Talking, It's What I Do

 

Harvard Club, NYC

The alarm sounded at 4 a.m. I had just spoken on a microphone for hours the night before.

A conference was a few hours away and it was go time. I'd be back on the mic again.

I pulled myself together to head out the door. There was a 4:49 train out of Greenwich and I preferred to be on that.

Initially, I wanted to walk to the station. I thought it would be a nice workout in the cool air of the early morning. However, knowing that the walk would take some time, I could either sleep until 4 a.m. and drive or get up earlier. So I got whatever sleep I could (minimal, of course), got ready, and drove to the train station.

I grabbed a spot on the street near the station, paid for parking, paid for a train ticket on my phone, and was on the platform by 4:47.

The trip was quiet, and I strolled into the Harvard Club in Manhattan at 6 a.m.

It was a half-day conference and, once again, I think my colleagues crushed it. I got to do something different, moderating a fireside chat/panel discussion with two professionals in the industry. The tricky thing in this is that I'm taking someone else's words and making them sound appropriate. Still, it's like a radio or podcast interview and I have some experience with those.

I thought it came off pretty well, along with the rest of the day.

Somewhere along the line, I realized I'd also screwed up. I grabbed a pair of black pants back in Greenwich before reaching back into my closet to grab the appropriate suit jacket. Black suit, right?

Nope. Somehow, pinhead that I am, I grabbed a navy jacket. It was hours before I realized anything was amiss. Fortunately, nobody seemed to be any wiser, despite how embarrassed I felt.

A black and white cookie later, we missed our first train by seconds, grabbed a second train, and came home.

And I had a parking ticket. I will be dealing with that tomorrow.

The Bowling Green Hot Rods celebrate

All of this wrapped up a whirlwind 24 hours that began last night with the Renegades in their ultimate game of the South Atlantic League Championship.

Alas, a title was not to be. Bowling Green had a 2-0 lead, watched it get cut to 2-1, and eventually won 4-1. The Renegades ran out of magic, unfortunately.

There were tears and lots of melancholy as the Hot Rods celebrated near the pitchers mound. My job at that point was to remain professional and facilitate the introduction of the ceremony to present the league championship trophy before saying goodnight to the fans and supporting my colleagues.

I congratulated Bowling Green, thanked the fans and the crew, and just tried to end on a high note.

I have been around the Hudson Valley Renegades organization in parts since 2001. That, counting the COVID season, is 24 seasons of play-by-play, color commentary, public address announcing, and on-field hosting. I was there a lot over the years and I loved it. I've been there as a fan since the stadium opened in 1994.

As it is for all of us part-timers, we're all terminated effective today. It sounds cold but it's just business. Oh, sure, we can all be rehired before next April, but nothing is guaranteed. For me, it will start as an offseason of uncertainty. The 2024 Renegades season was interesting. Fascinating. Frustrating. Exhilarating. And nearly euphoric.

There were myriad highs and some absolutely frustrating moments as well. 

But what I know is I absolutely love the people I work with. Obviously, starting with Sean and Lori, but also Clicks, Fish, Beats, the Jasons, Guido, Alli, Lurch, Anthony, and so on.

I can't name everyone. Apologies to those I didn't name. To many, I might be "the voice" on the PA system. My face probably isn't well known. But there are so many wonderful personalities, like "Batman," the guy who walked around dressed with a Batman mask on, speaking in the Christian Bale "growl."

Yet, as we all left the booth, we got a sad reminder that all good things must end...

Long live "Batman"

If last night was the end for me, I want to walk away proud and happy. That's what I did, despite the loss. I don't want sadness. I don't want to avert my eyes when I drive by the stadium on I-84. I want to remember the good -- and there was plenty of that.

I was once the play-by-play announcer for the Hudson Valley Renegades. An affiliate of the New York Yankees. I'm profoundly proud of that.

If there's more, then bring it on. I love baseball. I love Minor League Baseball. 

Maybe the picture clears up quickly.

I need it.

It's Real but It's Parody

 

I am a big fan of parody.

Think back to movies like "Airplane" and you'll get the idea.

For a span of roughly 10 years I was part of a group that produced an annual video for the softball league I was a player and, yes, broadcaster. Every year we created some form of parody with a lot of "inside jokes" and others that made sense.

Ah, the memories.

And when I see something I can have fun with, I do it. It can be about anything or anyone. Generally speaking, it's harmless. It's not normally meant to be mean-spirited, but such is our world today. For instance, calling someone a "prep snob" might go badly.

Lately, I've been posting a series of self-serving photos in relation to my broadcasting work. I struggled to post them initially out of fear of anyone taking them too seriously. I don't have that high an opinion of myself or my work. I'm always touched and encouraged by kind words but also know they're quite fleeting.

The latest one was a reminder of a memory from 2021 when a young man named Charlie insisted on getting an autograph from me as I called a Renegades game. I'm pretty sure I wrote about the interaction on the blog because I was really blown away by the moment.

But sharing these things again, especially in the vivacious way I'm doing so, using ALL CAPS on certain words is a complete parody.

To those in on the joke, I appreciate the support. To those liking the posts out of whatever regard for me you have, thank you.

But, in truth, I don't need that kind of self-promotion. In fact, I'm generally against such things.

Yet, given the response, I'll keep doing them because I think it's hitting the target. That being the funny bone.

Oh, and I'll keep sharing them because apparently that needs to be part of the formula. Often, they're shared several times a month.

However, the response will never be where people are going to hire me. That's simply fool's gold to think that. In fact, the person responsible for the real version of these types of posts was told to stop doing it in a group that I'm an admin. When he refused and actually got a bit nasty about it, he was thrown out. He still complains about it.

But let's have a look at a few of my "MASTERPIECES."

The original. I went back and found a few shots taken of me calling Bridgeport Bluefish baseball in 2002. I decided to use a simple one-liner that gets the point across. Look at all of those NOTES in the background!

Chris Erway took this picture and, well, the comment was a direct shot across the bow. It likely didn't work but it made us laugh. Also, as I said, a key component is to keep posting them.

This picture was taken at Oxford this past July and the comment was real. So, yeah.

Joe Early took this picture one day circa 2017. And, yes, Mike Richter really did call me that, though I doubt he would ever remember it. But I saw an opportunity and went with it.

A favorite. I wasn't aware this picture was being taken until I saw it on Instagram in a story. I wasn't initially tagged in it but I like how natural it is. Bob Gerbet is to my left as we call Little League Baseball this summer.

As for the quote, no, I'm quite sure that "Phil G." wouldn't refer to us as the "Best Booth in Baseball." Thus, in this case, the parody is multifaceted, including a dig at me, I suppose. Yes, I'm in on the joke.

I could keep going on! Here's another good one.

A real comment from Shawn Sailer last week and, given Shawn is Mr. Fairfield (aka #OneTown), and a Fairfield Ludlowe graduate, I included this photo of me and the Ludlowe Falcon mascot from 2015. Thus, for the BIRDS!

And, lastly, what is possible the coup de grâce...

Our friend in question had a cake ready for his 900th career broadcast in a 40-plus year career. 

I saw where a laugh was possible as I approached 1,900 earlier this year. The game came and went with minimal mention because, overall, who cares? I hit 1,000 several years back and friends were kind to want to be around for that broadcast.

But I did joke with Shawn about wanting a cheesecake for my 1,900th. No, I really didn't but he still had fun with it.

In the long run, it's a nice personal milestone and I'm quite sure I will raise a glass when I hit 2,000 likely in 2025. 

But I also intend to do so quietly. Sure, I might write a post but I'm always reminded that the broadcasts aren't about me.

It will be a moment of reflection. I'm actually quite conflicted when it comes to it because I want them to be broadcasts of quality and yet I think I should have more games under my headset.

But, given the NEED for cake and celebration for 900, Shawn saw the opening for a parody with a certain HOGARTHIAN quality to it.

So, now you know when you see these MAGNANIMOUS words (all real, and not AI, for whatever that is worth) from fans, friends, and strangers, you'll understand.

I'm posting them tongue very firmly planted in cheek, but overall, more importantly, it is their words, NOT MINE.

Try Again

 

Just before sunrise at Buc-ee's, Florence, SC, 3/19/24

Once again, the sun came up.

Once again, I pulled myself out of bed, mostly because The Cat knocked a bottle of water flying at 6 a.m. and spilled all over my bedroom floor.

A perfect start to the day. All I could do was laugh.

Once again, I sit at my computer, answering questions and writing more nonsensical words.

Yes, friends, I expressed frustration yesterday. No, I was not in a good frame of mind. Even when I tried to get out of it, well, things happen.

In the process, priorities get rearranged and emotions get scrambled and soon I'm having a meltdown on "Doubleheader," and...

So I come here to this space to say some things. Of course, it's not a private world. These words -- useless as they are -- are open to scrutiny. 

That, of course, serves as a reminder that I should just stay quiet. But, as I can't afford therapy, well, there's that.

People mean well. 

For now, I'm still intending to broadcast games. I have football on Friday and Saturday. I'm going to prep for them.

Assuming I'm still needed.

Then I'm going to watch the Renegades in Game 2 of the SAL Championship.

As a fan.

So I can just laugh and relax. If the Gades win, I work tomorrow. 

We just keep moving forward.

Even when we take a step behind.

Respect Should Be Expected

 

No respect

OK, so today wasn't good.

I might even say it was bad.

It involved work, respect, and lack of both for me.

I admit, I lost my patience and temper with both.

I'm past it now, save for the delightful side effects of depression and snark, which are in abundance, but as always, I'll deal.

Honestly, I have no other choice, no matter how bleak things feel.

But, if I'm being honest, I suggested to a few people that I'd be willing to just put the equipment up for sale or even give it away.

Yeah, I was that mad.

And I'm still pretty bummed.

The details aren't appropriate to get into due to my desire to not overstep and burn bridges. 

But after all of these years and the so-called all-important compliments that I'm supposed to share with the world (har har) I find myself asking the age-old question: Is it me?

Oh, I could get into the nitty gritty of explaining the effort, grinding, blah blah blah just to get nothing but then I just sound like any other whining fool.

So, I'll keep this to myself.

But, no question, it makes me reassess things. 

This is a continuation of things being dangled in front of me and then disappearing. In that regard, I'm OK, because I'd rather have something definitive. Just be done with it.

But I didn't like how this one happened.

To be honest, I deserve better. But, apparently, I'm also not meant to understand it.

Anyway, thanks for reading. 

Onto tomorrow.

Professional Courtesy

 

Mahopac High School. It all started here.

I got to go home last night.

I was back in Mahopac at the annual Jimmy Buffett party with the same core of friends that has attended every year since the early 90s.

Save for a few years during COVID and a rare time when I couldn't get there, I've been there for all of them.

Last night was no different, save for the reality of age. Where I might have once stayed until 4 a.m. I was yawning by 10:30.

The food was great, the beverages were cold, and the laughs were raucous.

Debauchery? That's an annual thing to an extent, though it does get tempered by the presence of young children. After all, most of us are parents now.

In fact, a couple of the kids were there last night, except they're of age now.

To be honest, you wouldn't necessarily peg us all for being friends. Yes, there is sports talk, especially hockey, among that group, but there's plenty of other stuff to talk about. But, mostly, the commonality is that we went to high school together and that's the bond.

Regardless, our differences aren't a big deal. 

As I joked with a friend, "I'm boring and I always have been."

"Sometimes boring is great," came the response.

Maybe I don't know why they like me but I feel loved when I'm among them.

It also means a chance to drive past my parent's house to see how things are progressing. It was pretty dark when I drove by but it's looking great.

It's all nostalgic and familiar.

But, mostly, the night is about a certain level of ritual. The fire-breathing routine. The toast. The jokes -- not for the sensitive types. The ribbing, which could be about literally anything.

We're friends. There's loyalty. And whatever differences there are, the friendship overrides everything.

Contrast that with petty relationships. Earlier this week, Sean and I attended the 9/11 memorial ceremony at Cos Cob Park. Also in attendance was a former colleague and, at times, a friend. 

But I guess not. 

Not only does he not acknowledge my existence but, as someone who works for the town, never shares any of my work. For instance, you'd think someone who works for the first selectman and, thus, the town would share the information that WGCH -- the town's radio station -- was broadcasting the memorial event.

Or ever noting our coverage of high school football, "Meet the Beatles," "Doubleheader," etc. In fact, he'll post the work of others writing about Greenwich and Brunswick football -- games that I call.

In other words, anything I do, he wants nothing to do with.

Which, OK, so be it. He doesn't like me because, unlike many others, I don't just pat him on the head.

The term "That's just (insert name here)" doesn't really fly with me. It's generally a cop-out but I know that's how people act when it comes to him.

I laughed at his avoidance of me, telling Sean about it when we were in the car. He took note of the person also.

"Yeah. That's weird," was Sean's reaction.

But I guess it just seems petty the more I think about it.

You can't please everyone. Part of being a friend is understanding differences and, admittedly, he and I are quite different. And yet, not entirely.

But so be it.

Like Sean said, it's weird.

We could just agree to disagree.

Incidentally, this guy has been spotted being friendly online with a certain toxic fellow.

So, yeah. I've made my enemies over the years I guess.

But I know who my friends are.

Challenges Accepted

 

4:35pm: the booth is still locked

I was prepared.

Notes, one roster, equipment.

It was 1:30 p.m.

I stopped at WGCH and picked up their equipment. So I had more than I needed, deciding I'd rely on the radio stations things.

I was hungry, but I'd stop for food in Fairfield. I'd grab a cup of coffee also.

But traffic. For the love of Henry Ford.

I listened to the radio. I thought. I stayed calm.

Finally, I was in West Haven. I deviated off my path to a nearby CVS to get water and throat drops before heading to Ken Strong Stadium at West Haven High School. I left the apartment at 1:30 for a 6 p.m. game.

It was now just past 4:00.

Did I mention traffic? Stamford, Norwalk, Westport, Fairfield, Bridgeport, Stratford, Orange, Milford. All slow.

But I was there. I parked, grabbed my backpack and the bag of WGCH's equipment, and strolled into Ken Strong Stadium. Greenwich had just arrived and were making their way to the field to get loose. I made my way to the press box.

Which was locked. Because of course, it was.

Oh, and have I mentioned that it was now under two hours to air time and I still didn't have a roster for West Haven? Again, how would those who need ten hours to prepare survive?

I was annoyed but also amused and fairly calm.

Dan Murphy showed up shortly after I got there. Greenwich coach Tony Morello walked over and talked with us. He made it clear he was confident in his team and for good reason.

It was well past 5 p.m. now. No booth. No roster.

Again, while befuddled, I saw it as a challenge. The wheels are always spinning. I'm thinking about places I can set up if needed. There's a level above the press box which wouldn't please my heights issues but it also would be problematic with coaches and camera people up there. My guess was there would be no space.

I thought maybe we could grab a spot in the stands, especially on the visiting side. We probably could have gotten a power feed if needed for the computer and mixer.

As for the roster, if there is a PA announcer, I'd either take a picture of his copy and work off that or follow his lead. Either way, I'd make this work. Dan and I knew who West Haven's playmakers were.

Finally, at well past 5:20 (note: our on-air time was supposed to be 5:50), a West Haven staff member came up with keys jingling off a belt loop. He opened up the booth and informed us we were to be in the back of the press box, on the second level.

Chris Erway and I worked from there once, for a championship doubleheader back in 2014. One would say it's not ideal.

Make it work

As always, I saw it as a challenge. Dan will see me angry one of these days but his first opener didn't need to be that day.

I plugged in the computer, mixer, and headsets, and got on the internet. The only thing we didn't have -- and wouldn't have -- was a crowd microphone. The press box there required a long run of mic cable but, more importantly, a microphone is required.

WGCH's gear bag didn't have a microphone in it. I had one in my car along with extra cable but I decided against it.

Maybe I wasn't prepared after all.

Nonsense. We could use our headsets and survive just fine. I'll get a microphone in the bag before the next game.

The PA announcer walked in with a list in his hand. My eye is trained to spot such things after all this time. I quickly asked him if I could take a picture and he said I could actually have a copy.

Thus, no panic. No need to. It all comes together. Embrace the challenge and crush it.

We connected to WGCH and everything was ready, except the show before us had an interview that would run past 5:50. We had to wait until 5:55 to go live.

"What's five more minutes?" I said to Dan. Under that calm shell was a slightly annoyed interior. I wish we'd known about 5:55 as I had promoted 5:50 for basically six months.

But, OK. 

My annoyance was that I knew we'd not really have much time to do a real opening and we had been preparing for this moment. Of course, you make plans and the broadcast gods laugh. Thus we're good at adjusting.

A short opening, the anthem, and a commercial later, it was time to go.

From there, it was football.

Dan was awesome. He was a steady hand, knowing my cadence and understanding the flow of how we do things. Yes, we've already called a football game last year and a few hockey games as well but this was different.

The booth sight lines were a challenge as expected but I relished them. We worked well with the people sitting in front of us. The whole thing felt good.

I'm not going to tell you my call was perfect. But I'm comfortable with it for week one. I'm comfortable in my belief that WGCH does this as well as anyone. I say that as the radio station celebrates its 60th anniversary today, and you bet I'm proud to be a part of that.

When it was over, Greenwich scored 14 in the first quarter and rolled to a 24-6 win. To the Cardinals, it was a small measure of revenge for last year's season-ending loss to the Blue Devils in the state semifinal.

There were smiles all around, including the group of fathers we visited with as the players got ready for the bus ride home. The dads handed a bag of food to each of us. A nice surprise to wrap up a successful start.

We're onto the Stamford next Saturday for the Cardinals and Black Knights. Before that, I'm heading to Salisbury for Brunswick's road game against the Crimson Knights. 

Yes, Knights and Knights.

And the Renegades have advanced to the SAL Championship. And I have a conference on Thursday. 

So, the week is getting busy.

Just as I like it.

The Opener

 

The tradition continues. WGCH Radio, GHS, 2000
(L-R: Sean Kilklelly, me, Bob Small)

Opening Day.

Every Opening Day deserves a post. Even if it's Opening Night.

It all feels fresh.

There are nerves. Always. Sometimes it's worse than other years. I learned that I wanted those nerves. I like them. 

It is healthy. It is a reminder that this is all a privilege as well as a job. It can be fleeting and gone in a moment. I'm never convinced that I've earned any of this. I'm not entitled to it.

There was a point early last December when I wondered if I would ever broadcast Greenwich football again. Things happen and I worry.

Then the offseason creeps along and you wonder if WGCH will commit to another year. Will we get sponsors? Are we wanted? 

Then Chris Erway announced he was moving.

But Greenwich High School is happy we're back. We have sponsors (and can always use more). To that end, if you have any interest in sales, reach out to me.

And Dan Murphy is ready to rock tonight in the booth. 

Oh, there will still be nerves and doubt. I have no doubt about Dan or Sean Kilkelly, again in the studio this season. I trust both of them.

Most of the doubt is the result of the Blue Meanies* swimming around in my brain.

* It's a Beatles reference.

What do I worry about?

I'm still waiting on a West Haven roster. Traffic through Stamford. That I'm prepared enough for the #PrepSnobs of the world. Traffic through Westport. That the equipment is working, especially after we had a computer issue in the studio yesterday. Traffic through Bridgeport. Getting to the game site with enough time. Yes, you actually can have too much time at a game site and you have to adjust without getting stale. Traffic from Milford to West Haven. Parking at the site. Given access to the site. Hoping the booth is open early enough. Hoping Dan's trip is OK. Hoping I haven't forgotten anything.

And...

Hoping I remember how to call a football game.

You will say, "But Rob! Dear Rob! You are the most verily of professionals! It will all be OK!"

Look, I get that so much of what I just said is largely out of my control and the result of anxiety. It's in my head. All duly noted. But these are the checkboxes that especially exist before the first broadcast. They're actually sort of necessary. It keeps me humble.

Because, in the long run, I want everything to be in the neighborhood of perfect. I want people to remain every bit as pleased and impressed as they've been for a quarter of a century. I want people to say this is as good or even better than what they hear at the professional level.

I read the notes about those who are seen as "the best in Connecticut/Tri-State Area/the world." OK, sure. Cool.

I've always wanted people to be proud that I'm their play-by-play announcer. I don't want them to cringe at that thought. If they're asked about game coverage, I want them to feel proud of me and recommend the work I've helped create.

My first Greenwich football broadcast was in 1999. I was a frozen sideline reporter who could have been the analyst had another person not shown up. In 2000, I became the lead announcer and have worked Greenwich football ever since. I've missed only a few games, not including 2014-15 when I was at the HAN Network. I did some GHS football but not every game. I even did a 7-on-7 game during COVID in 2020. I've covered spring football games, hosted the team banquet, attended golf tournaments, and so on.

Otherwise, it took surgery, a business trip to San Francisco, and my niece's wedding (with no backup for me) to miss these games.

And I have a wonderful connection at Brunswick as well. I truly enjoy that relationship and have wished for it to be more. I wish I could split myself in two and get over to Cosby Field to handle Cheshire Academy/Wick tonight. But I can't, so I'll see the Bruins next week at Salisbury if I'm still wanted/needed.

See what I mean? The mind is a dangerous thing. 

And, as always, I just want a home.

Enough. It's time to get back to prepping, which is more than just writing notes and studying rosters. It's pulling things together and being ready mentally.

Greenwich and West Haven will be live at 5:50 p.m. on WGCH (1490 am), online at wgch.com, and on Robcasting at robcasting.mixlr.com.

If you have Alexa, Radio Garden, Tune In, or another method I'm not thinking of, you can find WGCH there. We're on smartphones and iPads and computers and radios.

If you've never listened, give us a try. If you have listened in the past, please join us again.

We're not a "Game of the Week" that covers a small region. I cover Greenwich, Brunswick, and anyone else without hesitation.

And I love it.

Year 26 of play-by-play (not counting the corporate softball days).

Let's get started.

(And West Haven's AD just told me I'd get the roster at the field. So, yeah.)

Oops, I Almost Forgot

 

I'm too focused on this (West Haven High School)

It's almost 10 p.m. here in Greenwich.

Let's see, I've been out and about, came back home, hosted "Doubleheader," edited and reviewed the Greenwich football roster (I'm still waiting on West Haven's), created and edited music for the broadcast, watched baseball, and have done myriad other things.

I'll spare you the drama. I was editing "Hanratty's Huddle" just now when I suddenly remembered that I hadn't written yet.

I suppose that's indicative of how focused I am on tomorrow.

I have to record a podcast for Hunt Scanlon and that will get my full attention. So will my preparation for next week's conference in New York.

Beyond that, I'm all about West Haven/Greenwich.

As I said, I have Greenwich's roster, and that means creating a new Excel file where I keep as many as I can as the season goes along. There were nearly 50 tabs from the last file, which is hardly the total number of games I called in the past year. I acquire them in a variety of fashions and I edit them to my style.

Thus, I started the 24-25 file tonight.

Copying Greenwich's roster from the PDF that was sent to me to an Excel sheet is easier said than done. But that's OK, as it means I have to drill down and pay extra attention to the details. It also helps to learn the names.

That's how my rosters used to be created. I'd get them faxed to me and I'd diligently type them up.

Now they're emailed or I find them via one of a couple of websites.

If I haven't said it already (I know I have) I don't have West Haven's yet.

I'll always need help understanding schools and rosters. It shouldn't be such an involved process to get them but it is. 

It's frankly the very lifeblood of what I do as a play-by-play announcer.

I'll strive for perfection tomorrow but this isn't my first rodeo. There is simply bound to be something wrong. It could be the music or something technical or the roster. Obviously, I can only do so much about it.

I'll be on the road early to make sure I'm ready for the battle with traffic.

But if it all goes right, Dan and I will be on the air from West Haven.

And, finally, it will be time to get back to calling games.

Don't worry.

I won't forget.

Honor Has Different Emotions

 

There are two entirely different thoughts in this post but honor is the theme.

To start, it is always an honor but it's wrong to say it.

But, stay with me, and I think it will make sense.

I anchored WGCH's coverage of the Sept 11 memorial ceremony at Cos Cob Park this morning. Sean joined me on his own doing and I was really proud of that.

Honestly, he just wanted to be there. He didn't even expect to be on the air but I had him co-anchor with me. I realize he didn't live through that day but I felt he would have an interesting perspective as someone who has seen it through the eyes of history.

The thing I mentioned and I said so a few times on the air was that nobody actively wanted to be there this morning. We'd all like to go back to 2001 and not have that experience. 

Of course, that's not how it works and thus it's an honor to be asked to anchor coverage of something that I think is really important.

It's been 23 years and it's still emotional. I still watch the footage and listen to the coverage. I spend time reliving it again and again.

I wish -- truly, truly, truly wish -- that we still had audio from WGCH but our archive up until the mid-2000s is pretty woeful, save for things I've collected. I have audio of the show I co-hosted on Sep 12, 2001 but that's it. None of the work of Jim Thompson, Dima Joseph, John Iannuzzi, and the other very talented hosts on WGCH that day exists. 

I was there that morning but never got on the air. There was honestly no need for me to do so and, by 10 a.m. we had switched over to using a network news feed. I think we were a CNN affiliate at the time.

So, as I said, I wasn't on the air until I co-hosted Tee Time with Michael Breed on the night of the 12th.

I've written so many thoughts down since that day and you can find them all here on the blog in the archive. At this point, I wish we could act like we did on Sep 12 that year but sadly it appears that time has passed. We're too divided.

Heck, I don't even remember the same way anymore. I had a tradition of what I played every year on Sep 11 but time changes people and I just don't want to hear the music I used to play.

The focus, as always, must be on the nearly 3,000 lives lost that day in Shanksville PA, as well as at the Pentagon, and the World Trade Center. The number, of course, is much higher due to the loss of people since then thanks to air quality-related disease.

And the loss of innocence. We all lost someone or something that day, and time has certainly taught me that.

We'll never forget. I never will and, I'm proud to say, that my son will make sure to never forget.

*****

Staying with the theme of being honored, please excuse the awkward transition. I wanted to mention that I enjoyed what was probably my finest moment as a public address announcer last night.

I've watched so many sporting events. I've watched countless starting lineup introductions.

In fact, I get angry when those introductions are not broadcast. 

Last night, the Renegades played Game 1 of the North Division Championship against the Greensboro Grasshoppers. It was decided that both teams would be introduced on the field before the game, just as you'd see in a playoff game or on Opening Day in MLB.

For whatever reason, the duty didn't fall to Fish on the field, who would have done an excellent job. I got the honor.

I'll add this: I think Fish and I would have been great together, introducing both teams on the field. We would have had the place in a frenzy.

It was overwhelming, knowing that I was introducing some 60 people between the two squads. Pronunciations and accuracy were paramount. In fact, we jumped the gun initially before it was actually time to start.

I read slowly but moved quickly between people, ensuring I enunciated every name.

As I completed introducing the Grasshoppers, I remembered that it was OK to ramp things up a little higher for the Renegades. My dogged nature to not be a homer could actually take a back seat.

I enjoyed saying that the Gades are "the High A affiliate of the 27-time World Champion New York Yankees."

And I gave a little zest to introducing each coach and player before beginning the starting lineup. Suddenly, I heard a roar from the over 4,000 in attendance at Heritage Financial Park. I also felt my face get red, beaming with a hint of pride.

Leading OFF, the second basement, number two, Roc ... REEEE-ZHEE-OHH!

Oh, damn, this was great. A wave of emotion rolled over me. 

Clicks had the music pumping, Anthony made it look great on the video board, and Tom stayed out of the way. Yes, I could hear the chaos over the walkie-talkie and I won't deny that was distracting but I worked around it. Too many cooks were stirring the stew and I'd be damned if anyone was going to screw this up.

And it all aired on the broadcast. Remember, that's also a family affair with Sean on camera.

One thing I didn't do was look at the field. I found myself in a zone with the paperwork of the hastily arranged rosters.

The Gades won the game, ultimately cruising to a 6-0 conquest. If they win tomorrow in Greensboro, they'll come home next week for the South Atlantic League Championship. They'll have to play a third game for me to be back on the mic.

It's possible that last night was my finale and, if it was, what a way to go out.

But I'll walk away with my head held high and perhaps my most enjoyable moment.

We'll wait before truly assessing everything otherwise.

Active and Creative

 

I can't juggle (Inc.com)

It's a good, busy day here.

I have a few minutes between meetings today. 

It's good to be active again.

I've already been to Hunt Scanlon for the script read. A conference awaits in New York next month.

Then one in San Francisco in October.

Then another one in New York in November.

I came home long enough to throw together egg and cheese sandwiches. We had rolls and eggs here so I decided to play chef with my limited skills.

Now, I'm readying for an upcoming meeting.

Ideas are flying around and, as often happens with me, there's promise. Now, I hope for action.

Hope. As always, it's so dangerous.

I enjoy the activity of the various opportunities but it's truly a base I want. If you haven't noticed, the idea of "home" has been a frequent theme here. 

I'd like some stability. I love chaos but I'm more into organization first.

Then I can riff off of that.

So I'll go to this meeting before likely coming back home.

Then, it's Game 1 for the Renegades and Greensboro Grasshoppers tonight at Heritage Financial Park. Two wins will put the Gades into the South Atlantic League championship.

Tomorrow morning opens with the Sep 11 memorial ceremony at Cos Cob Park. Join me live on WGCH around 8:40 a.m.

I have more work after that.

Thursday will include a podcast recording for Hunt Scanlon.

Friday is football.

I need this.

It's a grind. That's the best part. Creating opportunities and working hard to make things happen.

There's a true feeling of gratitude after working like this. Everything feels earned and it's very rewarding.

It's just that I need -- let me make this clear: NEED -- more of it.

But today's a good start.

And now let's get on a roll.

*****

I remember parts of Sep 10, 2001. The Yankees getting rained out, etc.

Obviously, I'll never forget the events of the following day.

It's Sep 12th that I'd like to see us all go back to, if only for how kind, helpful, and patient we were.

We were united.

That would be nice to feel again.

Prepping Patiently

 

It's not your night, Aaron

I'm ready.

Honestly, I could call the game now.

Greenwich plays at West Haven on Friday night and I've already secured space in the booth and know what time I'm leaving (Hint: early).

Dan and I have already watched the Cardinals in a scrimmage so that homework has been done.

I've checked the team previews to learn a few of the names that will likely stand out.

The only thing missing is the rosters and, if you know me, we can even get around that. Trust me, I don't want that. I've asked both schools for rosters but I know how opening week works.

I've checked the CIAC website and West Haven has an incomplete roster. Greenwich's is in worse shape than that.

It's Monday. I'm honestly not worried.

I have a few storylines that we'll hit on in the pregame. I'd love to have more and, to that end, I've reached out for more, but nothing has come yet.

That's just how it goes. The broadcast can't hinge on that.

It's fun to mine for these things. It's fun detective work but it's not perfect.

In a perfect world, we would have more access, but we don't, despite our efforts. Chris Erway and I tried to improve that for years. In some seasons we got closer than others.

That's where the parents become so important for us. That's where those tailgates are great because we are able to talk to people there. Sometimes, it's just standing on the field before the game. You see things. You hear things.

Dan and I will do our best to tell the story.

What means a lot -- a lot -- is to hear people say they're happy we're back to cover the games. Even the body language says something. It means there's a comfort level with us. 

It's a rewarding feeling.

This all doesn't just go for Greenwich. It's for Brunswick and anyone else. I won't get to see the Bruins this Friday but I'll hit the road for their week two matchup at Salisbury. 

Things have been quiet in Brunswick land but I'm hoping that will change sooner rather than later. I need their roster also and anything else.

But, trust me, I'm ready.

You likely won't see me showing up with a lot of notes. I'll have the equipment. I'll have a partner.

That doesn't mean I'll be unprepared. It's just that I retain things. I have a computer and a phone with me to fill in any blanks.

This isn't my first rodeo. Others need notes, charts, graphs, and colored pens. Great. That's what works for them. 

This is what works for me.

Once upon a time, I referred to someone as a "prep snob" and it rattled him. Eventually it turned, well, toxic. I apologize but I will note that it was mostly a joke. I mean, I've called friends "beer snobs," "deli snobs," "pizza snobs," and so on. None of it is serious.

Heck, I've been called a snob on various things. Your mileage may vary on all of it.

That being said, when you refer to people who don't prepare for a broadcast like you as "lazy," then what do you expect to be called?

And, admittedly, that topic is a sensitive one for me.

Oh, I'm prepared.

I'm ready.

But we have to wait until Friday.

So there are still four days to get the rosters.

Season's Over

 

It was right around 4:30 when the final out had been recorded.

The Hudson Valley Renegades finished a win against the Asheville Tourists to bring their record to 73-58.

With that, the regular season came to an end.

In some ways, there were goodbyes to say as some of the crew working today won't be back for the playoffs. Even then, the playoffs are fleeting, as much as we'll try to enjoy every second of them.

The Renegades will host three playoff games if they make it to the championship. I'm scheduled to work two of the three.

If not, then my last scheduled game is this Tuesday night when the Gades host the Greensboro Grasshoppers in Game 1 of the Division Championship

A weekend like this can be looser because it's the end. Guards get let down and personalities get silly. Alternatively, things can be tight and that leads to tension.

In our case, it was the former.

We had fun.

Even with a rain delay on Saturday, we passed the time by laughing.

It's baseball. It's supposed to be fun.

A gaggle of us gathered in the parking lot after the game to blow off some steam and celebrate the completion of the regular season.

To that end, we told stories, reflected, and laughed. We acknowledged mistakes and triumphs. 

We talked about how it could have been better and what we could do to improve it.

We guessed about the future.

I'm not quite ready for the full requiem just yet. I'll wait until it's all over before I fully assess what I thought of everything.

That, honestly, includes what I think of myself as a public address announcer as I complete my third season.

For tonight, it's best to not overthink things and turn my attention towards football and other commitments this week.

Too many holes remain but I'm hopeful they will soon work themselves out. Settling into the grind of the fall would be the best thing.

In fact, the chill in the air lately speaks of that. It will warm back up later in the week but for now, it's a chilly night. I threw a sweater on to write this post.

And I should add a few more things as I wrap up.

I'm thrilled that the Steelers won though I'm not thrilled with the offensive inefficiency. Though, frankly, I'm not surprised.

I did not hear much of Tom Brady's debut on FOX today. I heard and saw some awkward stuff but I don't think it would be fair for me to judge him. I've read a lot of negative stuff and I'll wait to read reviews from people I respect.

But most importantly, I have not been waiting all day for Sunday night.

The Waiting Game

 

I don't think the heavy stuff is gonna come for a while

We're off to Heritage Financial Park shortly for the Renegades/Tourists game. It's the penultimate game of the 2024 regular season.

It's also supposed to rain.

That's a dirty word in the baseball business but so it goes.

I'm still home, pulling things together for football next week.

So, yeah, it's sort of quiet.

And, with possible rain on the way, it can be a day of a lot of time on our hands.

Passing the time during a rain delay can be an art form. On the air, there are a few options that could be at one's disposal. The easiest thing is to send it back to the studio and have them go to regular programming. At WGCH, that often means returning to their network programs, which we've done during delays at the Greenwich Town Party and other events.

The other option is to play something in our archive. When we had an issue of not getting the audio feed at this year's Town Party, Bob Small played an episode of "Meet the Beatles," which I found appropriate.

The other option is to stay on-site at the game and fill. I remember us going into a talk show when we had a rain delay at a Bridgeport Bluefish game. That would have likely been in 2002. So we sat down in the booth and filled by talking sports.

I also remember delays at the Babe Ruth New England Regional in Stamford. In that case, I actually played a portion of a previous game broadcast to fill time. You do what you have to do.

In the PA booth, the first thing I suppose is to stay dry. From there, the goal is to not go out of our minds. We look at our phones, talk, maybe walk to the concession stand and get food, use the restroom, talk some more, and generally make fun of everyone.

Humor. As always.

There's also a large amount of watching the body language of everyone involved. If we see the umpires appear and talk with team officials, we're glued to that. We're monitoring channels on social media, and the weather radar, and waiting for news to announce to the crowd, if I'm allowed to do so.

Obviously, we're waiting to hear if we're going to work or go home.

Also within all of this is keeping the fans engaged. Some have questions, assuming we know the answers to the situation (we do not) and others just want to talk to us.

But it's all part of the job. We're on duty basically as soon as we get to the ballpark and customer service is very much a part of that. We represent the team. That matters.

So we'll see how it plays out. The weather appears to be a bit spotty. Definitely gray and cooler.

I know the Renegades will make every effort to play. They always do.

And we'll be there.

Let Me Explain

 

Facebook

I posted something on my social media accounts tonight that probably raised questions.

Whether you saw it or not, I figured I should tell the story.

This was probably around 2015 or so. I was working at HAN, or the HAN Network.

Or HAN Radio.

And there was at least one person -- well-placed -- who was out for me. I'm telling you, I could literally do nothing right. Every chance there was to throw me under a bus -- to the point of nearly losing my job -- was taken.

The goal was to make me miserable.

This one was perhaps the height of stupidity.

New Canaan High School has a nice turf field facility on its campus. It's where the Rams play football, soccer, field hockey, lacrosse, and so on. I've called many events there between HAN and WGCH.

However, one thing to note is that when events were loaded onto the CIAC website, the facility was called Dunning Stadium. I don't know if my brain is failing me, but I remember the annual previews also listing it as Dunning Stadium in the newspaper.

So if you look in my archive, that's what I called it.

However, as the years went on, there was the Stadium/Field thing, and it was something that carried onto the HAN broadcasts.

I'd call it Dunning Field/Stadium/Whatever. Heck, we were always so impressed by it that we joked that maybe they would put a roof over it and call it the Dunning Dome. No harm was literally ever intended. 

Consider the myriad changes at Cardinal Stadium since 1999. I've likely made similar comments.

Well, the thorn in my side decided it wasn't funny. Scholars one day might examine further and find there were more nefarious factors at play but let's keep the story to face value.

Plus, I'm leaving all names out of this -- except my own -- to protect the innocent.

Anyway, while driving home one evening, I glanced at my email to discover an email from, you guessed it, that person.

The tone was, honestly, harsh and obnoxious. 

The content of the email made it clear that he wanted it called Dunning FIELD and that the Dunning family would take offense to how I was handling it.

No one else got lambasted like this. Only me.

Honestly, if the Dunning family cared that much, I'd be concerned. Their name was always mentioned and never sullied. 

Normally, such an email would rattle me but this just reeked of, well, something.

Oh, it annoyed me, but it also amused me.

And befuddled me.

It also served as one of many indications that I'd need to leave HAN sadly.

And that was sad. I'm profoundly proud of it, what we all created, and the work we did.

While I look back with enormous pride, I still marvel at some of the insanity of it all.

Like this.

Look, this person attacked me several times -- online, in person, and behind my back. I came out of it a better man and broadcaster.

And it was nice to sit at Dunning Field at Hawes Plaza tonight to watch Greenwich and New Canaan in a scrimmage.

I've called it Dunning Field at Hawes Plaza ever since that night.

But, for the record, here is how it is listed on the CIAC website today.

"Stadium"

Anyway, Dan Murphy and I watched the game together. We caught up with friends and did our homework to get ready for next Friday.

In West Haven.

From Ken Strong Stadium.

Not Field.

Playoff Fever

 

The Hudson Valley Renegades celebrate

I'll cut to the chase.

Last night was one of the most fun experiences I've ever had on a baseball field.

I've experienced walk-off hits, have scored a championship-winning run, and have broadcast myriad big moments, but have never joined in a celebration at a professional level.

You know me. I eschew being a part of many things that I think belong to the team. By "team," it's a bigger term in that there are the players, coaches, and, in the case of the Renegades, the front office. 

As a broadcaster (which I'm not for the Renegades) I tend to back off, with the exception of congratulating everyone. I've certainly done that on many occasions with the teams I've covered.

Last night, the Renegades clinched a playoff spot. The needed to win their own game and then wait for the result of another one. The Gades did their part, beating the Asheville Tourists* 3-0. They needed the Jersey Shore BlueClaws to beat the Aberdeen IronBirds.

*If the Asheville Tourists remind you of the movie Bull Durham, well then pat yourself on the back! 

I handled the public address announcing and we had a really nice, fun night in the PA booth. The game was over, and there was still the postgame tennis ball toss to be played, so the game between the Aberdeen and Jersey Shore was put on the video board in left field. Jersey Shore held a 3-1 lead as we started watching.

Up in the booth, Jason, Clicks, Tom, and I were joined by Anthony, Murph, Jason (Stapf), Devin, Fred, and ... oh, yeah ... Sean.

Faces came in and out but that's the crew that I remember.

As Fish hosted the tennis ball toss, we watched him complete the evening.

At that point, we glanced at the Aberdeen/Jersey Shore game, which was in the 7th inning. The lead had been cut to 3-2.

"I can listen to it in the car if I want," I said. The drive home can be a drag.

But I also glanced back down to the field. Fish was joined by members of the front office as well as the players, who were throwing a football around in the outfield.

"Guys," I offered. "I'm going down to the field."

Fish, in front, took selfies of the crew.

Pretty much everyone came down. Admittedly, when you have a group of full-timers, which the front office is, and the part-timers join in, which we are, it can feel like the Sharks and the Jets.

Snap! Snap! Snap!

OK, maybe that's extreme but there is sometimes a divide, though not by design. It just happens.

But no one seemed to mind as Jersey Shore tacked on to their lead. Heading into the bottom of the ninth, the BlueClaws were up 6-2.

The mood was jovial as cameras began to record it all.

The players stopped tossing the football as the last of the ninth began. The front office staff began to move to the outfield to watch on the board.

"Come on guys."

We know we're the gameday people. Our involvement is different. But we're still all a small part of the journey. In my mind, I wanted to stand closer and watch the Renegades lock up another playoff appearance. This is what everyone works for.

Three outs remained.

Well, it wasn't all that dramatic. A ground out and swinging strikeout opened the inning.

One out to go.

Ryan Stafford of Aberdeen took a called strike three from Paxton Thompson of Jersey Shore and the Renegades ticket was officially punched.

FINAL

Cameras recorded the players hugging in the outfield, safe in the knowledge that more baseball awaits next week. The chance of a title is official.

We watched as the players then hustled off the field, beyond the outfield fence.

We took it all in, somewhat unsure what to do. Should we leave? The last thing I want to do is overstay my welcome or overstep my boundaries.

Then a roar went up as we watched champagne fly beyond the outfield fence The players were bathing in the moment of bubbly.

I watched the Greensboro Grasshoppers do the same thing when they clinched a playoff spot in 2021. They celebrated down the right field line as the Gades' playoff hopes died. The postseason that year was a smaller format and the Renegades -- the 2021 North Division champions -- weren't included.

Last night, it was different.

Thanks to Clicks for this

Soon, we were invited to have our own celebration and join our front-office colleagues and friends. General manager Zach Betkowski gave a brief speech, capped by imploring the pursuit of a championship ring.

Then, for the first time ever, I was part of a champagne explosion. Fish took aim at me with a bottle as I opened mine up.

For the record, Fish got more champagne on Sean than on me, but it's all friendly fire at that point.

More pictures were taken, including by the team photographer, who gathered us all up for a shot. We thanked him and he told us we deserved it, as he sees all of us on the top level at every game.

I talked with people for a bit and kind of just watched everyone enjoy the moment, mindful that it's only one step toward a championship. For the Renegades, there's more work to be done.

Sean and I stepped away as the celebration continued. We waved to Clicks and Fish and made our way out via the right field corner.

It was nice to be a part of it all. I'll treasure it.

The Renegades play again tonight before finishing the regular season this weekend. I'm working both Saturday and Sunday and then I hope to be involved in the postseason games beginning next week.

Get your tickets and go support the team!

September Mourn

Two weeks to the day before she passed. The clock was ticking.

 

The details of Sept 4, 2020, will live in my mind forever.

Most of the details of Sept 3 will as well.

I'd taken Mom to two appointments on the 3rd, with the second one being a cardiologist. She'd received news that her heart was failing.

According to her as we talked in the car, she said it could be six months or who knows.

I think, in truth, she was ready.

In reality, the doctor said it was a lot less than that. She was gone the next morning.

Four years ago today.

My parents are with me every day and I feel blessed to have had Mom until she was 83, as opposed to Dad dying at 59.

The last years of her life weren't easy. My sister and I tended to be her plus one for events. Laura took her to the weddings and showers while I took her to the parties and picnics.

Of course, she also had grandchildren who were also available. They were all there for her. I'm so glad that she and Sean were so close.

To that end, he and I laugh about her all the time. There are frequent jokes that only we get and she would laugh at.

It helps to have a bit of a dark sense of humor.

So there's no question I'm thinking of her today and trying to not think about the events of that morning.

The call to 911. The EMT arriving. The police. The phone calls. The texts.

The waiting.

Knowing that she was gone and wanting to tell the 911 operator that but carrying on as she was giving me CPR instructions. I couldn't give up but, at the same time, there was the reality to consider.

Remaining calm and keeping emotion out of it all.

The waiting (yes, there was a lot of that).

Finally, the news I expected, was given by the EMT, who assured me it wasn't COVID-related. I knew clear as could be that it was her heart. 

Then more waiting for the funeral home.

Offering the police a drink.

Being advised to not go back to the living room. That bothered me a lot.

Generally not going into the house at all. Just standing at the top of the driveway and making phone calls.

Then standing, almost at attention, as she was brought out. I had to be there for that, even after the funeral director suggested I walk away. 

No. I couldn't. I had to be there for Mom.

Oh, there was more to the day. The phone calls -- some so much harder than others.

And the one I didn't make. Couldn't make.

Sean. That had to happen in person when I picked him up at his mother's house. I remain happy he wasn't at the house for any of it.

Then helping him call his grandparents.

Then a long, lonely, drive from Hopewell Jct, NY to Bridgeport, CT. 

In shock.

If I had anything on the radio, I think it was banal sports talk that I wasn't paying attention to.

Finally, eating, at Jersey Mike's in Fairfield before getting to Bridgeport to call a baseball game. Yes, I was going to work, dammit. Everyone felt I should. I felt confident Mom would want me to honor the commitment. It was bad enough that I wouldn't make a game the evening of her funeral.

At that point, nothing had been said publicly. Then I discovered my aunt wrote something online, so I quickly posted a picture of her and a few words to let people know. We were trying to make sure everyone of importance knew before we made a statement but it was too late.

Then I spoke during the game. I wanted to say something quick to make sure Nick Castellanos didn't "make it a 4-0 ballgame."

Then listeners -- friends -- coming by to express sympathy.

And Paul Silverfarb and Shawn Sailer wanting to take me out for a few minutes postgame. Also, the reality that I had to return to Mahopac. To her house.

That, fortunately, would wait until the next day.

I wound up with family in Bridgeport to have a late dinner and just talk for a bit. That's where I finally got to see my sister. I'd spend a sleepless night on her floor.

Hell, as it turns out, was just beginning for us. This was only the first phase of the storm.

But, while sitting there, a cat came over to try to get my chicken parm. A cute animal named Binx. He was offered to me.

"I'm serious," my niece's husband Eric said. We'd lose Eric roughly six months later. 

A little over a week later, Binx came with me to Mahopac.

His name is Rascal Squeaky Beast now.

A ray of light out of a bad day.

Someone to keep me company and whenever you want to say I'm a crazy cat person, remember why he came into our lives.

Mom, we think of you every day. We were your "partners in crime." We both have so many memories. So much travel. So many stories.

We love telling them.

We miss you.

We have to work tonight.

Don't worry. We'll honor the commitment.

Countdown to Kickoff 2024

 

Ken Strong Stadium, West Haven
Site of the first football broadcast of 2024

Ten days to go.

Greenwich and Brunswick are both getting ready to kick off the 2024 season.

And, for me, it means getting back to work in the booth.

If I have any gripe, it's that there were plenty of football games last weekend and I sat at home. So it goes.

It's amazing, Greenwich High is so close that I could almost walk to Cardinal Stadium from home. There is, of course, Putnam Hill here in Greenwich to consider as well as equipment that needs to be carried.

Then again, it's not a short walk from where I park at GHS to the Cardinal Stadium booth.

Back in the stone age -- 2000, to be exact -- there were two parking spots for WGCH to use. One was for the engineer and equipment and the other was for the rest of the crew.

Soon, an engineer didn't go with us so it was usually just me. I became my own engineer on-site.

But, as you know, things have changed quite a bit at Cardinal Stadium. The new bleachers, the new booth level, and so on.

And a row of food trucks is generally where I would have parked.

So I don't complain and park where I can. 

I have a hand cart I can utilize for the walk that I'll load the equipment in and I'll use the elevator to get up top.

I opened up all of my equipment cases yesterday, sorted everything out, and created multiple setups if necessary.

I think I counted a potential five setups.

Of course, I'll probably just use WGCH's equipment but I'll likely bring some of mine anyway. I'll use my Zoom Podtrak P4 when I need to save space. Otherwise, I have a Podtrak P8 from WGCH at my disposal and it works very well.

In fact, I don't know that I can see any space concerns this season but I can't predict booth space.

Everything is packed into the car so I'm ready right now.

My first scorecard is set as Dan Murphy and I prepare to take a stab at keeping stats. Traditionally, we had a GHS student join our team for stats, while other years had a live scoring system. Both of those options have dried up, so we'll try doing it ourselves.

At the very least, I want to keep track of drives, so I modified something I found online and will work with that. Last year, I actually downloaded a program to keep stats, and, well, the game moves fast. I never used what I downloaded.

Of course, then again, allow me to present the thoughts of one Mr. Vincent E. Scully.

"Statistics are used much like a drunk uses a lamppost: for support, not illumination."

True dat.

The point is statistics are lovely but they have never been at the forefront of any broadcast of mine. Oh, sure, I utilize them as available but it can be dangerous in my opinion to go overboard. Simply having stats doesn't mean they have to be used and, as alluded to by Vin, they can be a crutch.

I'm a storyteller.

However, I think stats will come in handy for us if we have them.

Ten days out, I'm excited and confident.

I've always believed in our ability to put on the best broadcast that we can. That's not to say it's a competition with anyone else. As I've said, I have a standard that I expect us to achieve and I'm ready to do that again.

As for the noise at the end of last year, I consider that long in the past.

This is a new year. 

New captains. New playmakers.

Same standard from the teams I cover and from the teams I work for.

Ten days.

Still Here

 

Calling a Renegades game, Brooklyn, 2009

It was just after 6 a.m. on Sunday, Sep 2, 1990.

I couldn't wait to go home.

I maneuvered down the rutted driveway back to NY Route 292. The route numbers would evolve past the houses and farms and shopping centers.

311. 52. 6. 6N.

Then home.

I'd sleep. Sure I would! It was nearly 7 a.m. I'd been up for quite a while. I had to sleep!

And I barely slept.

I had just completed my first shift as an air talent.

A DJ.

On the radio.

My broadcasting career had begun.

I had been hired to host a Sunday overnight shift that would go from midnight-6 a.m. on WMJV in Patterson, NY. 

It was initially suggested that I drink a ton of coffee and, oh hey, try some NoDoz as well.

Kids, I don't suggest this. Ever.

But I did as told and then felt like my heart was going to leap from my chest and back into my car to participate in a triathlon.

The shift was exhilarating enough. I'd trained with someone the previous week -- someone who didn't know I was coming -- and I felt good. Newsflash, that person and I became close friends.

Then I took over from the person who was on the air before me. A different person. Further newsflash, that person liked me and, then, not so much. Ah, radio politics, friends. I just looked and apparently, he's still in business in the area. Somehow, he and I have not crossed paths in over 30 years. That's just fine with me.

After dealing with some butterflies, I convinced myself to turn the mic on and talk.

And here we are. It's been 34 years and I've worked in broadcasting for nearly all of them.

WMJV/Majic 105 wasn't my goal. Oh, I could have been happy playing music and getting paid to do that. I would have been happy with some witty banter and tunes. But we all know working in sports was the goal. Heck, I was doing a sports report every Sunday morning not long after I started at Majic.

But that shift could be tough. Sometimes, the only listeners I felt like I had was the staff at Harlem Valley State Hospital, a psychiatric hospital colloquially known as Wingdale for the hamlet it was located in.

The building was back in the woods and it was creepy. Radio, especially in the dead of night, can be like that.

Friends and family would listen for maybe the first hour. I'd also have some high school kids and other locals who checked in. By 3 a.m. it was very quiet. Those were the toughest hours to stay awake and, yes, I might have a cup of coffee around then.

I might also put on "Hotel California" or "American Pie" and zone out. The format wasn't that tight so I didn't have to adhere as closely to the program log. I followed it but I could deviate a bit and, as a break was needed, a longer song was the way to go.

Eventually, my cousin Ron would listen in as he was delivering newspapers.

Finally, my replacement would come in after 5 a.m. But as we got friendlier, we'd get to talking and I wouldn't leave until after 7 a.m.

It was fun and I was there for just about a year before I got eaten up by the politics. Lesson learned. Sort of.

If you're not playing in the cool kids' clique, you're disposable. I've seen it too many times.

I licked my wounds, moved on, and eventually made it to WREF.

Then to WGCH.

And on and on and on.

You wind up on many outlets during a broadcasting career. In this era, you sometimes create your own outlet.

For the haters, sure, I had my own delusions of grandeur when I was 20. I had high hopes for what I could achieve. I didn't get there. Enjoy.

However, I'd also say I've achieved a lot and am proud of what I've done. And I tried to make each one of those events sound like the biggest deal possible.

Thus the GYFL will always sound like the Super Bowl. Little League and Babe Ruth Baseball will be the World Series.

I've covered election nights and breaking news and anchored the news and hosted so many programs and done the Greenwich Town Party and I honestly can't remember everything.

I tried to figure out how many appearances I've made on the air, be it terrestrial, online or otherwise. Audio and video. Oh yeah, and podcasts.

Video has tried to kill this radio (non-)star but hasn't succeeded.

I used to keep a list of every time I was on the air but I stopped a bunch of years ago. Maybe it's 5,000? 10,000? I'm really not sure.

But I've honored and respected my craft as I've continued to learn and grow while passing my knowledge on.

The business of broadcasting has enthralled me and enriched me. It has also tried to destroy me at times, or I try to destroy myself.

I accept the blame, I suppose.

And I've had a few battles over the years. I'm not proud of that but I'm proud of standing up for what (and who) I believe in.

I have no tolerance for phonies or nonsense.

Maybe I've made it to 34 hours in spite of myself. I don't know.

There will be no on-air appearances today and that's fine.

I thank you for supporting this wonderful experience of mine.

Stay tuned for more.

I hope.

Thanks for listening.