, but not likely until March.

So, yeah, John Lennon can certainly blame me.

When the snow comes, I run and hide my head.

Oh, and snow brings school postponements and cancelations.

That hurts me professionally because it means games get postponed and, chances are, they're rescheduled when I'm not available to work. Thus it hurts me in the checkbook.

People are also moaning at how easily schools get canceled or postponed these days but can you blame them? They have to look out for kids and teachers/staff, for that matter. I can't be angry at that.

The snow is pretty for a moment.

And then it's over.

I'm over it.

But Dinner Was Good

 

Start the computer. Check.

Open up the program. Check.

Update the software. Check.

Check that everything is working.

Again, check.

And when it's time to go, it doesn't work.

Worse, not everyone will wait for the issue to be resolved.

That was the conundrum today. Whether in broadcasting or anything else, we've all been in these situations. You train, practice, study, cram, and are ready.

And then? 

Poof.

The details don't matter. Some situations are more high leverage than others.

Then the blood begins to build in the face. The headache starts. The sweat begins to bead on the forehead.

The veins in the neck get sore from the tension.

The stomach twists.

Simply screwing up can be compounded by pointing fingers and "I told you so" moments.

And then it's all falling apart.

My face still feels red.

I own mistakes. If anything I often accept them too easily. I'm a home office for them, even when I don't commit them because I don't want the situation to fester. I want it gone as soon as possible.

But in no way is it a result of carelessness or anything like that.

The boxes were checked off and now I'm sitting here wanting to crawl into a hole and disappear for a few days.

Until Friday. I have a reason to come back into the world then. Plus I have a game that night (7 p.m. Mount Saint Michael/Iona Prep).

Oh, and Saturday, when I have Brunswick hockey and basketball.

And Sunday at 9 a.m. You know, because you saw you want a revolution.

It happens as the title of the post said. It happened but not because of carelessness. It happened because of misunderstanding and even confusion? Sure. If that's my screw-up, so be it.

Obviously, I'm not explaining all of it due to a variety of reasons, including the chaos in the moment. And, look, how we respond to chaos says a lot.

I prefer collaboratively but I also get being frustrated.

I just rotated my neck and, holy moly, I need a massage.

I probably also need an Advil or something.

So it does happen. I have to allow myself the grace to understand that because it will otherwise haunt me all night.

It will hang on me until I need an exorcism.

The key, of course, is to not let it happen again.

And further, understand that all parties recognized that it was just a perfect storm moment.

Lots of blame to go around and, yet, really, is blame necessary?

Move along, friends.

Now, let's not make to much of this either. Every day for over five years I've had to come up with a topic in this insane need to keep a streak going.

Sometimes they're ruminations on things that are a blip on the radar. 

Like this.

Yes, it's bothering me because 1) I'm a perfectionist and 2) I didn't like how this played out given I was *ahem* prepared but so it goes. Things gnaw at me. In a related story, the earth is round.

The sun, as it has a tendency to do, will rise tomorrow.

I currently have the apartment to myself since Sean has gone to a movie back in the Hudson Valley. 

I have some music going on my portable Bluetooth speaker.

Music, as it has been said forever, always calms the savage beast.

No, it's not The Beatles. Shocked, right? Instead, I opted for Traffic's 1970 album John Barleycorn Must Die. I figured I needed something a little low-key, yet jazzy. Kind of something to check out while listening to.

Not everyone's taste I know but this is working for me, so hey.

I'm also working on making some dinner, so a plate of ravioli will soothe my soul.

Another tale has been told. 

Things to think about and yet best to put it in the past.

And we keep moving forward.

Love Your Preparation

The Quarrymen, including two guys named McCartney and Lennon

Once I get involved in something, it's a commitment.

I'm pretty firm when it comes to commitments.

The latest is "Meet the Beatles," my new show on WGCH, beginning Sunday morning at nine.

To that end, last night I assembled the theme music and created a promo that will begin running on WGCH tomorrow.

I've played it for Sean and everything is receiving his approval.

Today, I began researching bits and pieces of the lads' past as that will be part of the opening show.

Or, should I say I'm reconfirming the myriad things I've read over the years. I've read plenty and have so much more that I can read.

If you know who Ivan Vaughan and Pete Shotton are, then you're on the right page.

If you know Stu Sutcliffe and Pete Best, well, you probably should have a vague idea, but you're still in the right place.

It's a fresh canvas and I've been thinking over the things I want to talk about. To that end, I'm also thinking about the songs I want to play on the first show.

And that helps explain the extent of what this show will be like. The Beatles emerged from the likes of Elvis Presley and the Everly Brothers and Carl Perkins and Chuck Berry and, of course, Buddy Holly and the Crickets (think about it).

But they also came from Lonnie Donegan. Ever heard of him?

I'm sure many of you have, and that's good. This is all part of the journey.

This is the same way I'm feeling about the Hudson Valley Vipers hockey team. I learned that Saturday night's broadcast was very well-received and we're going to consider doing more games.

That led me to dig deeper into learning more about the players and the league. As I mentioned at the time, that's a challenge because information is seriously lacking as of now. In fact, the initial schedule that I had has vastly changed.

With nothing set in stone yet, all I can do is plot the games on my calendar and wait to see if the pieces come together.

But, of course, it's so gratifying to hear that the broadcast received good reviews given it was truly not my best. I'd like to think that will only get better.

It's fun to get fired up and go into that "all-in" frame of mind to start researching and preparing.

With "Meet the Beatles" I'm thinking about the first song to play and how to present it. I'm thinking about potential guests and stories to tell. 

It's all exciting. 

It's all new.

And I'm hoping it will be a show that will be way beyond compare.

A Splendid Time is Guaranteed For All

 

Let me take you down...

My first job in radio was as a DJ, playing Whitney Houston at midnight to six in the morning on Majic 105.

While I deviated and played a few things that I liked, it was never really my taste in music. Adult contemporary could be rather bland. I'm all for "Yacht Rock" but that time of night could be brutal.

I've worked almost entirely in sports since. Obviously, I've done a lot of news and some other stuff but sports has been the vast majority. Of course, I've had the pleasure of hosting the Greenwich Town Party on WGCH for several years now.

Once in a rare while I'd get to dabble in music on the radio but I often thought about doing a radio show.

Now, it's happening.

Roughly a year in discussion, I'm thrilled to say I'm starting a Beatles radio show this Sunday morning at nine on WGCH.

The working title, which Sean likes, is "Meet the Beatles" and it will be a one-hour, er, magical mystery tour to examine the songs of the Fab Four and the world around them.

"Across the Universe" was in fact one of the many titles I bounced around as this will be a show about The Beatles' music but also their solo careers and the music of their influences and those they influenced. With that, there is much to examine, and I love that feeling. In other words, it's The Beatles universe.

Like "Doubleheader" I hope the show can be interactive and I do hope to welcome some guests. At the very least, I have friends who are Beatles fans and I know that can be a jumping-off point. Perhaps we can get other guests as well.

At first, I just want to find a rhythm so the first show will stick to the basics. It will be an introduction. 

But, as you can imagine, there will be a lot of ways this show can go.

I realize there are so many shows about the most famous band ever and, as with anything else, I'll have to find my way.

My first love in broadcasting will always be sports. Always. But I'm thrilled to do a music show and a show about a band that has meant so much to me.

Join me beginning this Sunday on WGCH (no Facebook live due to copyright issues) at 9 a.m. We'll figure out an archive if that is possible.

I'll be some days in preparation.

That should make some happy.

Yeah. Yeah. Yeah.

*****

(Photo: Paramount Plus)

The Steelers just lost to the Bills in the AFC Wild Card round. They got behind 21-0 and while they made it a game, the better team won. I congratulate the Bills and wish them well. They'll be tough through these playoffs.

See how easy that was? There were no cutesie names to put Buffalo down or 35 social media posts to mock or berate.

I think I posted once during the game and I said, "Welp."

Because that said it all.

Being a fan isn't often an easy thing because knowing how to win gracefully is every bit as tough as losing with dignity.

I hate to lose. Oh, I hate it.

But I thrive on trying to hold my head high. To do it any other way just makes sports fans look bad.

The team I root for got waxed but it also ended one of the most memorable seasons for me.

We got to Pittsburgh back in July, as training camp was rolling along. We visited Acrisute Stadium, checking out the Steelers' Hall of Honor.

We returned in early November and I went to my first game in almost 20 years. I also got to go with people that mean so much to me.

And I went because Sean wanted us to go. Now it could become an annual thing. We've already talked about next year.

But I feel no harm in losing to the Bills. I respect them and their fan base and I like Josh Allen. 

The reaction to the Cowboys losing last night reminded me of what it's like to be a Yankees fan.

And for the Green Bay Packers, all they need is Love (I'll see myself out now).

To that end, I'm ready for baseball.

Bears and Snakes

 

Standing for the anthem in Poughkeepsie

The long day was a drive away from being over.

Two games. Six periods. Over five hours on the air. Plus, an hour-plus drive and still another one before I'd be home.

But I was hungry.

On a day like this, preparation means having some food and drink available.

A day like this is a marathon.

So there I was, in a place that I didn't want to be at a time I didn't want to be there.

McDonald's at 11:30 p.m.

I just needed some French fries and maybe a few McNuggets. It was sufficient for the drive home.

Oh, I had eaten earlier, grabbing an appropriately named "Bruin" sandwich in Greenwich. Brunswick, if you don't know, is called the Bruins and the sandwich had chicken and cheese and bacon and BBQ sauce.

And Brunswick was the first stop, as the Bruins played Hill School. The Bruins blasted Hill on Friday night in Pennsylvania 8-2. Saturday's game was a closer affair as Brunswick jumped out to a lead before Hill closed the gap.

A late rush by Hill resulted in a turnover and the Bruins snagged an empty-netter for a 5-3 win.

A quick pack up ensued for me and I was on the road to Poughkeepsie.

It's a drive of few moving parts and traffic was calm so I cruised up into the Hudson Valley.

I stopped in Lagrangeville at a Dunkin (Donuts) for a fuel-up cup of coffee. 

I supposed, in hindsight, that I should have grabbed a bite but, frankly, I wasn't hungry. Plus I knew there would be a snack bar in the arena.

A few minutes later, I parked at the Mid-Hudson Civic Center and walked down to the entrance to the McCarnn Ice Arena. Everyone -- every member of the staff  -- was welcoming and helpful. The Hudson Valley Vipers were within two hours of playing their home opener.

I heard it several times -- "Thanks for being here" -- which was great encouragement.

Now it was time to set up for the first official home game in Hudson Valley Vipers history. Their opponents were the Boston Gold Kings.

The press table

The arena doesn't have a press area so we had to create one. With wifi quickly secured, a table was rounded up and placed in the first row of the VIP section. I'd have to call this one sitting down because to stand up would mean blocking the view of fans.

I wrote yesterday about concocting the rosters from scraps of information and, overall, those turned out to be fine. There were minimal hiccups. But information was so limited otherwise. Still, as a native of the Hudson Valley, I knew I could use a ton of background info to fill in as necessary.

I also had allies with me, as my cousin Kris, his grandson Logan, and friend Danny joined me. Coincidentally, they bought tickets before I confirmed that I was going to call the game. Honestly, if I needed food that badly, they could watch the equipment for me to run to the snack bar.

That wasn't necessary.

The night wasn't perfect, nor did I expect it to be. The limited information meant my tired brain needed to work harder, especially during the downtime. The intermissions were interminable and I elected to stay live, playing some public service announcements to break up the monotony.

In a perfect world, perhaps we could have interviewed a player or team official, or even the mayor of Poughkeepsie, who was in attendance to drop the ceremonial first puck.

The hockey was good with the Vipers getting their first lead late in the first period on a right circle wrist shot by Patrick Sullivan. Yet there was an edge as players from both teams were sniping at each other as the period ended.

That edge rolled into a rollicking second period, as both teams scored almost at will. Eight goals and myriad penalties went on the scorecard in the frame. The Vipers led 6-3 after the second stanza.

Of note was two more goals for Sullivan, marking the first-ever hat trick in Vipers history.

Then it was time to play the feud. The score became almost immaterial -- the Vipers scored three more times -- as fans anticipated some hockey fisticuffs.

They weren't disappointed. Several scraps broke out, into a battle in the near side right corner as enforcer Sal Safonte landed a collection of haymakers. He'd eventually get ushered to the penalty box and played to the crowd the entire time.

Later on, he was tossed off the ice. However, unlike so many other levels, he didn't head back to the locker room. 

Sal Safonte (#4) and Brett Beigert (#26) stand near fans 
after being removed from the game

He, and the others, stood on the stairs into the stands, urging the crowd to make more noise and accepting handshakes from the rapturous crowd.

When it was all over, the Vipers had a 9-3 victory -- the first in team history. 

And it all aired on Robcasting.

After the game, Sullivan handed Logan his game stick and, eventually, he got it signed by what seemed like the entire Vipers team.

A happy Logan with his stick and puck, courtesy of the Vipers

In the area below the booth, players mingled and signed autographs.

That's minor league sports. It's so affordable and fan-friendly. It's also rough around the edges. Sometimes it unfortunately becomes bigger business as it gets more popular and teams have to take appropriate measures. But this team is as "regular guy" as you can get. The players are salesmen in their own right. Fans walk to and from the parking lot with them.

It's no-frills, but there was a palpable excitement for what turned out to be a huge crowd.

For the second time in the day, I packed the equipment and headed for the exit.

Escaping Poughkeepsie, I made the stop at McDonald's before getting on the Taconic Parkway for the drive home.

Oh, it was a long night and I was exhausted when I made it back to Greenwich but I accomplished what I wanted to.

I felt this was historic and it needed coverage. However long the team plays they can now have the audio of these first moments if they want. Maybe they use it on highlight reels or in team promos. That would actually be great.

The game -- in all its "ad-hoc" glory, can be heard here. It can be better, of course, and it will be better. The team and I can work together to make it better with better information. Rome wasn't built in a day.

Will I be back for future games? Probably, especially if Kris, Logan and, yes, Danny are there (it's required that one gives Danny grief for simply existing. I don't make the rules.). 

Maybe I'll work in an analyst (Dan Murphy, just sayin').

But fans should come out and enjoy this. Make it a happening.

I don't like snakes.

I like the Vipers.