The Printer Graveyard

 It's amazing how important the home office is.

I've had one for years, in fact, basically since I was a kid for studying purposes.

But, eventually, and especially with working from home for radio and other jobs, a true home office is a necessity.

To that end, what was once on the desk has evolved. There was always a phone but now it's a cell phone, for instance.

But there wasn't always a printer. I remember the days -- before I owned a computer -- when I would actually go to my office in White Plains on the weekend to type papers for college. Plus I could use the printer while I was there.

Eventually, the home PC and printer market became more affordable.

I've had several printers over the years and, with my work in sports broadcasting, I have to be able to print.

There are rosters and scoresheets and notes to be generated.

Until a few weeks ago, I had a Canon printer that my mom had bought. Or, more accurately, I still have it. 

In that scenario, she might buy it but it was generally up to me to set up and maintain.

She bought another printer with a deal from HP to charge for ink on a subscription basis as needed, but if we only printed 15 pages or under a month, then everything was free.

OK, cool. Guess what printer rarely gets used? Tonight, in fact, it's not working at all as the quality is garbage.

When the Canon printer began giving me trouble, Sean remembered that he had another one at his mother's house. As he has all but moved here, he thought he'd bring the printer to Greenwich.

Well, it's here, and on the first page I tried to print, the quality was bad. So it was time to install the fresh print cartridges that he also brought with him.

Cool. 

I diligently reset everything and the printer immediately beeped at me.

"Non-HP Chip Detected."

It turns out that the cartridges he brought here weren't from HP. They came from another vendor, no doubt at a lower price. I had done the same a few times with the Canon printer and had success.

But HP has this chip thing that forces you to buy HP ink or the printer will not function.

I've searched everywhere for a workaround and, frankly, there's none.

I have read that downgrading the firmware is an option but can't find how to do it or the proper firmware to download.

There's no question the simplest answer is to say that HP is dirty for doing this and that they'll lose a customer in the process. I get that they want their ink to be the first choice but if your prices are obnoxious (and they are) then don't play like this when customers reach for other options.

So I'm pricing printers. I'm also looking at printers who would take the ink for the Canon printer.

And if anyone wants a printer, even for parts, I guess let me know because it might be available.

All is not lost because, in the interim, I've been going to WGCH to print my scoresheet, rosters, and notes.

I have at least one more football game. 

And, oh yeah, I've added a hockey game as well.

On Saturday, I'm heading down to New Jersey to do the New Jersey Rockets of the USHL Premier League.

I see it as a new experience and a new contact. From there, you never know what comes of it.

Plus I can get Wawa.

Before we close, if Greenwich wins their football semifinal on Sunday, they'll play in the state championship on Saturday, Dec 9 at 5:00 at Arute Field in New Britain.

I imagine I'll have more to say if they get to play in that game, so we'll wait.

I'll have more things to try to print.

The Time Out Touchdown

 

Greenwich beat Stamford last night 47-21.

To say the score doesn't tell the full story is an understatement. The Stamford Black Knights -- in their first playoff game since 1995 -- came ready to play, returning the opening kickoff for a touchdown.

To the credit of the Greenwich Cardinals, they immediately responded with a touchdown to tie it up before taking a 14-7 lead.

But the Black Knights were up for the challenge and put a touchdown on the board to cut the deficit to one.

Greenwich hit for a long pass to make it 21-13. We'll come back to that.

Then, before halftime, the Black Knights scored again and tacked on a two-point conversion. 

The teams went to the locker room tied at 21.

Greenwich head coach Tony Morello put the game in the hands of his captains at the break. On their first play from scrimmage in the second half, the Cardinals struck for an 80-yard touchdown.

Suddenly, Greenwich began looking like the team that had been number one in the state.

Quarterback Rocco Grillo threw for 348 yards and three touchdowns. Ian Kim ran for 117 yards and two touchdowns. Noah Park -- a sophomore! -- had three catches for 119 yards and two touchdowns and also ran for one. Grillo ran for a touchdown as well.

Gavyn Gennarelli -- an outstanding receiver -- also caught a touchdown. In fact, he had seven catches for 130 yards. Let's spend a little more time on that touchdown though.

First, let me mention that many high school stadiums have microphones around for a game. If you sit anywhere near a press box, you risk being heard.

Natural sound microphones can be on cameras hanging in the stadium or there could be a radio broadcaster with a microphone sticking out of a window.

That's me. Hi.

I've heard so much over the years through the crowd mic. Too much, if we're being honest, and I'm sure you know what I mean.

So I beg of all, proceed with caution.

I suppose another public service announcement would be to remind fans that players, coaches, and officials won't change the game based on things being yelled out from the stands. In short, you don't want to make yourself a part of the game.

And so it was that Greenwich was going the wrong way in the second quarter. Of course, I understand fans being frustrated as they get backed up, including a delay of game penalty to create a third-and-27 scenario back at the Stamford 45-yard line.

So, yes, frustration was building as Greenwich only led 14-13 at that point. Of course, when your team is the defending state champions, you have an expectation. I get all of that.

To that end, fans felt the Cardinals -- specifically Coach Morello -- should spend one of their three time outs. Alas, they did not.

And so it was third-and-27.

"Talked about Greenwich can't be Greenwich," Chris Erway said.

"And they have all three time outs," I said. "Five twenty remaining in the first half."

And then? From the crowd, I heard this:

"USE YOUR TIME OUTS!"

I'm not sure if Coach Morello heard it. I'm not sure who else did. But we could hear it clearly on the broadcast through the aforementioned crowd microphone.

Our broadcasts have often been interactive. So long as Chris and I can do our jobs we are able to have some fun with fans. The person in the crowd expressing his displeasure regarding the time out stayed clear in my mind as Greenwich lined up for their next play.

"Third and 27," I said. "Grillo ... slings it...right side! Got a man wide open who makes the catch! Sideline! Touchdown!"

And then?

"How's that for not using your time out?!"

It took a moment to catch the number of the receiver. In fact, public address announcer Nick Fesko initially thought it was Jake Stefanowicz but I had the luxury of being able to look through a monocular to find it was, indeed, Gennarelli.

Chris thought the whole thing was pretty funny. So did a few people who reached out to me on social media and via text.

Chris wanted it preserved. So, I cut it out of the broadcast last night and have uploaded it here.

"The Time Out Touchdown" has been born.

It is posted with all good humor and respect.

The Cardinals now head to a state semifinal where they'll host West Haven Sunday at 12:30.

Chris and I will be on hand for the call on WGCH.

And the crowd mic will be in the window.

You have been warned.

Playoffs?

 

Nov 25, 2001. Indianapolis Colts head coach Jim Mora
enters "Playoffs?" into sports lexicon

Greenwich hosts Stamford in a state semifinal football game tonight.

Game time is 6:30 at Cardinal Stadium. Chris Erway and I will open the broadcast at 6:20.

Funny thing about our pregame show: it's literally just to get on the air. That's why nearly every pregame show of mine for a quarter of a century has been ten minutes. It's the chance to make sure everything is working and have a last-minute chance to fix it if not.

Oh sure, we'll do an opening breakdown with a scene-setter and some keys to the game but we figure we have the actual game broadcast to present the whole story.

In reality, we've already connected to the radio station long before that, but you just never know. Back in the days of the sideline reporter, it was an opportunity to double-check their connection. Again, we already tested everything (preparation!) before air time but signals get jammed as more people come into the stadium.

A playoff game or a championship game or even the Thanksgiving game just hits differently. There are simply certain games that are different. The stakes are higher.

The care and attention put into a likely midseason blowout is now heightened. 

We know -- with every broadcast -- we have a lot of Cardinals fans listening. They're listening from Greenwich and far beyond.

They're listening in California and England and Asia and beyond.

Honestly, that's the truth.

They might not be listening on the space station but who's to say?

But yes I've heard many times from the people listening around the world.

It's more than Cardinals fans, however.

Tonight, Stamford fans will tune in. Oh, they expect that Chris and I are waving pom poms for Big Red but it's simply not true. I think we were pretty fair to Staples last Thursday. I'm comfortable with that.

Both teams deserve a fair shake. That's always been my belief.

It makes me think back to the Greenwich/Fairfield Prep playoff game back in 2021. I noted we were getting attacked for having a "Prep bias" online. One user said we were auditioning to be the Prepm announcers.

Well, for what it's worth, we briefly were because they felt we were fair and honest and called a good game. Oh, and the price was right but I digress.

Fans, of course, are rarely happy with broadcasters. It's part of the landscape.

But, yes, Stamford fans will listen (and watch).

So will fans with no rooting interest, just wanting to check in and see how the game is going.

The audience can get large, especially if it's a compelling game.

I think it will be just that for what it's worth. I prefer to not make predictions when I'm the play-by-play announcer but I do expect Greenwich will be angry and Stamford will try to prove they belong, making their first playoff appearance since 1995.

It makes for what should be a fun (and cold) night at Cardinal Stadium.

As with any big game, there will be some nerves and anxiety before air time. I call these "good nerves" because they are. I'm in this position for a reason and I'm proud of that. 

Eventually, as it always does, the theme music will swell, and I'll open my big mouth.

We'll settle into the pregame show, take a break, and then get down to business.

And then the nerves will settle down. That's when it becomes just like any other game.

Except it's not.

It's the playoffs.

Win or go home.

One and done.

If Greenwich wins, we'll talk to you on Sunday at 12:20.

If not, I'll probably be watching football on TV.

I'd prefer to keep working.

Nonsense

 

It's another Monday.

Another day in a year.

Another 24 hours of digging through the cobwebs of my brain to find a topic to write about as we turn toward the end of the fifth year of this writing exercise.

This means that while I hope there have been many meaningful posts there have also been posts that have been, at best, "filler."

In other words, for every "A Day in the Life," there's also "Good Morning Good Morning."

In some cases, filler can be quite good and, as such, using The Beatles is a bad example but I think you get the idea.

This rolling around in my brain led me to think about the amount of dreck I've written.

I also thought about what I could write tonight.

Like pretzels.

A completely silly topic that I'll treat with complete sincerity.

I've probably mentioned how much I love pretzels.

They have been a staple in any kitchen I've lived in for as long as I can remember.

Originally, I remember getting hot pretzels back in the day when department stores had a snack bar.

So we'd get them at a store called White's in Yorktown Heights and Caldor.

There was nothing like a hot, soft pretzel with just enough salt. A good one melts in your mouth.

At home, we were all about hard pretzels.

Rods.

Bachman pretzel rods.

People in my family still associate those with me and I can understand why. To keep them fresh and in one piece, my mother bought a special tin that we kept in the kitchen.

At one point Backman had an outlet store near Reading, PA and you better believe I bought plenty of bags.

They've always been the perfect snack and the quick answer when I didn't know what else to eat.

I picked up a bag when I was in Mahopac for football; they're not as readily available as they used to be.

As our Wegmans doesn't carry them, we grab the barrel of Utz (full disclosure: Bachman is owned by Utz) and they're good but not quite the same.

But, yeah, these are the types of things that enter my brain on a night when I need a topic.

I spent most of "Doubleheader" ticking people off today so it's probably best to stay away from that.

So this is what you get tonight.

I probably owe you an apology.

I could, however, rhapsodize about Paul McCartney's book The Lyrics: 1956 to the Present. I got the book as a birthday present last week and I've begun reading it. OK, full disclosure: I bought it for myself.

Or a review of the first episode of the 60th anniversary of Doctor Who. Short version: love the story and, of course, the chemistry between David Tennant and Catherine Tate. 

But I figure those items can wait for another time.

More filler, I suppose.

I just hope the filler leans closer to being hits.

History Inspires the Future

 

2004

Generally, I enjoy seeing my memories pop up on social media.

Obviously, memories are a dangerous world to be in. One can't live in the past but, in the right context, they turn into stories and cautionary tales.

So, as I scrolled through my memories on Timehop this morning, I went through the usual cross-section of good, bad, and indifferent.

There was an article from 2019 about me becoming the Renegades' play-by-play announcer. That was special. The story hits a bit different now.

And then there were pictures over the past few days of the traffic light at the junction of Baldwin Place Road and U.S. 6 just outside of Mahopac. I tried to take that picture every year on Thanksgiving morning as I began my drive to either Westport, Greenwich, or Stamford for the football games.

Today, I also came across pictures from Syracuse, NY.

Once upon a time, I called three New York State football championships.

It was a different era for WGCH Radio. A different ownership. A different approach.

We dabbled in broadcasting games outside of Greenwich, broadening our horizon to cover Port Chester, Rye, and Harrison high schools. We also tried a short run with the high schools in Stamford as well. This is also when we tried to do more with Brunswick.

Recognizing nobody else in the region was providing coverage of these teams, we tried to capitalize. With Rye and Harrison, we had one of the premier football rivalries in the region as well as two perennial playoff teams. 

To that end, Harrison made a run in 2002, leading us to broadcast their regional and semifinal wins at Dietz Stadium in Kingston. From there, we were given the green light to go to what was then known as the Carrier Dome in Syracuse.

Mark Rosen, Sean Kilklelly, and I climbed into our station van and made the four-hour drive, including through snow. We stayed in a nice Hampton Inn, and went to the dome the next morning.

Harrison gave us a classic, rallying to beat Chenango Forks on a game-ending 30-yard field goal on Pete Kohlasch.

Talk about living the dream. 

Selfishly, we lived the dream also, being allowed by a member of the dome staff to go to the field and throw a football around. We were like kids.

It was tough to leave after the broadcast, just as I felt at Fenway Park in 2008.

We again battled insane snow all the way across the New York State Thruway before stopping for dinner in Albany. We also had awful wiper blades and a non-functioning windshield reservoir. I had to stop occasionally and wipe the window down with snow.

These are stories I wouldn't trade. 

That game was rebroadcast by WGCH management a few days later. It was a proud moment for all involved.

Rye would lead us back to the dome in 2003, also against Chenango Forks. Mark Rosen and I traveled solo this time, and I promised ownership that we'd keep costs low. To that end, Mark and stayed at a Motel 6. 

For the record, I'd prefer to never do that again. I remember I traveled without something that would normally be included in a hotel room (probably shampoo) and I had to go out to find some.

I went to a Wegmans. That was good.

But, yeah, the hotel was a sketchy place.

The game also didn't have the same drama as Forks shut out Rye for the title. But the experience was still exceptional.

2004

We got to do it once more in 2004, as Rye and Chenango Forks met again. This time, my crazy idea was that since the game was in the middle of the day, Tom Kane, Matt Hamilton, and I would go up and back and not stay over.

If you know me, then you know this isn't a surprise.

Again, we got an early start. Tom drove the van from Greenwich to Mahopac and I did the rest of the driving.

In this case, we got there nice and early and the staff decided to give us a hard time, telling us we couldn't have our booth until within an hour before kickoff. Thus we'd have two hours to kill.

Needless to say, I protested. Politely.

We got in. Part of my goal was to get Matt -- then, a a high schooler at Greenwich and a big Syracuse fan -- down to the field. I knew what it meant to him.

But the setup was also more involved back then. There were more things to carry and connect and it probably took upwards of an hour to have it set to my standards.

Yes, the breakdown took every bit as long if not longer in part because I'm normally worn out after a broadcast.

But the experience felt professional. We got our own individual booth, with room for all of us to spread out. We had stat sheets available to us after each quarter. We even had snacks -- drinks and cookies, as I recall. 

We had internet and phone lines -- and both were important at that time.

There was also a microphone hookup to air the comments of the officials.

It sounded the way it should.

The game, again, was a dud. Forks dominated Rye and, after dinner, we began the slog back home.

Oh, and for the record, we dealt with at least some snow on each of these three trips.

Alas, nothing lasts forever. Rye went back to the dome in 2005 and we did not.

Cost, ownership, etc.

In fact, we haven't been back since 2004.

Someone on NFHS Network -- a video streaming service that you have to pay to watch -- will call the championship games next weekend when Section One teams Carmel, Somers, and (yes) Rye play for titles.

I'd love to be there, giving listeners the radio call I think they'd be happy with. I mean, Chris Erway and I would be pretty damn great.

It costs money to do these things. It takes sponsors.

I, however, am not a salesperson.

I've literally begged to see us become something like that radio station of the early 2000s. 

I know local radio still matters, especially when it comes to local sports. I watch the schedule that Mike Hirn and my friends in Ohio have and it makes me insane. They get the sponsors and they all tell me they have plenty of games -- and have even thrown it out there for me to come out and help them.

No, I'm not moving to Ohio but don't be surprised if I figure out a way to do a guest appearance. If you know me, then you know I would do it.

Closer to home, I see the schedule that Kevin Halpenny and company assemble in the Port Jervis, NY area. We should be able to do that around here, working with LocalLive or anyone else for an immersive multimedia experience of radio and video.

Greenwich will be our focus this week of course, as they always have. Even in the middle of covering these teams, Greenwich High has remained the priority for WGCH. I've been a part of almost every GHS football playoff/championship game since 1999, only missing one.

I'll be at Cardinal Stadium on Tuesday for the Stamford/Greenwich tilt. If the Cardinals win, we'll be back on Sunday for the semifinal game. If they win that, Chris and I will go wherever the state championship game is.

For the record, Chris and I would be doing the radio call. NFHS will have someone else doing the video stream and I'll leave opinions on that to others. Believe me, I've heard plenty.

I've called more New Jersey championships recently than I have in Connecticut. That seems crazy but so be it.

My goal will always be to get WGCH (and Robcasting) to be a go-to for big sports broadcasts.

These pictures reminded me of what can be.

To get there will require a lot of work.

An Annual Appeal

 

No. Not him.

I don't come on here tonight to ask for money.

I come here to only ask for understanding.

As Santa came towards Macy's on Thanksgiving, it was time to accept that the holiday season was officially upon us.

To some -- heck, many -- that is a time of joy. They love all of it. They can't get enough. They want to hear Mariah Carey and have their tree up all year.

OK, that's their choice.

To others -- and there are quite a few of them as well -- it's a dark time. It really is. It's a time of difficulty and even a form of seasonal depression.

And that, frankly, is OK also.

The first Christmas after my father died was tough. It took getting used to and I don't quite remember the details except to say he did love Christmas so December without him was strange and sad.

Also, he was born in December so that added to the darkness.

Eventually, I rallied and appreciated the season for years. It was never my favorite, I suppose, but I wasn't miserable.

Sadly, I fell victim to just not feeling the holiday spirit as the years have gone on. Maybe it was post-divorce. Maybe it was too many family gatherings that had their own drama to it. I don't have a definitive date but I reached a point where I began to wish for Thanksgiving to fly by and right into early January.

I usually felt I wanted to wake up around January 2nd.

I had my reasons, including sadness over life and money and whatever else. It just felt like an empty and sad time every year.

I still feel it but it's not quite as acute as it has been in other years. Still, if I'm being honest, I'd rather not feel that way. I'm going to get through this one and see if maybe 2024 is better, but I digress.

Plus, again, the family commitments. I know I reached a point where I wanted to disappear during the holidays. I wanted to hide on an island or go to a distant place.

I will say that Thanksgiving this year was comfortable. For me, that's a start.

Of course, Mom died in 2020 and that first holiday season wasn't easy. Later in her life, it was my duty to get her places, especially on the holidays. So I initially felt a bit lost after she passed. Traveling was weird as well, including a trip Sean and I took to Pennsylvania the following February and our trip down to North Carolina that summer. We felt like her ghost was with us. It's gotten better but it was weird at first.

So what I'm getting at is don't automatically brand someone a "Grinch" if they're not sipping peppermint cocoa and sneaking under the mistletoe while "The 12 Days of Christmas" is ringing out on the Bluetooth speaker.

They have their reasons. They've lost a loved one recently or maybe someone passed during a previous holiday season. They don't owe anyone an explanation either.

And, to be fair, some people simply don't like the holidays. They don't like the crowds, the hustle, the bustle, the crass consumerism of gift giving or whatever it is.

They might think the movies are bad. Yes, even "Christmas Vacation."

(Personally, I prefer "A Christmas Story" and "Elf")

The point is who knows? And, honestly, why is it anyone's business?

It can frankly be a sensitive time of year. If they're not impacting you, then I suppose there's no issue, right?

Once again, I do personally wish we could sort of blink and have it all be over. Heck, I'd fast forward to late March if I could, with full memories of the fantastic winter season of games I broadcast as a token of the trip.

I don't want to miss everything.

Much like literally everything in our world, it would simply be best if we tried a little tenderness and, especially some understanding. Try walking in the shoes of others. Have some empathy. Nobody wants to be miserable so try to understand why.

I realize we can all be judgmental at times. But in a season that's supposed to bring out the best why don't we try that very thing?

There's enough hatred in the world. Couldn't we have a little goodwill towards all?

Some people simply don't want to listen to whatever holiday warbling you're playing. Some do and those who don't want to listen to it have to adjust.

Let each other be in these times of trouble.

It's a give-and-take.

Of course, 'tis the season.

Perfect Records

It's another one of those classic music questions:

What's an album you listen to from beginning to end?

Now, some will say that they never skip a song but, let's be honest, I'm guessing most of us do.

Thus, it's the question of a "perfect" album, if you will.

For me, it's easy to say The Beatles and, well, are there any songs I skip?

If you know, you know.

I do think Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band is a fairly perfect album, but I'll admit that I've often been guilty of skipping George Harrison's "Within You Without You." But, with age and wisdom comes a deeper appreciation of George and, by extension, the song. Thus I'm not so quick to bypass it anymore.

But let's head over to the album officially called The Beatles, shall we? There it sits -- all eight minutes and 22 seconds of sonic stuff.

"Revolution 9."

You know it.

"Number nine. Number nine. Number nine."

As one might say, "Rubbish."

So, yeah, basically everything else but that can be played from beginning to end. Specifically, A Hard Day's Night, Help!, Rubber Soul, Revolver, Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band, Abbey Road, and Let It Be are all effortless.

And, yes, basically every step of the Huey Lewis and the News catalog falls into this world as well for me, but I'll especially note Picture This, Sports, and Fore!

Billy Joel chimes in as well, with high marks for The Stranger, 52nd Street, Glass House, and The Nylon Curtain. As much as love Turnstiles, the song "James" is just too much of a 70s curio for me.

In the jazz world, Kind of Blue by Miles Davis is perhaps the most magical trip one can take. The Dave Brubeck Quartet's Time Out is as smooth as butter.

I should mention that this list is not meant to be perfect. I'm sort of cherry-picking the albums that I can listen to from beginning to end and know I'll forget many.

I'm hoping it will get you to consider the same.

I'll also add, as always, that this is all subjective. I've grown over time. Some albums are here that wouldn't have been here at one time while others have fallen. Tastes change.

The world has lost the art of the album to a large extent and I suppose that makes the question -- asked by Eric Alper on X (Twitter) so pertinent to me.

The album still matters in its own way, much as batting average does to a segment of sports fans. It matters in its own place, I suppose.

Is Pet Sounds by the Beach Boys in this category? To some, yes. Where others might pick a different Rolling Stones album, such as Exile on Main Street, I'd pick Let it Bleed, which finds the Stones in an interesting time before the insane excess of the 70s.

The Globe Sessions by Sheryl Crow remains a deeply important album to me and I spun it from beginning to end just recently, inspired by the documentary of her that I watched. Radiohead's The Bends and OK Computer take me back to the turn of the millennium.

Then there are what one might find as difficult choices. Making Movies by Dire Straits is a fantastic album but ends with a bit of a clunker in the song "Les Boys." It's a song that I don't automatically bypass given it's the last song. But if lyrics rattle you then you're best to skip it. "Run For Your Life" at the end of Rubber Soul is another song that can produce eye rolls.

I wouldn't be true to myself if I didn't also include two Pink Floyd entries: The Dark Side of the Moon and Wish You Were Here. Both just go places and, at least for me, are an excuse to check out (and no, that doesn't involve any herbal assistance to do so). But Floyd can also be polarizing between often being overplayed and Roger Waters' sheer narcissism.

Duke by Genesis, almost inarguably the best and the peak of their post-Peter Gabriel era work, is an excellent listen. While I overall prefer the art rock of the Gabriel days, Duke is solid from end to end.

I must also throw in Tapestry by Carole King. An album that came out in 1971, I feel like my sister raised me on The Beatles and this record, and fifty-two years later, it stands up as great as ever.

So if it's Rumours by Fleetwood Mac or something else, an album is meant to be a journey. The concept album mostly began with Frank Sinatra's work on Capitol Records in the 1950s, with In the Wee Small Hours being a masterpiece. For the record, one wants to check on a friend who is playing his Only the Lonely record for what I think are obvious reasons. 

In the live album department, Sinatra at the Sands is basically perfection. One might groan at the spoken  "Tea Break" segment but I find it to be a comedy act from a museum. Also basically perfect is Johnny Cash's At Folsom Prison.

So I'm quite certain I'll press "publish" on this and regret not mentioning some album that I enjoy every piece of.

I hope -- even if you don't say what it is -- you'll consider some options of your own as we give the art form of the album some well-earned respect.

Thankful

 

The food is consumed.

Turkey, stuffing, cornbread, and so on. Of course, earlier in the day I had bacon, egg, and cheese with chili on a roll.

That's Thanksgiving, 2023, friends.

It started early. 

Way too early.

It wasn't The Cat's fault.

It was mine, as my body elected to wake up around 3:30 and not let me get back to sleep.

I tried. Oh, I tried, before giving up.

But I was ready and we were out the door just after 7:15.

We went to Greenwich High School and the day was a cold one.

So we waited for the breakfast sandwiches to finish cooking and chatted with friends.

Chris Erway, Sean, and I were chilly but content. Thanksgiving is such a great day for quality games, potential payoff clinching, seeing returning alums, and food, of course. It would truly be a shame if Connecticut eliminated such a great tradition.

We headed to Cardinal Stadium and ran into GHS athletic director Peter Georgiou who made sure our booth got unlocked. Once inside, we got the heat fired up and worked on setting up.

That didn't take long and I'm thrilled.

On the field, we chatted with coaches, went through storylines of note, and were ready to go on the air by 9:50 a.m.

There's something about the Thanksgiving broadcast that, unless there are complete disasters, are among the best of the year.

Chris and I felt sharp. We felt strong.

We felt like "The A-Team."

On the field, well, Greenwich played their worst game of the year. Everything is fixable going into the playoffs, but the Wreckers walked out of Greenwich with a 24-13 victory.

Both teams will be in action next Tuesday night as the playoffs begin. For Greenwich, they'll be at home to (likely) play Stamford. The Black Knights are a great story as they have not been to the playoffs since 1995. 

Give me all of that.

We'll get the official playoff word tomorrow. Plus I'll be back at GHS for the GYFL Graduation Bowl. Game time is 10:30 so I hope you'll join me for the broadcast on Robcasting.

Following today's game, Sean and I went to my sister's for Thanksgiving. Other members of the family were on hand for food and laughs and throwing a football around.

While I'm traditionally a holiday party pooper, I'll admit that's mostly due to the stress of the circumstances. There was none of that today.

It was loose, fun, and comfortable. That's all I can ask.

It's nice to feel a level of blessed about family. It's nice to feel loved.

We also had a great conversation on things that were the best and worst of the last year. The answers were intriguing.

We're home now and while I have football on I'm ready for sleep.

There will be more football tomorrow.

Fifty-Five Alive

 

Well, we've made it.

On an icy Friday morning 55 years ago, Nancy Adams brought her third child into the world.

I was named for my father, and I am proud to carry that.

The number 55 has been one of the many quirks about me. It became a thing when I was five and I discovered I could never wear it for the Yankees. It had been retired in honor of some guy named Joe DiMaggio.

So it was when I was trying to find a name for this little corner of the internet back in 2006. I remembered my love of roads and my favorite number. As such, "Exit 55" was born.

Today was spent in a mostly quiet way, hanging out with two of the people who mattered the most to me, including Sean.

We had lunch and fought traffic to get home.

I didn't do "Doubleheader" so it was an easy day.

It was interesting in that I kept having to remind myself that it was, actually, my birthday. Perhaps years of downplaying it made me forget about it.

It's better to take that approach as it's, in reality, not a big deal. Plus building up expectations only creates a foundation for potential disappointment.

So I'll take today as it happened, thanks.

I received texts, phone calls, and social media greetings.

I thank everyone for their kindness.

As for gifts, I'm long past those days. The gifts to me were the presence of loved ones and laughter. Of food and drinks. Of living to see another day.

And a cupcake.

The food didn't have to be Waffle House, as the closest location is two hours away.

We'll get there again soon.

No, the simplicity of chicken parm -- perhaps my favorite thing of all -- was enough for me.

Because it, you know, tastes so good. At least that's what Peyton Manning says and I agree with him.

(Photo: Newsday)

Thus for the next 365 days, I get to be that number that has been so close to me since I was five. The number of athletes -- including a World Series MVP (Hideki Matsui) -- and roads and pop culture references.

And the number of this blog.

We turn towards 56 now. 

We also turn towards Thanksgiving in a few hours. Yes, I'll enjoy the family time and the food, but I also very much enjoy the tradition of football games, including Staples/Greenwich tomorrow at Cardinal Stadium.

Listen to us at 9:50 am on WGCH, Robcasting, and Hulu. 

Both teams are among the best in the state and we'll give you a good show on the air.

There will be a new 55-year-old on the play-by-play.

Hopefully, somewhere his parents are proud of him.

I'll say this: I'm blessed to have amazing friends who are like family and amazing family as well. I'm a person who has done everything to be authentic, which is both a blessing and a curse.

I am what I am, I suppose.

Good and bad. but, hopefully, mostly good.

Onto Thanksgiving.

But I'm thankful for today.

Blame Canada

 

Former Steelers Offensive Coordinator Matt Canada

I've never been one to want to see people lose their jobs.

Even as a manager, I've given people multiple chances before terminating. Maybe that's a failure of mine but I'm not quick to give up on people.

But I'll admit I wasn't heartbroken to see Matt Canada let go as offensive coordinator of the Pittsburgh Steelers today.

If anything, I felt relief.

The fear in such moves has always been about "what's next?"

I hear about firing Yankees manager Aaron Boone all the time. The same with Brian Cashman.

And, yet, what happens after they're let go? Who replaces them? Who makes things better?

Casey Stengel isn't walking into Yankee Stadium anytime soon.

I've always felt like this. Eradicating one problem doesn't mean the replacement won't be worse. I've seen it happen too many times.

The grass isn't always greener.

The Steelers' consistency in terms of their head coaches has always been a source of comfort for fans. 

Bill Austin was the Steelers coach when I was born. He didn't exactly hold up the standard of Vince Lombardi. Since then, there have been three coaches: Chuck Noll (1969-1991), Bill Cowher (1992-2006), and Mike Tomlin (2007-present).

There have also been six Lombardi trophies since 1969.

Of course, there are those who have felt each one of those coaches had seen their time come and go. Tomlin is the latest to be on the fringe of the hot seat, but those are often the fans who are never happy.

Tomlin, like many, would basically have a job within days of leaving.

This all being said, Matt Canada needed to go. Simply put the culture of Steelers football was deteriorating by the day.

Teams simply can't fire a coach due to the whim of fans. It's a bad precedent to set.

Yet, this was next-level bad.

The Fire Canada movement had been in full form since last season when most thought he wouldn't return.

Then he was back for 2023 and I think most fans knew it was going to get worse.

But I have to imagine that Mike Tomlin and the Steelers front office felt they could make it work. Also, they probably didn't have a better option.

Maybe now they do (in the interim, they'll utilize other coaches in the organization to run the offense).

Or, more likely, they simply realized the situation became untenable, especially after a dangerously lifeless performance against their hated rivals from Cleveland.

They were, in short, losing the locker room, and, in sports, the players rule the day.

So Canada had to go.

The Pittsburgh Steelers were 5-3 going into Sunday in a division that is very close. Their 13-10 loss to the Browns was pretty bad.

More than anything, it was glaring at their deficiencies on offense, with a second-year quarterback who needs to make or break.

Maybe there is some grand plan. Maybe they'll patch it together to get through the rest of the 2023 season.

Of course, the Steelers aren't winning the Super Bowl this year but that doesn't mean they can't try.

Count this as a rare time when a coach needed to be terminated.

It was a mercy firing for all involved.

*****

In my continued pursuit of sleep, I put curtains up in my room today.

Honestly, window dressings weren't a priority here but getting some peace at night is.

You see, The Cat likes to chase shadows at night. Given we live on a fairly main street, lights move as cars drive by.

Those lights -- the shadows -- often appear in a few places. Among them are next to my bed and above my desk.

To that end, I've piled pillows on the desk to keep Rascal from doing his thing while I tried to sleep.

Of course, he calms down during the middle of the night because traffic is quiet, so nobody is passing by.

So combine that with his being hungry, and the fun begins early in the morning.

Thus I'm giving these curtains a try. I had them in Mahopac, in part, to help keep my bedroom there warm.

Now they'll hopefully keep our room dark.

And my nights peaceful.

So I've added a loveseat and I'm breaking out my inner interior designer.

What's next?

My Spot

 

As I wrote yesterday, I got a loveseat courtesy of my cousin.

Suddenly, our apartment feels a lot more like a home.

Look, it's been our place for nearly 18 months and we've been very happy here.

Yet, to be honest, I didn't sit in the living room a lot. Occasionally, yes.

I love my Ikea chair but I often felt we were missing something. 

I can be the type to crash on the couch while watching TV, or come out to the couch in the middle of the night when I couldn't sleep. Admittedly I haven't done that in years.

But more than the comfort factor, it felt like we really couldn't host anyone.

Not that people have busted the door down to come visit but still.

When Sean and I had my cousin Kris over for the Super Bowl, we used the Ikea chair, my office chair, and an ottoman from Sean's room. It worked and no one complained.

We'd do something similar if we were watching a movie. It was fine.

Still, it just felt weird.

So I looked into couch ideas. A full-sized one would have been too big for the space. I thought a futon might be the way to go or some kind of sleeper. Kris used an air mattress when he stayed over the night before we flew to Florida. For the record, he was fine.

But when Kourtney posted this loveseat (and Susan saw it online) it was hard to say no.

I sat in it not long after Kris and Danny left yesterday and put football on TV.

And, not long after dinner, I fell asleep, curled up with the cat in his bed nearby.

The loveseat has made the room somehow feel more complete. Maybe it's even made it feel like a "real" living room.

Even tonight, I have the TV on and am sitting out here while the Eagles and Chiefs play.

There was a point yesterday where I looked in the living room and smiled. I felt proud.

I felt the same thing this morning when I walked out of my bedroom.

This has been our home. No question about it.

Yet there it is more comfortable now.

Come visit us.

Just be aware I might be asleep.

That's Better

 

Carmel (in blue) celebrates their win over Shenendehowa

So I wrote about a broadcast performance that wasn't up to my standards. I thought I wasn't sharp on Friday night and posted about it yesterday.

The reaction went, basically, as I expected.

The bigger thing that I wanted to note was that, despite what I thought was a subpar Friday, I wasn't rattled. I've had those days.

Those tend to be a bit dark.

It beats my confidence. Heck, I remember the six months or so when I wasn't sure that I even knew how to broadcast baseball anymore. Imagine that from me? But, yes, that happened.

Friday was just a dip. Yes, my standards are high and I was disappointed. But I didn't drive home depressed Friday night. I didn't doubt that I'd jump right back on the horse on Saturday. It was meant to be a reminder that, despite whatever standards we set, put it in the rearview mirror.

Move on. Simple enough.

And so I returned to Mahopac High School bright and early on Saturday morning for two more regional football games.

I decided to hit the road some four hours before kickoff to get to the Pac and relax. 

To that end, I took a longer way to get there so I could come into town from a different angle. Moments later, I was at Crossroads Deli at the fork of U.S. 6 and NY 6N.

To many of us, that's the old Rodak's but I digress.

I grabbed my egg and cheese there and drove to the high school, parking again at the middle school.

I ate in the car before walking up to the booth that was already open.

The great thing was, despite no one knowing me, I was able to just walk in each day and set up with no questions asked.

OK, none until an O'Neill football assistant coach tried to throw me out of the booth. I was literally about to go on the air plus the jack I needed to send audio to LocalLive was in that room, so the answer was no.

He wasn't happy and apparently, he did the same last year to a news reporter in a different booth. In that case, he even closed the reporters' computer. 

In this case, fortunately, he went to the roof and that was that.

In the end, his team beat Bronxville 17-7 and advanced to the semifinals. 

In the nightcap, Carmel (playing on the turf of their hated rival) advanced to the semis with a 28-14 win over Shenendehowa from north of Albany.

I just sat in my (cold) booth, acting as a doorman for the myriad types who came up to a (locked) door and called the games.

I called both games with more comfort than I did on Friday. That doesn't mean I'm happy but I walked away feeling better about my performance.

On Friday, I felt like I needed a partner to settle me down.

On Saturday, I was back to feeling more like myself, despite working completely alone. Even Sean chose to stay home.

So we turn the page.

I packed up and headed out with a smile on my face as I strolled the grounds that I've walked so many times.

I drove away with my head held a bit higher.

Of the greatest relief to me, my voice survived everything. A head cold like the one I had can sometimes result in problems. My father used to get a horrible gravelly voice with certain colds, so thanks, Dad.

In this case, I was fine.

I have a few days before the next call, and it's a big one. Staples from Westport comes to Cardinal Stadium on Thursday morning. Always a big crowd and often a great game.

It's one of my favorite broadcasting days of the year.

The playoffs follow.

A day like Friday can serve a positive purpose. It helps me remain humble and hungry. It also helps me focus.

Then a day like Saturday happens and all is pretty well again.

I appreciate the support.

I just needed to vent, I guess.

*****

I'm now writing from a loveseat.

In my living room.

After nearly 18 months of only having my Ikea chair in the, my cousin Kourtney has given us a comfy loveseat.

She had put it online to sell it and when I expressed an interest, she told me it was mine.

We're overwhelmed by her kindness. Of course, her cousin (and, sadly, Danny*) delivered it here today.

A great reminder of family.

*OK, Danny, we're kidding. Sort of.

I'll Be Better

 

Good morning from my beloved Hudson Valley.

OK, specifically, Mahopac.

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

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

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

It's my pleasure to be here.

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

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

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

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

And, well, Sean gets it.

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

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

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

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

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

The scriptwriters often aren't fair.

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

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

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

So why did I, frankly, suck?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Old Timers and Sideline Reporters

 

Chris Erway and Sean Adams in the Hilton Stamford Ballroom

The Greenwich Old Timers Awards Dinner has come and gone.

Congratulations to the honorees and may we do it again next year.

Despite the hustle at the last minute to pull everything together, I think -- think -- it went well.

My first time as master of ceremonies went sort of smoothly, but perhaps I'm just having a foggy memory.

I considered it a huge honor to stand there and I was reminded more than a few times about the shoes I was stepping into.

The goal for me is to make everyone happy, especially those who put me in this position. Based on the reactions I received, I think we did OK.

Having Sean and Chris Erway there was a nice touch, with Chris sitting on the dais and Sean in the audience.

I enjoyed meeting new faces and reconnecting with faces I hadn't seen in weeks, months, years, or even days.

Reviews were kind and I'm grateful.

The one thing that I think helps me is that I'm hellbent on keeping an event moving. Attendees appreciate that. I'm mindful that people begin to squirm and get uncomfortable and I've been to some marathon Old Timers dinners.

Another thing that needs to be done is to get the crowd to quiet down. Whether it's business people in San Francisco or townies in Greenwich, it's essentially all the same. In those moments, I get to be a bit of a wise guy as I try to subdue the noise.

In the case of opening the ceremonies, I did something subtle. After several efforts to silence everyone, I simply introduced the color guard. Nothing like marching policemen carrying the American flag to get a crowd to pipe down.

Seconds later, we had peace, followed by the Melody Men singers performing the National Anthem.

From there, the night went about as well as it could.

At least I still think so.

It was a huge honor and I was still buzzing a bit when Chris, Sean, and I stopped by a Stamford watering hole to toast a successful night.

I think I earned another shot next year.

*****

What was Charissa Thompson thinking?

Was she just trying to be funny?

You see, it's 2023 and the media is pretty heavy scrutiny, if you haven't heard.

The past several years have seen a collection of heavily biased reporting. Those calling themselves journalists are often too focused on being first versus being accurate.

Combine those things and it's a nightmare for those of us who still try to maintain dignity and integrity.

But then there's Charissa telling a podcast that, as a sideline reporter, she would make things up.

Here's the quote: "I would make up the report sometimes because the coach wouldn’t come out at halftime, or it was too late and I didn’t want to screw up the report. So I was like, ‘I’m just gonna make this up.’

A simple Google search of Thompson's will not only produce a list of stories about this but also the level of vitriol she is receiving today.

It's extremely damaging to the sports reporting business but it's especially damning to women broadcasters for reasons that shouldn't need explaining.

But, especially as sideline reporters, women are looked at (unfairly) as "eye candy" producing reports to little value. Look, I think in-game reports are largely useless but they're not going away. Coaches tend to loathe them. We've even done them on WGCH and HAN back in the day.

Returning to the women in the business who have done sideline reporting, I can name quite a few who are actually fantastic. Holly Rowe, Doris Burke (who used to do sideline hits), Pam Oliver, Meredith Marakovits, and Michele Tafoya (before she quit to jump into political commentary) are among those I think of, but there are so many more.

And I'll put Suzyn Waldman's reporting instincts right up there as well.

Erin Andrews was once at the top of the profession and has returned to a high standard, working on the top team with FOX Sports.

There are others, of course, and I'm certainly not trying to diminish anyone.

Look, I know part of Thompson's thing is being quirky and funny. She does a humorous podcast with Andrews that humanizes both of them. That can be a good thing.

But, in this case, it was bad because it hurt the industry.

There are enough people in this industry with low standards and zero integrity. Thankfully we occasionally weed a few of them out.

Thompson will do some kind of damage control (and likely so will her employers) but the blowback has been fierce.

It's bad for women.

It's sad for all of us.

*****

Maintaining whatever shred of integrity I can maintain, I'm going back to Mahopac today, on the call for two New York State Regionals.

- Haldane and Burke Catholic at 4 p.m. in Class D.

- Somers and Averill Park at 7 p.m. in Class A.

It will be nice to be back at my old high school. The video broadcasts will be on the NFHS Network.

And the audio only will be where you expect to find it.

Be Quick (and Save My Voice)

 

Stamford Hilton ballroom

The Greenwich Old Timer's awards banquet is tonight in Stamford.

A year after being told I'd be the master of ceremonies/Toastmaster, I'm here to say that I'm officially just that.

So, I'm hurrying to put a speech together including a toast and any other necessary comments.

I'm stepping in for Mark Yusko, who only hosted the last 32 times. So, hey, no pressure replacing a guy who is a well-connected Greenwich "townie" with a guy who moved to Greenwich 18 months ago and works in Greenwich. But, otherwise, was a lifelong New Yorker.

But I learned a ton watching Mark host in previous years and have also learned plenty from my own work with softball banquets for Altria, sports banquets here in Greenwich, and the now-many I have hosted for Hunt Scanlon.

Like doing play-by-play, it's important to keep things entertaining and moving. Also, the ability to adjust on the fly is important. Sure, there's a script. Sure, there's preparation, but changes happen.

It's also important that I don't attach myself to John Filippelli of the YES Network, who is among the honorees tonight.

"So, hey, um, do you have any openings for a play-by-play guy?"

No. Bad Rob. Don't do that!

In the meantime, the speech is continuing to be written, I'm currently getting the wrinkles out of my shirt, making lunch and, oh yeah, preparing to record a Hunt Scanlon podcast at 2 p.m.

Of course. Because I'm me.

We won't even get into how I've been asked to pull together a report to air on WGCH tomorrow. Nah. Let's leave that tidbit right there.

This is a good challenge and I'm certainly a bit anxious or, dare I say, nervous. That's because these are good nerves as I've explained many times. It's the nerves of wanting to do a good job, especially in a new role.

But, regardless of how many times I've done this, there is still a pit in my stomach when I step to the microphone for Hunt Scanlon. No matter how prepared I am and no matter how many times I've reviewed the script, there's still bound to be something.

Or the audience is difficult to settle down. That's an Old Timer's tradition and I've learned handling that from watching Mark.

So, more to do. Maybe more to say tomorrow.

Oh, and about tomorrow, it will be a busy one. I've been asked to call the regional football games in New York State at Mahopac High School. I've pulled the rosters together and (think) I'm ready for the first game at 4 p.m. as Burke Catholic plays Haldane.

Then it's Averill Park and Somers at 7 p.m.

Then, on Saturday it's O'Neill and Bronxville at noon, followed by Shenendehowa and Carmel at 3 p.m.

All on NFHS (and wherever you get your Rob content).

Keep your fingers crossed that my voice survives.

Hump Day

Guess what day it is!

 Can one have a case of the Wednesdays?

We know that in the classic cult movie "Office Space" the term "a case of the Mondays" became part of the lexicon.

But a case of the Wednesdays?

Let's be honest, it's simply a question of being glum. Or, worse, in a bad mood. Beyond that, you have the blues or something else.

My heart isn't into today.

Despite whatever forces pull at me, I know my mind is elsewhere.

And that's the part that bugs me.

I know who I am and where I belong.

And yet I'm here. With a sleeping cat.

Later, I'll be in Mount Kisco for another delightful edition of "The Clubhouse."

I'm passing on "Doubleheader" today because, honestly, I need my voice tomorrow night and then Friday and Saturday.

I know I mentioned that my throat hurt on Sunday night. Well, let's say the sore throat was the beginning of a head cold.

It's not what you want, especially when your voice is your calling card.

I'm gargling salt water, taking Fishermans Friend throat drops, medicine, blah blah blah.

I'm resting. That is, at least when the phone isn't ringing.

And I'm working without stressing myself. 

That's best for me.

These are the types of days where I just need to keep my head down and survive. 

Then survive tomorrow.

And so on.

*****

I'm back home from "The Clubhouse." We had another good show and the team, especially Mark Jeffers, said how happy they were that I was there.

I still have a voice. I'll need it through Saturday night.

I felt I belonged elsewhere but sometimes the road leads us to different places.

In this case, the road is blocked.

So, doing what I thought was best, I stayed home and went to the show.

But if you know me then you know.

And that's all I have to say about that.

Four Awful Days

 

I recently finished watching a three-part documentary about the assassination of President John F. Kennedy.

It's called JFK: One Day in America and it's streaming on Disney+.

It documents the day of the assassination and some of the events that followed.

Of course, this Nov 22 -- next Wednesday -- marks 60 years since it all unfolded.

I've always felt a connection to it because Nov 22 happens to be my birthday, for the zero that is worth.

Still, I've never been quite able to comprehend it.

You're watching a soap opera (As the World Turns on CBS) or a sitcom repeat (Bachelor Father on WNBC-TV in New York) or a home show (on WFAA in Dallas).

You're listening to music or talk on the radio.

Then someone breaks in with a bulletin.

Literally, in a finger snap, everything has changed. 

Everything.

It's 1:40 p.m. EST when Walter Cronkite comes on, with only a CBS News slate and no picture. He reads the release that many read that day.

"Here is a bulletin from CBS News. In Dallas, Texas, three shots were fired at President Kennedy's motorcade in downtown Dallas. The first reports say that President Kennedy has been seriously wounded by this shooting..."

He does, after repeating the bulletin, add that United Press International said that the wounds might be fatal.

At that point, that's about it, at least for the rest of the country. In Dallas, of course, it is pure chaos. The fairly popular 35th president has been shot after having been in an open-top convertible. He has been very accessible, shaking hands with as many people as he and the first lady can. Kennedy, of course, was beginning to campaign for his reelection in 1964.

He wasn't quite as popular in Texas but the reaction to his visit is nothing short of a lovefest.

Then the shots rang out at 12:30 p.m. in Dallas (1:30 in New York).

I've taught about the coverage of the president many times in my segment on breaking news. For the U.S.  media, 11/22/63 was literally the dawn of modern television news. Of course, there was no internet so no social media (and no blogs).

It was radio, television, and newspapers.

And it was all happening so fast.

Cronkite would return to lead the CBS coverage, famously taking off his glasses at 2:38 p.m. EST and clearing his throat as he choked up when announcing the president's death.

On NBC, Chet Huntley is presenting when Bill Ryan -- literally pulled from the hallway to join the crew on TV -- reads the statement that JFK has died. Frank McGee then takes a phone call from reporter Robert MacNeil in Dallas to confirm the horrible news.

Initially, McGee has to repeat MacNeil's words because the audio isn't coming across. Eventually, you hear MacNeil followed by McGee's repeating him.

Chaos.

On WGBH radio in Boston, conductor Erich Leinsdorf is at the stand with the Boston Symphony Orchestra when he pauses to announce the news.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have a press report over the wires. We hope that it is unconfirmed, but we have to doubt it. The president of the United States has been the victim of an assassination. We will play the funeral march from Beethoven’s Third Symphony."

The crowd gasped and sobbed. The audio is incredibly shocking and compelling. Thankfully so many of the broadcasts of that day are preserved on YouTube and elsewhere.

I still recall one broadcast that tried to play music and didn't have it properly cued up, no doubt the person at the turntable was shaking, and understandably so.

But one thing is clear: the anchors and reporters on duty were fantastic. Many decry our current media and perhaps they did the same at that time. But their stoicism -- save for Cronkite's brief hesitation -- is admirable. I often wonder how I would handle it.

Sadly, we know there have been attempts and assassinations over the many years of the office of President. Obviously, getting close to the person -- whoever he (or she) is -- has thankfully become next to impossible.

Though I suppose that's a shame as well, given many simply just want to shake a hand.

The Secret Service agents on duty that day are still impacted greatly by what happened.

So are the news reporters and onlookers.

President Kennedy was only 46 and, love them or hate them, his family has certainly known a remarkable share of very public tragedies.

I can't imagine what that day was like but everyone says they know where they were when it happened. 

I know where I was. I didn't exist yet but I'd be born five years later to the day.

I suppose this post is a long-winded way of saying the documentary was very compelling.

From the early steps of that Friday through the murder of Officer J. D. Tippit to the swearing-in of President Johnson to Lee Harvey Oswald being arrested and charged to the public viewing of President Kennedy's casket to the murder of Oswald by Jack Ruby and, finally, to the funeral of JFK on Monday.

Four days in which TV literally screeched to a halt and went, essentially, wire to wire before resuming local programming.

A fascinating and, probably, scary time as well. For those of us who didn't experience it, perhaps the events of Sep 11, 2001, can possibly be compared in terms of impact.

I encourage you to watch the documentary as well as the myriad footage and audio clips that are available from that time.

Watch as innocence disappears and as how we cover news on TV changes in an instant.

And may we never know anything like it again.

The Pizza Had to be Just Right

 

I mean, wow

I want to tell you a story.

About pizza.

It was Nov 1, 2014, and I was going to have some of the best pizza I've ever had in my life.

That's what I was promised.

But first, there was work to be done.

I don't do a lot well but I can broadcast some sports to a certain degree of satisfaction. I've often felt that, whenever I can, I like to give that to those who might not get such coverage. Thus, having gotten to know Susan over the previous year, she had told me about her brother, who was the coach of St. Peter's Boys High School on her native Staten Island.

At the time, we were just about a year into what was now known as HAN Radio. I thought it would be cool if we could find an open slot and go call one of her brother Mark's games.

We agreed on an end-of-the-regular-season matchup between St. Peter's (aka "Peetahs" in a Staten Island accent) and St. Joseph-by-the-Sea (aka "Sea"). In return, Susan promised us the pizza to end all pizzas.

Initially, it was a running gag. This Staten Island pizza was going to top all of my beloved pizzas?

Better than Sal's in Mamaroneck or L&B in Brooklyn or Patsy's in Harlem or the Connecticut pizzas that I constantly hear about?

Susan believed it would hold its own. Thus I trusted her and the gag ended.

But there was another gag: joking about her father. I half-joked that if I didn't bring an excellent broadcast or -- worse -- if Peetahs lost, would I be sleeping with the fishes?

I was told that Susan and Mark's dad was nothing like that. He wouldn't be intimidating me or the crew at all.

However, her mother might have something to say.

The night before the game, Chris Erway and I called Darien and Wilton football in Wilton, CT. In honor of Craig Sager, the longtime sports reporter known for his garish suits, Chris and I dressed like him for Halloween. Susan and her daughters stopped by the booth to say hello as they went around town to trick or treat.

We finished the game and I went back to the HAN Radio studio, then situated in Ridgefield. Having been stressed out a bit that day, I enjoyed the peace of a Friday night in the office editing audio for the opening and closing of Saturday's game. It would be a New York-centric broadcast featuring music and references that made Staten Island so wonderful and so misunderstood.

On Saturday, I began driving in heavy rain. I was also way ahead of schedule as I crossed the Goethals Bridge.

A short time later, I was at St. Peter's and began nosing around the locked press box. Chris Erway and John Kovach would be along later to round out our broadcast team.

Eventually, of all things, I was invited inside the Christian Brothers' 1859 house to have coffee with the priests. They were all intrigued by the stranger from the northern New York suburbs who was there to broadcast their football game.

I can't stress enough, of all the things for me to do, but I was way ahead of Chris and John. For Chris, this was also a personal trip as his in-laws, as his father-in-law was a St. Peter's alum. They were coming in from New Jersey for the game.

I was given a tour of the school and eventually connected with St. Peter's head coach Mark DeCristoforo. Soon, Mark, Chris, John, and I were sitting at a table discussing strategy and game plans. Few coaches had ever been so open and accommodating.

We set up in the booth, did a long pregame show to review football back in Connecticut, and then opened the Peetahs/Sea game broadcast.

The people in the booth seemed fascinated by us and the way Chris and I -- with John on the field -- bounced off each other.

I got to meet Susan's dad -- "The Godfather" -- when she brought him up to the booth and joined us on the air.

The broadcast was, frankly, about as good as possible. St. Peter's won 35-28 and the postgame pizza was on.

I felt great about what we had done. Even now, I feel tremendous pride when reminded of that day.

Chris and John both passed on the pizza invitation, which was to take place around the corner at Susan's aunt's house.

Nervously, I drove there, parked, and knocked on the door that, apparently, was never used.

Susan's Aunt Kathy greeted me. Within minutes I realized I wished that this wonderful woman was my aunt.

Received warmly by all, I finally met Susan's mom.

Jane.

Lovely and radiant, especially thanks to the St. Peter's victory, she made sure I was welcomed and comfortable.

Eventually, The Godfather came in with the pizza.

Finally, I would have my chance to enjoy Joe & Pat's, one of the definitive Staten Island pizza experiences.

But, despite my hunger, the pizza would not be coming my way just yet.

Jane spoke up.

Apparently buoyed by the win and the stranger who had brought radio fame to her son, she accounted that I -- this broadcaster dude -- could not have Joe & Pat's in its current state.

You see, friends, it took a few minutes to get the pizza to the house, and it wasn't the right temperature.

Immediately, the oven was opened, the pizza went in, and I was instructed to be patient.

Not long after that, it was food time. 

Jane, her sister Aunt Kathy (and Susan) wouldn't dream of me doing what I normally do, which is linger behind and let others get food. I was pushed forward to grab the heavenly slice.

Rarely -- and I mean this -- have I ever anticipated a bite so much. What could it possibly be like?

I put my faith in Susan, who knew what she was talking about.

It was phenomenal. It stands among the best I've ever had.

I pondered eating the entire pie.

I thought Chris and John were nuts for bailing.

I questioned most of the decisions I've ever made in my life.

I ate while sitting at a kitchen table with various members of Susan's family, sitting near her father as well, who I got to know as the night went along.

Everyone there asked about me, the broadcasts, and so on but, eventually, I faded into the fabric of the evening. It was like being among family and that's as special a feeling as I know.

The rest of the night featured laughter, more aunts, cousins, and uncles, and a selfie with Susan's oldest daughter, Lucy. 

I made the long drive home feeling overjoyed for the new friends I'd made and the pizza that had to be just right.

While somewhat embarrassed I was very touched that Jane cared so much about the pizza for me. Susan told me that was special treatment and like I said, I was slightly embarrassed but also honored.

I tell you this story for the sad reason that the world lost Jane DeCrisoforo on Saturday morning. A beautiful and fascinating woman, she married Chris ("The Godfather") and raised Susan, Amy, Mark, and Megan.

They're a wonderful family who are devastated.

As I've said many times, some stories aren't mine to tell. Susan wrote an eloquent obituary and I'm sure many more words will flow from her.

This is the one story I can share -- my one encounter with Jane.

Susan was a rock to me when Nancy died three years ago.

I'm here for the DeCristoforo family. So is Sean.

We raise a pint to a true Irish beauty who, like my own mother, will always remembered by me for pizza.

I'm so glad I had that one meeting with Jane (no, I didn't call her that to her face).

And that she'd welcome me back to cover St. Peter's sports.

So long as they didn't lose.