Pete

 

On a day when baseball had an absolutely compelling game that fans will talk about for years, the game has been rocked by some news.

First, the game. The Mets won game one of a doubleheader today in Atlanta in epic fashion. They rallied from down 3-0 to take the lead on the Braves. The lead swung back to Atlanta before Francisco Lindor hit a two-run homer in the ninth inning.

The Mets advanced to the playoffs where they'll have the Milwaukee Brewers. I congratulate the rational Mets fans whom I enjoy talking baseball with. The Braves won the second game and they've advanced to the playoffs against San Diego. The Arizona Diamondbacks -- the defending National League champion -- were eliminated.

However, the baseball world's eyes are distracted.

Within the last hour, news broke that Pete Rose -- undisputedly, the game's career-hit leader -- has died at the age of 83.

Where do we start?

As I considered the shock of the news and Pete's life, I began to try to explain him to Sean. We had taken a nice long walk around Greenwich, in part because we needed to mail a rent check (longer story there).

Sean knew he was a great player but didn't know the key takeaways.

- Hits leader (4,256). Also most games played, pate appearances, and at bats

- Played the game with an energy that one should aspire to.

- Had a way of getting under opponents with his style (see: Mets, Bud Harrelson)

- 1963 Rookie of the Year

- 1973 National League MVP

- Three-time World Champion (1975, 1976, 1980)

- 17-time All-Star

- Member of the All-Century Team

- 24-year career with his hometown Reds plus the Phillies and Expos

But...and I realize this is speaking ill of the dead on the day he died but that's how complicated his is...

- Gamebled on baseball. Gambled on his team. It's not unfair to say he was a degenerate gambler with a bad habit.

- More to the point, he lied about his gambling. Frequently.

- It took years for him to come clean and admit that he did, indeed, bet on baseball.

- Also had troubles with money laundering and tax evasion.

- More troubling was the accusation that Rose had a sexual relationship with an underage girl beginning in 1973. The girl was 14 or 15 at the time but Rose believed she was 16, which was legal age in Ohio. However you stack it, it's morally reprehensible at the very least.

So, as I add things up, I can't help thinking that Pete Rose might have the most complicated legacy of any athlete. Maybe ever.

I'm sure someone will tell me another name and I'm not even here to say they'd be wrong. 

Some of the faces of the 1970s:
Amos Otis, Willie Stargell, Bobby Murcer, Pete Rose

Rose, on the field, was fire and brimstone. Anything but a classic athlete, he existed almost purely to prove to everyone that he belonged. He wasn't a power hitter, cranking only 160 home runs, but he could hit, finishing with a career .303 batting average. His career high was .348 in 1969. 

Plus he was durable despite a style that was pure reckless abandon. He didn't just throw his body around. He lunged everywhere. He was constant energy at home plate and in the field.

But character -- the bugaboo of a place called the Hall of Fame -- was one of Pete's downfalls. On literally any account, he was a slam dunk Hall of Famer, minus the pesky character clause.

The gambling was bad. Very bad. A death sentence in terms of baseball. 

Quite obviously, statutory rape accusations are beyond the pall. I hope that's clear.

Barreling into third base during the 1976 World Series

Let's get right to it. On the field, he was a Hall of Fame player. If that was how we were to judge him, he would have strolled into Cooperstown years ago.

But the gambling is a non-starter, as he was banned from baseball in 1989. He was placed on the permanently ineligible list, which meant he could not hold a job within Major League Baseball. The Hall of Fame voted to ban those on that list in 1991, meaning Rose couldn't be elected.

He applied several times for reinstatement but was denied each time. It seemed clear that, at best, Pete Rose would not make the Hall of Fame while he was still alive.

The thing about Pete was that every time he took a step forward, he took steps back. I thought, for instance, he was very good on TV, working for FOX and MLB allowed him to do that. He was also allowed, on a few occasions, to be honored or be a part of groups honored in Cincinnati and Philadelphia, as well as the All-Century Team in 1999 in Atlanta.

He was otherwise not allowed to be in locker rooms or on the field.

But now the debate will fire up again about Pete Rose and the Hall of Fame. I'll remain as consistent as I have been forever.

Pete Rose belongs in the Hall of Fame. 

So does "Shoeless" Joe Jackson.

And others (Bonds, Clemens, etc). 

The story of the game of baseball and the greats who we loved watching -- whether we liked them or not -- is incomplete without these players having their rightful place.

It's hypocritical. Don't tell me I can see Pete's uniform, etc in the museum. That's not what we're talking about. He belongs in the gallery. He deserves a plaque. 

He deserves to let me, as a fan, tell his story to those who visit with me. 

He deserves to have a plaque that says he was the hit leader, had an unstoppable energy, and was banned from baseball for gambling. 

I always said honesty was the best way to go. Don't honor him by allowing him to give a speech. Give the facts of him on his plaque.

Well, Pete Rose has died so he won't give a speech. Nor will Shoeless Joe, who died in 1951.

Athletes aren't Boy Scouts and it's unrealistic to think so. We know Babe Ruth was flawed. So was Mickey Mantle. So was Ty Cobb. So were a lot of others. Only the likes of Lou Gehrig and Stan Musial were close to being something considered innocent.

Hell, even Kirby Puckett -- once considered a paragon of goodness -- turned out to not be an innocent man off the field. Kirby is still rightly beloved in Minnesota and around the baseball world, but his story isn't so cut and dried.

Fans should have the right to assess Pete Rose on their own in Cooperstown. 

Look, I was never a fan of the man. I've been wrestling with how to discuss him for a while now.

But there's no question he was a Hall of Fame baseball player.

He was anything but a Hall of Fame man.

Again, congratulations to Mets fans. I fulfilled Chris Hunt's request that I write about it tonight.

Let the playoffs begin.

Games Over ... Almost

 

The Yankees just finished a 6-4 win over the Pittsburgh Pirates.

The Bombers finished the year with 94 wins. They have the best record in the American League and the third-best record in all of baseball.

Hard to believe that this team, which was considered to be such a bust at one point, heads into the postseason in this shape. They watched their lead in the American League East whittle to nothing and saw the Baltimore Orioles briefly overtake them.

And then? The Orioles had their own struggles and the Yankees did just enough.

The Yankees won the division and are the top seed in the AL.

I mean, in Yankees Universe, fifteen years between rings is considered bad. I know it's an entitled attitude but so I have no further answer for it. The hunger to win doesn't stop.

Sadly, short of winning the World Series (or even if they do win it), Aaron Boone and Brian Cashman will still hear calls for their jobs from the fanbase.

I'm not among those voices. 

I can't wait to see how Juan Soto, Anthony Volpe, Jazz Chisholm Jr and others perform for the first time under the October lights in New York.

Ah, but the baseball regular season is not finished yet. 

The Atlanta Braves will host a lovable collection of scamps tomorrow featuring humor, whimsy, and joy. They'll play a doubleheader to finish the season for the right to advance to the playoffs. 

Indeed, the New York Mets are the only team in the history of sports to have humor, whimsy, and joy.

Especially when compared to the dastardly New York Yankees.

Is my sarcasm clear enough?

For the love of Tom Seaver, spare me.

As I speak, I'm currently arguing about who will win the National League MVP because that's the kind of thing Mets fans focus on. That, along with humor, whimsy, and joy, who has the best broadcasters, fast food characters, "OMG," and literally everything other than the game itself.

For the record, like it or not, Shohei Ohtani will win the MVP going away. I realize the guy is shaky with his interpreter and gambling getting swept under the rug but he had a season that was beyond few things we've rarely seen.

Also, Babe Ruth is still the GOAT. I'm content to die on that hill.

And Francisco Lindor of the Mets has become every bit the player that I thought he'd become in New York. He's great to watch and perfect for the spotlight. But the MVP will be Ohtani

Anyway, I'm hoping we have chaos tomorrow to finish the season. The Arizona Diamondbacks will be watching with great interest as their own playoff hopes hinge on what happens in these two games.

After that? The playoffs begin. 

I know who I'm rooting for.

Radio Matters Always

 

(Photo: CNN)

A woman named Tricia is trying to find her sister Tamara on Bear Creek Road in Asheville, NC.

I know this because I'm listening to WWNC Radio from Asheville.

In truth, through the magic of "corporate radio," the duo I'm listening to are broadcasting from Greenville, SC but transmitting over WWNC and other iHeart Radio outlets.

While that's not my favorite, I think you have to do what you have to do.

Certainly, on the night of Superstorm Sandy, I was in the studio until we lost power. But, with no generator, once the lights went dark, we were done. There was no other option for us. We are an independent station. There was no other option, other than we should have had a generator.

"Boots on the ground" as the saying goes, is always best but, in truth, who knows what the conditions are at the WWNC studios in Asheville? Far be it for me to judge them under the circumstances. Given the historic amount of flooding in Asheville, along with power loss, there might be no way to be on the air from their studios. From what I'm hearing, they lost their fiber optic services and so they were off the air.

Regardless, these people anchoring remotely are doing phenomenal work. They're getting whatever phone calls and messages that they can and relaying them.

A big shout-out to Aaron Michael and Kix Layton for the work they're doing tonight. I don't even know if they have a background in news and information but they're crushing it.

They're explaining where the shelters are. They're relaying the messages of what gas stations have fuel. They're saying which roads are open, given the news is reporting that Asheville is closed off to the outside world. The reports are the roads are washed out and Asheville is currently only accessible via air.

But they're explaining more than just Asheville. They're talking about the surrounding area.

They're also taking gutwrenching phone calls. The emotions have run wild. They just took a phone call from Mark Starling, morning host on WWNC. He choked up talking about the events of the last few days. He also said there are trees down all over the access road to the radio station and he'll be back to work on clearing things up on Sunday morning. 

Radio goes on.

Stations like this are often what's known as "voice tracked." Chances are, none of these stations aren't normally live, with the "voices" having been recorded days or hours earlier. Or, as you might know, the program originates over a satellite from somewhere else.

In this case, these two people are live -- granted over an hour outside of Asheville -- but they're local and on top of the news.

I've done things like this, during the Superstorm but also during snow storms and things like that. It takes a calm voice, a firm presence, but also a lot of empathy and patience. These times can get chaotic.

The compassion these two hosts are showing is wonderful. It's truly positive and supportive while remaining realistic.

Sure, they're repeating themselves at times but that's the nature of an audience. New listeners come and go all the time so it's best to repeat. I'm sure that can be frustrating to hear as a listener but please be patient with them.

Radio, since the very beginning, has been about information as well as entertainment. The very beginnings of commercial radio. -- yes, the history is somewhat murky -- featured presidential election night results in 1920 on KDKA in Pittsburgh.

Since then, Pearl Harbor, D-Day, the JFK assassination, Vietnam, Watergate, the Challenger disaster, the Gulf War, Sep 11, and too many weather events have played out on the radio.

Obviously, TV is so important as well but when we do it right, we all work together.

These guys are crushing it and doing an enormously important job.

We sadly see historic events like this frequently.

Even in this era of radio broadcasting, it's good to know that we can find a way to get the information to those who need it.

Sending support to these broadcasters with thanks for what they're doing.

Sending love and best wishes to those impacted by this storm.

The Adrenaline is Gone

 

From the booth at Cardinal Stadium

Some games just wear me out.

Today's Bishop Hendricken/Greenwich football game was outstanding.

That, simply put, can be exhausting.

That's the post right there.

I learned many years ago that a nail-biting game can drain adrenaline after it's over. That's how I feel tonight.

It's exhausting because it was a wonderful battle between two excellent programs.

Hendricken scored the first time they touched the ball, but Greenwich responded in kind.

It was 7-7 right through the end of the first half. Greenwich had the ball at the end of the second quarter and missed a field goal at the buzzer.

Again, each team put seven on the board in the third quarter to keep things tied at 14.

With three minutes to play in what had been mostly a defensive battle, a six-yard touchdown pass gave the Hawks from Warwick, RI a 20-14 lead.

But never take the extra point for granted. Greenwich's Richie McMurray blocked it and we were set for a fantastic finish.

The Cardinals had thrown the ball with some success but they went back to the run to work the clock down. They had all three time outs so destiny was mostly in their hands. They needed a touchdown to tie the game. The extra point would put them ahead.

In the booth, it's important to convey the drama without overselling it. It's also important to stay in control but feel the passion.

You live for calls like this. People remember calls like this.

But the words all matter. Don't exaggerate. Stay calm but let the emotion flow. Don't be a cheerleader. Remain professional. React but also watch the officials because it's their call that you can react to.

Next to me once again was Dan Murphy. Dan has understood every element of this position. To some color commentators, the instinct is to react, often stepping on the call of the game. That, as my guy Anthony Conover would say, "is not what you want."

Dan has exhibited excellent timing and a sense of humor as well as an understanding of the moment. For someone still so new he has meshed so well with me.

Greenwich, leaning on junior running back Hector Lopez and senior quarterback MJ D'Angelo, ran the ball up the field. D'Angelo scampered to the end zone to tie the game at 20 with 1:15 remaining.

It was now on the foot of Julian Ravina, and the senior didn't disappoint, tacking on the extra point to give the Cardinals a 21-20 lead.

The defense needed to do their thing against the Hawks offense.

They did.

A desperation heave was intercepted by Noah Steele and the Cardinals ran out the clock.

And so, you're reading the words of an exhausted broadcaster. 

Home games often mean being "on." The door opens with visitors and there are questions to answer and hellos to exchange.

Also, this was the first home game since last December and do I need to explain that? To that end, Cardinal Stadium now does not allow backpacks among other things. I don't like feeling that I was involved with anything like that. People bring it up to me jokingly and I mostly laugh about it.

But it sits in the back of my mind.

To that end, I was glad to be back at Cardinal Stadium and have a great game to cherish and move on. I've only waited nine months for that moment.

The Cardinals are home next Saturday as I do the two-school shuffle, calling the Greenwich homecoming game before running to Brunswick to call their Saturday night affair.

But, at this point, I'm shutting down and shutting up.

I've had enough excitement.

Stadium Comings and Goings

 

Joe DiMaggio and Catfish Hunter. 

Where had Joe DiMaggio gone?

Joltin' Joe had left and gone away, retiring from baseball as a player following the 1951 season. A kid named Mantle would replace him in center field in New York and debates about who was better have raged ever since.

Regardless of that, DiMaggio spent the 50s briefly married to Marlyn Monroe, doing some broadcasting, and simply being Joe DiMaggio. He coached in spring training, did commercials, and lived his life.

By 1968, baseball was shifting around. The team known as the Braves had moved from Boston to Milwaukee to eventually settle in Atlanta. The Dodgers and Giants both left New York for the west coast, replaced by some other squad in 1962. The Washington Senators moved to Minnesota before a second Senators team sprung up.

These were just some of the moves of the era, and in 1968, the Kansas City Athletics, once of Philadelphia, relocated to the California Bay Area.

They became the Oakland Athletics, "The Swingin' A's!"

And Joe DiMaggio -- San Francisco's own, who still owned a restaurant across the bay -- was hired by A's owner Charlie Finley to be a coach.

Initially, Joe was a front office person but accepted the opportunity to put a uniform on.

Joe DiMaggio -- forever number five in pinstripes (save for his rook year when he wore nine) -- donned the green, white, and gold of Oakland.

It was...an interesting site.

DiMag was out of the dugout by 1969 and eventually off to live out the rest of his life promoting Mr. Coffee, the Bowery Savings Bank, and simply being Joe DiMaggio.

The A's -- on the verge of a dynasty -- spoke glowingly of the tutelage of baseball's then "Greatest Living Player."

*****

The Oakland Athletics will cease to exist in a few hours. In one of baseball's truly dark hours, the A's will depart the Oakland-Alameda County Coliseum following today's game against the Texas Rangers. They have a series in Seattle to finish the season.

The reason they're leaving Oakland, of course, is money. The A's owner, John Fisher, wants a new stadium. He and the city of Oakland could not come to an agreement about a new building. Instead, Fisher will first move the team to Sacramento for three years before a new stadium is supposed to be ready in Las Vegas.

All of that makes me need a shower. It's just dirty. Dirty business. Dirty politics. With a clueless owner and commissioner of baseball leading the way.

As usual, it's the fans who are suffering. Today's game is sold out in Oakland, which will help their season average of just 11,081 fans.

The distance from Oakland to Sacramento is under 100 miles so it's curious how many fans will follow them to the California capital.

The trip from Oakland to Las Vegas is closer to 600 miles.

It's the fans who are always forgotten. There are still people in Brooklyn who are angry over the departure of the Dodgers. The A's fans will feel a large chunk of that same venom. They had an overall proud history, winning four titles (1972, 73, 74, 89), along with myriad playoff appearances, as well as being the basis of "Moneyball."

Both the concept and the movie, which I have some issues with.

I can't help but watch and read about the end of this era and how shameful it all is. Keep in mind that not a single shovel has gone into the ground for a stadium in Las Vegas, which is slated to hold only 33,000 fans and open in 2028.

The Sacramento stadium will have a capacity of just 14,014. It will be the smallest attention by far in MLB.

Will any of it be reality? Who cares? It all stinks.

Fans deserve better.

It's sad and, once again, shame on Major League Baseball.

*****

I'm heading to The Bronx shortly for tonight's Yankees/Orioles game.

Watching the Oakland situation reminded me in the slightest way when the old Yankee Stadium closed. The Yankees, of course, weren't leaving New York, but they were moving across the street, and away from the iconic address that they'd called home since 1923.

I'm still sad and, no, I'll never get over it.

But, look, I like the current Yankee Stadium. It's still epic and has good site lines, a museum, and a huge team store. 

Yes, it's been called a shopping mall. Whatever. That's stadium building in the 21st century.

I like it.

But, of course, it's not the old place. Even the "remodeled" Stadium of 1976-2008 was maligned because it wasn't the original 1923 building.

That remodeled stadium was my home though. And it was on the site of the original stadium with some of the infrastructure of 1923.

The old Yankee Stadium didn't have the amenities. If you went to the bathroom or concession stand you were completely separated from the game.

Oh, but I loved those concourses. Those ramps. Those escalators. 

Those smells.

That explosion of color. The blues of the stands and the green of the field.

The only stadium I ever went to with my dad was the original Yankee Stadium. I made so many friends in the remodeled one. I carry all of those memories.

And, most of all, that sound. That roar. Whether it was 27,000 or 57,000, it was a sound you never forgot.

But I enjoy the new building. I love not taking my car to it and we'll be on the train.

We'll have a blast.

Even if it rains, we'll be dry and watching the game.

We'll have fun.

And baseball is supposed to be fun.

And my heart hurts for Oakland, CA today.

You deserve better.

We Need Stinking Badges

 

I used to have a media badge that I carried with me.

It was simple, carrying just the WGCH logo on it. I added a label with my name on it and that was enough. As Sean would go to games with me at that time, I made one for him as well. It made him feel official.

I stopped wearing it a while ago as it was outdated.

Flash forward to the beginning of this footblal season at West Haven.

At first, I walked into their stadium unnoticed, as security wasn't on site yet. Dan didn't have an issue when he arrived either but a guard near the gate noticed him walk back to his car.

"He's with me," I told the guard, though I'm not sure what that point would have been. But she recognized that we were both legit and both broadcasters, so it was OK.

I watched as some of the print media walked in, badges around their necks and it reminded me that maybe we should once again have such a thing.

Earlier today, for the fun of it, I looked online to see how expensive such a thing would be.

Finding the price to not be prohibitive, I went about selecting a style and designing credentials that would help Dan and I look a little more legit.

I found a picture that I liked of myself. Granted, it's dated, but it's a shot John Ferris Robben took of me at Brunswick a few years back. I've used it for other profile pictures and I still sort of look like that.

I also fudged a new logo. This badge will be used for games that I cover and I can't really dig up the logos of every job that I work at.

So, unless I decide to make a new one, I picked out WGCH and Robcasting and put them together. Nothing fancy, of course, and I have no idea how the finished product will look.

It's worth mentioning that it feels like I need a credential most of all at football games that I work. I generally have no problem with other sports, especially when covering Brunswick. Still, an official-looking badge won't hurt.

I realize it's not the work of the Official Internation Sportscasting Badge Design Association of Ottumwa, IA. It's meant to look like I belong and I suppose I can show my driver's license beyond that.

No. There is not an official organization for sportscasting badges. Also, I used Ottumwa, IA because it's such a great-sounding city name and Radar O'Reilly from M*A*S*H was from there.

It's supposed to be delivered in under two weeks which simply produced questions for me.

- Why does it take so long to create this?

- The second question is about shipping. After going through the creation process, I went to check out and saw that the shipping cost was nearly double the cost of the badge. So...why?

Dan and I placed our order together to help with the shipping cost a little but it's still essentially two-to-one.

It will be cool to get it when it arrives. I've got a few lanyards just from myriad Hunt Scanlon conferences alone.

If nothing else, it will be a fun curio to add to the box of credentials I've acquired over nearly three decades.

And maybe we'll look official.

At the Station

 

Photo: Carol M. Highsmith, Radio Station Studio
Courtesy Library of Congress 

I was in a radio studio tonight.

No, not the one here in Greenwich. I visited another one tonight.

There's something about being in a studio that will always feed my soul.

It's like being among your own type of people in that you speak the same language, even if the equipment is different.

In this case, I've worked in this studio before. Many times. But I hadn't been back in several years so it was nice to be there. It's one of those places where you just wind up coming back to when you least expect it.

I did what I needed to do and learned some of what I needed to learn.

That's the thing about broadcasting. You learn to never say never and it's why I strive to not burn bridges. That's not to say I've never burned a bridge but my preference is to always take the high road.

Eventually, you just might wind up back in familiar surroundings.

There's a smell to a radio station. It's hard to explain. It's a combination of electronic equipment and probably some food (even if it's not supposed to be in the studio) and other scents. Fortunately, nobody smokes in a radio station anymore so that isn't a factor.

Or they're not supposed to smoke in the station.

The lighting is familiar. The studio area is lit while the office area is dark,

But my eyes darted around at the equipment. The mixing console is the same one I used so many years ago. There are myriad computers and screens. There are CD players and recorders and processes and other instruments of communication.

So long as the people you've met understand you, then you are speaking the right language. They come to realize you're no newbie and you reach an understanding.

Oh, I'm not new. I'm an old dog learning new tricks.

I'll likely be back there again. Another in a long line of places where I can hang my hat.

I often liked just hanging around the station. For instance, I'd just sit at WGCH sometimes. There is a level of peace about it, especially when it's empty. There was one night when I was working at HAN and I was in the Greenwich area. I still had a key and the code to get in and I decided to visit.

And I just sat there in the peace and quiet. All I was missing was some chicken soup in that moment of comfort food.

My soul felt right.

We all need those places of comfort, where we just feel right even if it's not our usual home. 

That's what tonight felt like.

A Roster on Monday

 

It's an active week but tonight is my lone quiet evening.

It's a perfect night for doing laundry and stuff around the house.

I realize that doesn't make for a compelling post, but sometimes we take what we have.

It's all we can do.

Oh, I'll be busy the rest of the week in a variety of ways before Greenwich hosts Bishop Hendricken on Friday afternoon.

The process of preparing for a high school game is generally the same. I go about securing space to work and getting team rosters before digging for other nuggets. Of course, I'm always monitoring weather conditions, equipment, and whatever adjustments I need to make regarding that.

Since Friday's game is at Cardinal Stadium, space is all set. Weather will only be an issue to get the equipment to and from my car. Otherwise, Dan and I will be indoors with air conditioning and heating as necessary.

I'm sure I've alluded to the process of securing rosters being often brutal. My email to a contact at Salisbury went unanswered last week but I was able to get their roster via Brunswick. Eventually, I discovered Salisbury had a program that they created with both team rosters and other information.

It was heavenly.

But, as you know, I've scuffled to get rosters in other situations, such as West Haven in week one of this season. As always, I eventually got it but it doesn't make for appropriate preparation.

And that happens. A lot. There were so many times I was told I could get a basketball roster "out of the scorebook" at the game site. Not ideal, of course.

I got a nice gift today when I was searching for information on Bishop Hendricken, who is frequently known just as "Hendricken."

I discovered that I didn't need to rely on MaxPreps (dangerous) or hope that someone at the school would respond to me.

A website maintained by the Rhode Island Interscholastic League had the roster on it.

Euphoria.

This now leads me down the path of identifying their skill players, who are the names that I will call more than anyone else. Who is their quarterback, running backs, receivers, leading defenders, kicker, punter, and so on?

Oh, there's more, such as looking for statistics, and you need to know that not everyone makes those available. 

It's a lot of detective work.

Literally, everything begins with a roster and I know that, at worst, I can call a game with just that. That is not my preference of course, but sometimes it's all you have in the process or when time is an issue. From there, I have to trust my instinct and hopefully get online.

It happens a lot to me. Can I pull a rabbit out of my hat and do a game at the last minute? Sure, I can. That's part of the fun. Part of the challenge.

So, in the case of Bishop Henricken in Rhode Island, it's nice to see that I could download their roster and format it the way I like it four days before kickoff.

It shouldn't be a luxury. It should be an expectation.

The "E" is For Enjoyable

 

Vermont building at The Big E (@TheBigEFair on X)

I chose to honor tradition and be good to myself today.

While we're watching costs during this time, I'm being very cautious about everything.

That being said, Sean and I went to The Big E today. The event is a large fair that I went to annually for roughly 20 years. But as life changed I backed away from it. Every fall I'd glance towards it, decide it wasn't something I needed to do, and figured that part of my life might be over.

Then Sean and I went a few years ago and the magic was still there. Plus, Sean and I do things our way.

We go, do what we want, and leave. We don't tend to linger.

While the fair is huge, we were in and out in just over three hours. 

We are fairly predictable in our routine. We go to the state houses, pick up maple cream cones in Vermont, look at everything, and think about what we want to come back to.

Then we walk the rest of the fair.

Some years, things grab us. Some years, they just don't. This was a year where we were content to just walk.

And walk. 

We saw everything.

We grabbed food here and there, with a bacon cheeseburger on a waffle being a big winner outside the Massachusetts house. We grabbed cider donuts in Vermont and he had a whoopie pie in Maine.

And, of course, the maple cones in Vermont. This is when Sean normally makes fun of my love of maple. He also makes fun of my habit of picking up road maps and other literature, which I had traditionally put in a backpack I carried all day.

Today, I did not carry one. I allowed myself exactly one map, from Maine. Because I do love that state.

Each New England state has its own state house and they are, in fact, extensions of their state or commonwealth. In Connecticut, for instance, the beer stand couldn't open until 11 a.m.

So, if we were ranking each of the houses for the content of each, I'm guessing we'd go like this:

- Vermont (maple, Ben & Jerry's, though points lost because the wood-fired pizza we used to eat is gone)

- Massachusetts (good cross-section of items, though points deducted for Boston sports)

- Maine (the Maine potato and the whoopie pies)

- Rhode Island (a solid selection of seafood items, Del's lemonade, and a candy stand)

- New Hampshire (it's sort of a house of "meh")

- Connecticut (it's a train wreck, quite honestly, plus their desperate need for attention -- see picture)

Yeah. This.
Maybe spend money on fixing roads and not on pithy signs?

They're all great to walk through but it's certainly a variety of wares to purchase, some displays to look at, and a whole lot of foot traffic.

We did nothing extravagant. We gassed up the car, paid for parking and admission, got our food, and made a grocery store stop on the way home.

So, for what it's worth, it was a reasonable day. But it also gave us a chance to walk around and just talk. He is always playing his Pokémon GO game and I'm a willing participant in helping him however possible, even if normally by walking to a certain place. I understand none of it but I try to help.

The day also allowed me some time to check out and think a bit. It will be a busy week.

And, as for the ride home, allow me to once again say that Connecticut can afford signs that trumpet things unnecessarily, but can't do anything about the roads in the state. It should not have taken us nearly three hours to get home from just outside Springfield, MA.

I-95. Merritt Parkway. Wilbur Cross Parkway. I-84. I-91. It doesn't matter. All had some form of slowdown.

This is in addition to the 45 minutes to drive the last mile to where we parked for the fair.

That's more than enough.

But if the fates allow, we'll do it all over again next year.

Communication Matters

 

Schedules change all the time.

They get shifted around for various reasons and it's up to me to adjust as necessary.

We were on the air today calling Greenwich/Stamford at Boyle Stadium and I was promoting next week's broadcast.

The Cardinals -- according to my original schedule -- were scheduled to play Bishop Henricken from Rhode Island on Saturday at 1 p.m.

I continued calling the game when I saw my phone light up. An intrepid listener -- and friend -- messaged me to say the game was now Friday.

So I confirmed that the game is indeed next Friday at 4:45 p.m.

The good news is that I quickly alerted Dan Murphy and Sean Kilkelly because they were both nearby. I texted Bob Small to ensure it would be scheduled on the air.

So, we're set, right? Er, not entirely.

I was scheduled to call Middletown/Kingston on WALL Radio in New York next Friday. I had been looking forward to the trip to Dietz Stadium as I hadn't called a game there since 2004.

My heart sank, knowing I'd have to back out of that game. Oh, that gnaws at me because I'm such a believer in honoring commitments and being reliable.

I messaged my friend Kevin Halpenny and delivered him the news. Keep in mind I did this while I was on the air.

Kevin was also on the air, likely calling Middletown/Port Chester in the annual matchup for the Erie Bell.

We spoke later on and he could have been more gracious and understanding. It helped that he already had someone to take my place.

With that, I'm now looking into picking up Brunsiwck's game next Saturday in Massachusetts. It's possible that all's well that ends well.

Although I'm sensing it might not and I'm going to have next Saturday off (just in case anyone would like me to call something).

But of course, it's not the best feeling to find out about the change while on the air, also feel like I'm the last to know.

It's also the second time it's happened this week. Today's game was originally scheduled for 1 p.m. but was backed up to Noon. I got a note from another fan and friend this week to note that change. Again, Bob, Sean, and Dan all needed to know so that we could make the necessary adjustments. 

Again, no big deal but sort of a big deal. It's all part of the organization to keep our ducks in a row.

The overall point is how grateful I am to the Greenwich football community for having our back. We've had all kinds of hiccups over the years where I've driven to a game site to find out that the game I was there to cover had been postponed or canceled.

A little communication can go a very long way, so I'm grateful to those who messaged me.

This serves as a reminder to everyone that I cover that I'm happy to get on whatever form of communication that keeps me in the know. It also allows me to keep the audience informed.

A little communication truly goes a long way.

A W For Wick

 

I mean, this view. From a football field.

It's not a short commitment to go to Salisbury, CT.

If you've never been, the northwest corner of the state is truly nice. There are towns straight out of New England central casting with some breathtaking views. The Taconic Mountains come into view, especially from the hilltop at Salisbury School.

There are plenty of charming restaurants, cafes, antique shops, and other treats. It's always a pleasure.

I was in Salisbury to call my first Brunswick contest since I did lacrosse in May. Final score: Brunswick 34, Salisbury 14. It frankly wasn't that close.

I saw a few familiar faces and said hello but, otherwise, I was on my own. I made the drive up from Norwalk along U.S. 7, stopping a few times for things like gas and a new charge cable for my phone to use in the car.

I even stopped in Gaylordsville to see the "spite house" Atlas Obscura has more about this curiosity.

The Gaylordsville, CT "spite house"

Eventually, I came into Canaan, where Routes 7 and 44 converge, and grabbed a cup of coffee. A few minutes later, because I'm me, I drove up 7 into Massachusetts.

Then I turned around and came back to Connecticut.

Why did I do that? Because I could. 

I'm weird, I suppose, and I accept that. But it also made me smile.

It was to make the point that this was a long day but still indicative of how reachable things are.

I was soon at Salisbury's campus, where I was greeted warmly. I set up in the booth, strolled the field, set up my notes, and steadied myself to call the game.

I was eventually joined by a scoreboard/clock operator and two Salisbury fans. I realize I impeded on their territory but I do wish people would remember that my presence means there are microphones around. They talked, using "we" when referring to Salisbury but they also said a few things that caused me to mute the mics a few times. Nothing scandalous but I just prefer to keep conversations off the air.

They left as the clock was winding down. I packed up and chatted with Salisbury's media advisor, who was intrigued by the fact that I teach sports broadcasting, and took off.

I added a third state to the day as I crossed into New York to come down Route 22, the most direct way home.

The Cat was waiting when I walked in.

I needed a night like this. I'll take it.

Another game awaits tomorrow as Greenwich plays at Stamford.

I've got a similar road trip next week, as I'm heading to Kingston NY but we'll address that sometime before Friday.

Right now, the focus is on turning towards tomorrow.

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.