Mr. Spielberg, Here's the Story

 

Once upon a time...

No, don't do that. It's too hokey. The scriptwriters will never buy it.

Oh, OK. Let's set that scene.

A kid grows up in the New York suburbs. He has little to no athletic ability but loves sports. He loves broadcasting. He is fascinated by it. He spends time watching and listening to all the games on all the channels. Radio and TV. He loves the Yankees. Frank Messer, Bill White, Phil Rizzuto. Eventually, Bobby Murcer -- his boyhood hero -- becomes a broadcaster.

He watches college football on ABC with Keith Jackson. Monday Night Football with Howard, Frank, and Dandy Don, and that evolves with Al Michaels. Watches the Rangers and Islanders. He is taken with Jiggs McDonald. Marv Albert, of course, looms large for all of his work. Over on CBS, the kid watches Summerall and Madden. Brent and "The NFL Today," of course. Also on CBS is a baseball announcer, calling football and golf. What's his name again? Oh, Scully, that's right. Let's put a pin in that.

Because Scully would head to NBC to do "Game of the Week." 

The kid has opinions and studies all of this. And it is his opinion that NBC is the place.

The National Broadcasting Company. Founded in 1926 as a radio network. It is at the forefront of TV in the 30s. Pauses for the war in the 40s before putting the World Series on the air in 1947.

It is the home of not only Vin Scully but, at one time or another, Bob Costas, Red Barber, Mel Allen, Curt Gowdy, Charlie Jones, Don Criqui, Joe Garagiola, Tony Kubek, Mike "Doc" Emrick, and so many other great broadcasters that put their stamp on the air at the "Peacock Network."

And of special note is the work of Dick Enberg, who, combined with Merlin Olsen, forms the most formidable football broadcast duo of the young man's life.

This, he tells his Connecticut School of Broadcasting class, is where he wants to be. Sure, he wants the Yankees also (he's not asking too much), but NBC is the place.

Life, of course, has other things are in store. He has to make money, so off to the corporate world he goes. He stays local to go to college, so he doesn't get that "big broadcasting school" pedigree that others look down on him for.

He doesn't have Syracuse or Missouri or Fordham. He has Westchester Community College and Western Connecticut State University.

There aren't the avenues now that there were then, but he's patient, and he grinds. 

He works in corporate America. He nearly gives up on school after the death of his father, but with Connecticut School of Broadcasting, he rebuilds himself.

A survivor, he is. A bit of an underdog, perhaps.

He gets a radio job and, except for a break in the 90s, goes on to have a 35-year career of broadcasting music, news, and everything else. It's a career in that it's part-time and full-time. It's a roller coaster.

Oh, and he does sports, of course, but yes, he literally does just about everything, including maintenance. Clean a plugged toilet at the station? Sure. Sleep on the floor after covering a major storm -- one he wasn't scheduled to work and didn't get paid a dime for? Uh huh.

There are a lot of stories like that. NBC Sports and the Yankees don't happen, and yet, he's kind of OK.

Somehow, this George Bailey sort of character feels he's reached a pinnacle because he works his tail off on every broadcast, bringing everything a professional feel with his own touches.

He doesn't need "the top level." He raised his son, survived a divorce, and dealt with life's other calamities. There are plenty of ups and downs. Heck, he even helped a newspaper company get a streaming broadcasting outlet off the ground before ego and power trips took over.

With friends worrying about his health, he leaves before the backstabbing gets worse.

He returns to work in Greenwich, at WGCH, where he's been for nearly three decades. A newspaper position in town doesn't quite work out (long story -- consider that for a sequel), but he builds a relationship with another school in town. Sure, he's called Greenwich High School broadcasts but now the Brunswick School wants him.

With that, he helps a streaming service called Bleachers. Well, that doesn't exactly fly, but it grows into LocalLive. With LocalLive, it feels like things will soar!

Well, there are bumps on that road. He gets shoved, nudged, and sometimes overlooked. That's business. 

In the meantime, a baseball position has opened in his native Hudson Valley, a Tampa Bay Rays minor league affiliate. He's worked there many times. It feels meant to be, and sure enough, he gets it! 

Then COVID cancels the season. No worries, he's told, the job is his next year. Oh, and the Hudson Valley team is changing affiliates...

to the New York Yankees.

Yes, in a small way, our guy is now a broadcaster for the Yankees.

Ah, but life. In a strange season, he works his tail off, calling every home game before being told that he'd be back the next year if it were up to his boss.

His boss leaves. Changes happen. What seems like a "no-brainer" ends with him no longer working for the team. He finds out he's out four days before Christmas, leading to a holiday spent alone, sitting on his couch.

Then they bring him back by asking him to be the public address announcer. Considering his son and other loved ones still work there, he goes back. He meets new friends, including one known as "Clicks" for his work on the Click Effects sound system.

Oh, wait, this story isn't over.

He battles with finances. His many jobs barely provide stability. His thought is always that he wants to keep a roof over the head of himself and his son.

That's a story that needs a finale.

But LocalLive is going through changes. He receives a phone call that indicates he still has that position, but it won't be called LocalLive anymore. LocalLive will migrate to a new company and a new name...

NBC SportsEngine Play.

He -- in a small way -- has made it to NBC Sports.

Scully. Enberg. Emrick. Costas.

Adams.

This story is too far-fetched.

-----

In no way do I think I'm really part of NBC Sports, any more than I feel that I'm part of ESPN, though I have been on ESPN+, or that I'm part of the Yankees. I don't work with Michael Kay, for instance, despite the wishes of my friends.

Yes, the financial realities still exist, and I'm trying to resolve them by getting one of these many "opportunities" to actually come to fruition. But through a certain amount of hard work and good fortune, I've achieved some of those lofty goals, even if they're on different terms. 

Later today, I'll call Brunswick and Suffield Academy football on NBC SportsEngine Play. I get chills every time I say it. 

My friend Mikey "Clicks" knows some of my journey and found a few things in his travels to celebrate this.

This is an NBC SportsEngine winter hat. Seems perfect for cold days in the Hartong Rink, as I call Brunswick hockey.

But he gave me something else that my inner NBC nerd screamed about.

This banner could have hung at Yankee Stadium or Three Rivers Stadium, or some arena with the heroes of my broadcasting youth. Honestly, I don't know, and I'd rather not ruin that fantasy. All I know is I found room in my apartment and it now hangs here, with profound thanks to Clicks for his thoughtful gift.

My story still has a long way to go and still has answers that I need to get. And again, I don't have "imposter syndrome" that makes me think I'm really a part of these organizations that have defined my career. I can't stress that enough. But, in some small way, I can claim a tiny piece of achieving my goals.

The story continues. May the sequel be even sweeter.

OK. Here.

 

So, yeah, it's been a minute.

Let's talk.

I stopped writing on a daily basis on Oct 27, 2024. In truth, the grind of life had gotten to me and I was ready to take a break. I went to San Francisco for business the next day and left my computer at home. I thought I'd come back quickly.

I've posted seven times since then.

If I may speak openly, like I did on my radio show today, let me say that the last year or so has been anything but easy. So, because of that, I didn't want to weigh this space down with daily notes about financial hardships, frustrations of life, depression, social media attacks, etc.

I tried to lean on a circle of people. They know who they are, and it was just that they were in the right place to get me to talk. 

There are, in short, a lot of things that have bothered me. The frustrations of (lack of) income have weighed heavily on me. I can't (and won't) begin to list things, but I've done too much for no money for one thing and, in other cases, too much that takes too long to get paid. That doesn't even begin to lead to the number of broken or empty promises.

There are myriad loose ends of life. Personally. Professionally. I often speak about wanting a home. I have an apartment and I enjoy it. I don't enjoy the downstairs showroom person complaining that we walk too loudly or, as she texted our landlord, "The son isn't the problem. It's him."

Him. He has a name. So does the son. We're not bad people. And we're also pretty quiet.

But when I talk about "home" it means a base. Like a place to make a living and have basic necessities and, dare I say, benefits.

Then, of course, I could have written every day about the "Mr. Toxic" thing. Phil (yup, many have asked and have figured it out) has made it a daily obsession to post something intended to rattle me. I've asked others to review and (yup) sent screenshots as well (Phil seems to be bothered by that). 

The reactions generally include, "Dude, he has it in for you," and "Wow. What's his problem?" I've tried to joke about the free rent I get in his brain, but I've also made it clear it wears on me. If he'd like to celebrate beating my mental health, well, huzzah. You win.

I spoke honestly. I've been depressed about stuff. I got further dumped on today.

And, look, I'm not innocent. With each post about Gary Cohen, Bob Wischusen, Sean McDonough, and his "hatred" of the Yankees, I'd eventually find a comeback. Sometimes, it was too much, and I do feel bad about that. I would also just step away for days and let him bloviate. 

He'd keep going.

Then he'd add professional digs. Recently, he made a comment about wanting daily, locally-produced sports talk in CT. Um...4pm, WGCH, right? Sure, I miss days, but we're there. 

There were also things sprinkled around a few other games. Enough that a fellow broadcaster had the marbles to message him privately about his comments.

Phil, of course, didn't respond.

That's all in addition to when he tried to embarrass me in a broadcasting group, not realizing I was in the group. I responded politely, hoping to open a dialogue. At one point, the post disappeared.

Otherwise, he never responded.

Sure, the easy answer is "block him." I'm already blocked. Heck, he blocked me on every outlet back in 2023 or whenever it was. He took down the recommendation he wrote for me on LinkedIn. He also removed the one I wrote for him, which he asked me to write.

He further methodically deleted every correspondence between us. I could see it as it was happening. Is this rational?

I thought we were, at best, friendly. And most of my friends know how to give and take. Chris Erway and I wouldn't be friends all these years if we couldn't handle disagreements. The same goes for Chris Kaelin. And others.

Again, I've made mistakes in this process. When Phil called broadcasters who don't prepare like him "lazy," I called it out. I further called him a "prep snob." I shouldn't have said it on WGCH, but I did. I thought, being a professional, he'd touch base, we'd yell, talk, laugh, etc, and move on.

That would be a no.

He's had other broadcasters come after me in various ways as well.

This war is stupid and unnecessary. I have my thoughts on him as a person, and I've had them for over 20 years. But I also appreciated the job tips he offered, how he told me I was too good for a broadcast I was on one night a bunch of years ago, and him asking me to sub for him on Bridgeport Sound Tigers broadcasts.

We disagree on a lot. Isn't that good? Isn't that how it should be?

I'm better because Chris Erway, for instance, challenged me on certain things. Because that always allowed me to think about my stance and whether or not I needed to adjust my thinking. I'm also better in that I don't get into every social media spat. I deplore politics on Facebook. I especially abhor posting about it obsessively.

I also detest that constant judgment. People think they know me. They don't really. Oh, there are a handful, but most don't understand the depth.

And I'm somewhat deep and slightly complex. At least I think so.

Today, I spoke openly on "Doubleheader." I'm sorry that Chris Saunders "caught a stray" in the process, and I was wrong about that. In my hurt, I know I went too far.

But I felt it was time to open up about things. This was all because Phil got hurt over "prep snob," which I actually said to take the grief away from someone else. That's the backstory that isn't known. I actually thought Phil would hear it from me, say, "Come on, Rob, why?" and we'd talk.

Instead, the bombs began getting lobbed. Most were meant to be harmless, with the hope that it would all stop.

It didn't.

And, moments ago, I noticed he posted one last "eff you" to me on Twitter. Instead of any and all avenues leading to a professional and appropriate conversation, he has decided to not double down, but go all-in.

Congrats, Phil. I discussed how openly you have impacted my mental health. To that, you don't care. You, frankly, aren't alone in that thought. How you think thats appropriate is beyond me.

I wish I had that kind of ego, but I also wish you had a hint of a sense of humor. Most people get it or we talk it out. 

You think you are this hyper-positive person, who frankly, passively either doesn't support others or dumps on them. That's why you're "toxic positivity."

Maybe one day you'll get it and we'll simply agree to disagree.

I truly hope that day isn't too late.

This, by the way, was his response via X/Twitter. He's all class. And, yes, I did a screenshot. Sorry, Phil.

February Made Me Shiver

The face of 2,000 games with a voice that is
hanging on by a thread

 The second month of 2025 has nearly passed by completely and I haven't written. I don't want you to forget about me!

In truth, my sojourn away from the blog has been emblematic of my needing a break more than I realized. The past few months -- if I can grab my seat on Oprah's couch -- haven't been easy.

I mean, I'm still here and so on, but telling you the stories of not making enough money or not working enough or not sleeping or worrying about paying the bills or about the entitled person downstairs complaining about how loudly we walk (seriously) or the usual social media nonsense would have been redundant and not very compelling.

So, I stopped. 

But, I also worked whenever and wherever I could. Doubleheader at the Westchester County Center? Cool. Five CYO basketball games on Long Island for no money but it beats sitting on the couch? Sweet. FCIAC's? Brunswick? Greenwich High? Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!

I'm going to do softball (!) in Pennsylvania this weekend and there are other things in the pipeline.

I suppose, if anything, in the "it's always darkest before the dawn" way, (hopefully) things are turning in the right direction. There's a glimpse of a light and now I have to reach it.

Sean turned 23 last Sunday and I've written so many words about him. He remains my greatest joy. I'm so proud of him and enjoy the time we spend together. We have a wonderful relationship as father and son (and roommates and colleagues). He's also, like me, a wise ass.

On Monday night, I broadcast my 2,000th sporting event -- Fairfield Ludlowe and Staples in the FCIAC boys basketball semifinal. I realize it is an achievement but I wasn't sure I would give it much thought other than mentioning it to a few people.

But then I pondered the many people I've worked with and those who have supported me and, once in a while, I need to promote myself a bit. So I thought I'd post something publicly, mostly, and be done with it. Yes, I'd acknowledge it somehow on the air and try not to get emotional.

If I'm being completely honest, I wanted the 2,000th to be a game that meant something. In other words, a baseball game would have been great. On WGCH also would have been important. So when it became apparent that it wouldn't be a Brunswick or Greenwich game, I was really happy to have it be Ludlowe and Warde, featuring two coaches who are friends of mine and two schools I have great respect for.

Some time back, another broadcaster bought a cake in honor of a milestone of his own. As that is completely not my style, I couldn't help but laugh. Shawn Sailer -- another wise guy -- kept it in mind and presented me with a picture of a cake to congratulate me when I called my 1,900th. I laughed. Hard. I updated it Monday morning before leaving.

Fast forward to Monday night. I knew Shawn would be at the game and wondered if he had anything up his sleeve. Turning serious for a moment, as we were talking, I wanted to thank him for his loyalty and unwavering support, but knew I couldn't say the words without getting emotional. I texted him instead. 

I also touched base with Susan and Chris Erway to thank them as well. There are so many others to thank who have kept me going. This business is not for the weak and there are many wanting to bring you down. I've highlighted them before and of course neither one of them acknowledged me this week.

Obviously, I thought of my parents and hoped they were proud. I've tried to carry the values they instilled, including standing at attention for the national anthem until the last note has concluded. I did that before tipoff and thought about the pride of this moment.

Then, it was time to work. Mike Buswell did color with me and he acknowledged the 2,000th game. For the most part, it was a non-factor otherwise. We called the game as Staples advanced to the FCIAC Championship.

There was nothing ceremonial about the night otherwise. There was no need. I did my job, thanked everyone, and went home. No need for a cake.

Tuesday came and went. I did some work and taught at CSB.

I came home around 11 last night and decided I wanted a seltzer before I went to bed.

I opened the fridge and, on the bottom shelf, I saw something.

A cake. A cheesecake. With a handwritten note on the outside of the package.

My son strikes again.

See, here's the thing. He's proud of his old man, sure. He even watched the game -- he never does that. He was incredibly supportive and I think the cake was meant in kindness.

But.

He also loves cheesecake. So it's a win-win for him.

And me.

And, nose to the grindstone, I'll be back on the mic tonight. I have a break tomorrow before more games on Friday and beyond. I've called 14 games in a week. Of course, I always want quality over quantity and I hope I've lived up to those standards. I've made friends and, sadly, lost some. I'm sorry about that.

Anyway, March is full of opportunities and promises. 

We're not out of the woods yet.

But I'm starting to see daylight.

Maybe Not My Best

 

In any part of life, regardless of the circumstances, we all have a day in which we just feel off.

I called a fascinating and weird game between Greenwich and Wilton last night at Cardinal Stadium. I came home and watched the Yankees/Cleveland game and crashed into bed after it was over.

Dan Murphy was along for the entire evening and, at one point, we talked about calling a game when we just don't have "it."

Well, that was me today.

I called Brunswick's homecoming matchup against Andover today. The circumstances were joyous. Jovial. Fun.

And yet I felt I was sort of just OK on the air.

As I sit here tonight, I look back and think about what could have been off, if anything.

Lack of sleep? No, I don't think so. By my standards, I had a decent night.

In the morning, I had breakfast, including a cup of coffee. I eventually cleaned a bit, sweeping and vacuuming before reviewing notes and making sure I had everything I needed.

I stopped at a deli to grab a small sandwich just in case there was food at Brunswick. We sometimes get offered things and I wanted to be ready either way. The sandwich would suffice otherwise.

I parked at Brunswick and got to work on setting up. It was mostly nothing unusual, except for having to climb to the roof of the press box a few times to thread an audio cable.

The only other factor was that I began to feel a little bit of sinus pain last night. Nothing too bad though I did take something for it before I went to bed. It did not linger through the Brunswick game.

At game time, I set about doing my opening and getting down to business.

And from there, I was fine. That's it. Just fine.

I'm hoping to the listener there was nothing unusual to take note of and that it was just in my head. That, overall, it didn't sit to my high standards but so what?

Look, the fact that Brunswick won 42-7 doesn't help things though I contend that a broadcaster should be at their best in those moments. Most of the time, I handle this with ease. 

The truth is, I laid out a bit more today. I wasn't quite as glib.

In this business, you generally have to fight through whatever it is that's going on. Sometimes those things are tangible. Sometimes they're not. But, unless something makes it physically impossible, I do whatever I need to do to make it work.

Maybe, ultimately, the sinus thing bothered me more than I let on. Maybe I was just overtired. Maybe I'm run down. Maybe it was Friday night's game that sapped me.

Who knows?

The goal is to not have the audience be aware of it. From what I gathered, nobody noticed.

So, I have to do "Meet the Beatles" tomorrow, with guests Sun Kings: A Beatles Tribute.

I can chill out after that and enjoy sports on TV.

A full week awaits before games next Friday and Saturday.

As always, I'll be ready.

No Suffering in Suffield

 

The assignment was to call Brunswick football at South Windsor but I'd also been told that the setup wasn't necessarily "broadcast friendly."

Well, the people were friendly.

Let's start by cutting to the chase. It took me three hours to get from Greenwich to Suffield, CT. In no world should that happen but this is Connecticut after all. In fact, my Waze app told me to go up I-684 in New York and come back to Connecticut.

That, to be clear, was the better option.

I was slowed up in Brewster. Danbury. Newtown. Waterbury. Southington. I lost track after a while.

But I made it with some time to spare. I parked and ran into Gus, our trusty videographer. He suggested I speak with the man who let him into the press box.

OK, now that was a nice discovery: that there was a press box at all. However, the many turned out to be the athletic director and, while he was great to work with, he didn't have great news.

Sure, there was a press box but, in his view, there was no room for me. Suffield Academy runs its own broadcast so a student would be in the booth calling the game. Plus an official would be sitting in there to run the scoreboard.

In hindsight, there was actually plenty of room but there would have been the problem of two broadcasters talking out loud close to one another. I've done it. Many times. But it's not ideal.

I volunteered to take the landing outside of the press box. There was more than enough room for what I needed to do.

In the end, the Suffield Academy AD had no idea I was even coming and, in his view, "This is a first. Opposing teams normally don't bring a broadcaster." That, friends, is an issue to me.

I've covered Greenwich High football for 26 years now on WGCH, Robcasting, HAN, and so on. Especially on WGCH, every game was covered, home and away.

It should be expected in my opinion.

It's not some lavish thing that Brunswick does. I'm there to bring their audience a familiar voice and knowledge of their team.

One of my goals over my time with Brunswick was to reach a point where other schools began to expect to see someone broadcast their game. That someone hopefully being me.

We still have work to do there.

Nevertheless, the night went flawlessly. Sure, there were Suffield Academy parents nearby doing their thing and sometimes glancing back at me but there was no harm. I had a job to do and I did it, even if I did talk in a bit of a softer register due to the circumstances. But there's no way I'm staying quiet on big plays. The kids deserve that, regardless of the team.

In the long run, the Bruins won 35-7. Everyone seemed to depart with a smile on their face. The Bruins are 5-0 and have their Homecoming game next Saturday at 3.

I'll be there and happy to do so.

I think a few people know who I am there.

The drive home was far less eventful, taking roughly 90 minutes.

But, again, I was five minutes from the Massachusetts state line and roughly an hour from Vermont.

A state I haven't called games in.

That seems like a goal.

From Ice Side

 

I'm home for a few minutes after calling the Connecticut Roughriders 4-3 overtime win over the Providence Capitals.

It was the kind of game in which one team scored. Then another. And they alternated until the extra session when the Norwalk home team got the W.

I'll be back with them again next week.

It's one of the most unique setups I get to encounter. I call the game from inside the visiting team's penalty box, which is also part of the scorer's booth. It's from there that I get power and access to plug equipment into the setup fro the broadcast.

To that end, an important piece of equipment couldn't be found at first, leaving me to think that I'd have to see if I had one of my own with me. 

Left to my own devices, I found the item, wedged in among other things. If you've ever worked in a hockey rink, you know that the chance exists to find anything. Al Capone's remains might be in some hockey rink.

In the end, all was well. OK, sort of.

Obviously, the FloHockey broadcast is the primary outlet. I provide Robcasting for those content to just listen. It also gives me access to an archive given I'm not paying FloHockey for my own broadcast.

I plugged in my podcaster, which gives me more control over the sound, including access to a mute button, thus cutting down on extraneous noise. It also allows me to run it through Robcasting.

Except it didn't work today for two periods, so I broadcast 90 minutes of just rink noise.

I put that squarely on my shoulders.

It's a unique setup from which to call a game. There's no booth and, to be closer to the camera and audio connection, I have to stand in the penalty box as I mentioned. As a result, I also serve as doorman for the penalty box.

And, as I'm sure you'll not be surprised, there's no edit button on players coming into the penalty box.

Yup, F-bombs a plenty.

More to the point, I call it as if I'm invisible. Sure, my voice can still be heard but I try to keep things under control as best as I can.

Oh, and the view isn't ideal. I couldn't see a goal score and one point; something I apologized for.

But, again, I'll take the challenge and run with it. Many think this is above them and I don't see things that way.

And in the middle of that are texts about other things in my wackadoodle world that also need attention. So it's always a wild ride.

Which is just how it goes.

The week continues. 

The grind rolls on.

Not everyone will sign up for this.

But I will.

*****

Today is John Lennon's birthday. The member of the Quarrymen was born on this day in 1940. We lost him in 1980.

John is a man who needs to be studied in context. He was complicated. That's the short version. For every "Run For Your Life," there was "In My Life."

But I'll be curious what post-1980 would have been like. Sadly, we'll never know.

Shine on, John. We all need that.

We all shine on.

How About Just Focusing On the Game?

Vin Scully and Joe Garagiola

There seems to be an over-the-top obsession with broadcasting in this year's Major League Baseball playoffs.

Oof.

Let's start with the obvious. With Joe Buck happily nestled into Monday Night Football, Bob Costas has become the whipping boy for fans.

Costas, of course, is quite used to it, as the veteran of nearly 50 years has been a target of critics for years.

He's not on social media, so whatever criticism he hears is just that: hearsay.

Costas has been a lightning rod in part because he has become a commentator on various political affairs. That, obviously, is polarizing.

But, more to the point of sports, Costas brings a style perfected by Mel Allen, Red Barber, Ernie Harwell, and Vin Scully, among others. It's the basics of storytelling, reporting, glimpses of humor, and simplicity. At times, Bob can be heavy-handed in his opinions of various things.

What Bob Costas is not is a screamer. So many fans in this era want the Gus Johnson approach of busting a lung on every play. You're not going to get that on Costas. Buck dealt with the same criticism at one time. It's the same knock on Al Michaels. It's also insane.

There's a notion that Costas doesn't have passion yet I would offer that the man loves the game of baseball. Plus, and it needs to be said, he (and literally all of the national voices) does not have a rooting bias. They don't hate or like any team. They play it straight.

It seems fairly obvious that Costas doesn't care and the Ford Frick Award winner is in no danger of being fired anytime soon despite criticism that has a hint of ageism to it. I shudder to think what people would think of Vin now.

In fact, in my opinion, Costas should be doing the World Series and is perhaps the best living baseball broadcaster among Jon Miller, Dan Shulman, Joe Buck, and a few others.

Though, to be clear, Joe Davis, who will do the World Series on FOX is outstanding.

Beyond that, there also seems to be a heavy dose of whining (from one fan base in particular) about the national announcers. They want the local voices to be on these games.

To an extent, I get it, and it feels like an alternate feed would be the best way to satisfy that desire. Those things cost money so I will leave that to those smarter than I am.

There was once a time (aka "back in my day") when, for instance, ABC would have the national feed of Yankees/Royals and WPIX would have the local feed with Phil Rizzuto, Bill White, and Frank Messer. As I was fascinated, I'd flip between both. This, eventually, went away, as did using local announcers on NBC's postseason coverage.

At one time, there wasn't an actual "national voice." World Series broadcasters were chosen from the participating teams. Beginning in 1966, Curt Gowdy became the lead, and local announcers joined him in their home city. That continued until 1976.

I completely understand the attachment to the local voices. Believe me, it's frustrating to hear another broadcaster call a team that I cover all season. I can still hear Greenwich fans, who were angry that Chris Erway and I were not on the CIAC state championship call in 2022. However, we were on WGCH, as always.

I offered to call the 2018 title game but was offered the analyst spot. I couldn't abandon Chris like that and WGCH would have needed a play-by-play announcer.

So, yes, I do get it.

But there seems to be more noise about it than usual this year.

So it goes.

*****

I ordered a rug today. It will be here tomorrow.

Yes, there's a story there.

But we're good neighbors and good tenants.

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

For now.

My Kind of Saturday

 

That's Dan on the left. Not Chris Erway.

Oh, let them question my sanity.

As I type these words I'm sore and tired after calling two games today at two different sites.

I have a heavy schedule tomorrow.

But today, thankfully, went well.

Sure, it seems nuts to embrace the idea of running around like I did but I enjoy the challenge.

Heck, there was a moment as I drove across Greenwich and thought about why I do what I do.

But then I told myself I'd miss the rush of days like this if I wasn't doing it.

I left the apartment and went to Brunswick, where I went into a quiet press box to set up in the window that I've generally used for years. 

It's not that difficult. I set up my small Zoom mixer and one headset. I put a crowd mic in place and ran a cable upstairs for the videographer. 

Things were in place pretty quickly. 

I walked out, knowing I'd be back in a few hours.

Then came the drive across town, sitting at every traffic light and following every slow vehicle. But I had time.

I needed water. 

And food.

A quick stop at the nearby Stop & Shop meant I could grab some water.

Then, it was onto Cardinal Stadium where things were buzzing. A water polo tournament meant there was plenty of life in the parking lot.

I walked into the stadium, made my way upstairs, and, eventually, went into booth number 204. Dan Murphy and Sean came over a few minutes later. Sean was with us in case I needed to leave early to return to Brunswick, thus they would have to pack up the equipment. Sean would bring it home.

I showed Dan some of the intricacies of setting up and how to run things.

From there, it was food we needed and I think there was some time confusion because the usual array of food trucks were very timely in their arrival to the stadium. We each grabbed chicken nuggets and fries and headed back to the booth where we got on the air just a hair after 2:50 p.m.

Greenwich took care of business from there, blocking two punts for touchdowns and rolling to a 42-14 win.

My time to leave for Brunswick was 5 p.m. We were close to that as the third quarter ended and I thought I could finish the broadcast while still being a little bit late to leave.

Off the air, Dan said he was ready to call the action. That was enough for me, knowing it would allow me to be there for a few minutes, serving as a mentor if necessary.

Imagine that? I could help Dan as a broadcaster and I wouldn't charge him for it!

He took the balance of the game and did a good job. Eventually, we talked about a few things that I noticed but his evolution as a broadcaster has been a wonder to watch.

I shifted to doing analysis for the rest of the game. In the end, I never left early, but I found out that Dan could definitely serve as a backup for me.

From the 2024 Greenwich Football program

Earlier in the day, I was given a copy of the 2024 Greenwich Football program, a color book of pictures, ads, and other items. I have basically all of them back to 2000. A few years back, the team was kind to start including the broadcasters.

Except, it was long after the publication date when I realized they might not know that Dan is now in the booth.

So I flipped it open and, yeah, it wasn't Dan.

It was Chris Erway.

Oops. I apologized and realized we'd have to change that in 2025.

With the Greenwich game over, we packed in a few minutes and headed to the parking lot. Sean helped us get out to the car and he took off.

I was getting ready to go to Brunswick and Dan, it appeared had the broadcasting bug. He followed me over, volunteering to join me for that broadcast.

The lot at Cosby Field was overflowing but I found a space near the Hartong Rink and headed down to the booth. Dan joined a few minutes later.

Mission accomplished, we were on the air in time and called the Bruins 35-14 win.

Dan just wanted more reps and it was great. The audience wins in the long run.

I'm back home now and a few people have asked what I thought of the day. I want to say we crushed it but I'm sure it wasn't perfect.

Still, to have the day work out like that is great.

Now, it's onto tomorrow, where I have "Meet the Beatles" with guests at 9 a.m. and onto New Jersey for Rockets Hockey Club action at 3 p.m.

Oh, and the Yankees won tonight. They lead the Royals in their best of five, one game to none.

So yeah, it was a good day.

Four Games

 

Don't worry.

The post is here.

You're not worried. I can tell.

But, in the process of preparing for four games -- Danbury/Greenwich, Avon Old Farms/Brunswick, Elmira Impact/Rockets Hockey Club, Providence Capitals/Connecticut Roughriders -- I simply didn't get this on social media.

I suppose, to some, this breaks the streak but if a post fails to post and nobody notices, does it really matter?

So, yes, I'm here. Thanks for asking.

Thursday was (indeed) a day of preparing for four games. That, after recording and editing a new "Hanratty's Huddle" in the morning. We did the podcast from Norwalk Community College, ahem, except it's not NCC anymore.

it's CT State Norwalk. Marketing, I suppose.

But that meant Terry Hanratty, Dave Torromeo, and I got to sit in a nice podcast lab, working with shiny equipment.

And, for a moment, I thought we might not have any of the 38 minutes we recorded. My computer -- for some reason -- recorded roughly seven minutes and stopped on two different recording programs.

Fortunately, the internal SD drive of the RØDECaster Pro II saved it and, with a little figuring out of the process to get the audio on my computer, the day was saved.

One thing I often really like about most of the podcasts that I do is that there isn't much editing. What I mean by that is I work in a "live to tape" style. We do the show as if we're live. If I wanted to go to another level, I could have the theme music play as well, but I normally add that in the post-production process.

On rare occasions do I actually need to edit anything out. In those cases, it's usually someone has coughed or an audio level is too low or some other minor edit. On "Talent Talks," which I do for Hunt Scanlon, occasionally a client nitpicks a bit more and I have to see if I can work some magic. In that case, the option becomes that we leave it alone or we do it over.

When it comes to "Talent Talks" I always explain that I want the client to be happy with what they've said. Any big stumbles of mine can be fixed after the fact by me, and I've done that also, rereading statements and questions that I wasn't happy with.

But, in this case, "Hanratty's Huddle" was done without incident, despite my slightly raised blood pressure. It's posted online and can be found wherever you get your podcasts. Like anything I do, we would very much appreciate a little love. Spread the word as we're still trying to grow.

And many thanks to CT State Norwalk for having us in as we try to build a relationship with them.

Oh, but back to the four games. It's standard operating procedure at first, by creating a scoresheet for four games (two football, two hockey) with relevant information (records, last game, next game, etc) and then searching for rosters.

Four games means eight rosters. Two I have at my disposal (Greenwich and Brunswick). Five were found without too much headache.

And then there's one. I'll let you figure out which one it is.

Finding them is one thing. 

Making them look the way I want is another. I don't go crazy on the appearance but I do often copy and paste into an Excel spreadsheet. In the case of some, the copying doesn't go as planned, so there needs to be some manipulation.

I did plenty of that for games that will take place on Saturday, Sunday, and next Wednesday.

As always, I'll be ready. I'll have stats, storylines, and other items as game time approaches.

I'm calling three of these games solo, with Dan Murphy on Greenwich/Danbury joining me. He might, in fact, wind up calling part of that one but that's a different story. Lots of hurdles to jump.

And blog posts will likely follow.

Back to College

 

If there's one thing I could say about my resume, it's that it is rather diverse.

Tonight, we can add "college soccer announcer." I called the matchup between Albright College and DeSales University in Center Valley, PA on MACtv.

It was a day that wouldn't qualify as a big money maker. There was lunch, dinner, gas, tolls, and so on.

But it was a day of building relationships and enjoying experiences.

With a two-hour drive ahead of us, we got on the road to Pennsylvania a little after 10 a.m. It was just after Noon when we walked into Waffle House for our breakfast for lunch."=

We walked out happily fed and went to a nearby Sheetz to pick up drinks for the game.

We were, frankly, early for the 3:30 start of the game. Very early. Even with a road closed on our drive, we were still on site two hours before game time. That normally doesn't bother me at all, especially when it's just me, but Sean was with me and, well, there was no one at the field.

We had time to waste.

The field itself was simple. There were scoreboards in each corner and bleachers across from the benches. A small shelter served as a scorer's table. Two shelters were in place for each team. The broadcast booth was a small metal platform with a set of stairs up to it. It was stable and had a weatherproof cover on it.

There was enough room for three people, with me, a cameraman, and a person running the computer and the graphics. But, to be clear, I had to stand behind the crew to call the action, which sounds worse than it was.

In fact, I had almost no problem with the view at all. My computer, however, wouldn't be used, thus I couldn't integrate Robcasting nor could I use it for research.

Instead, I relied on my phone. A lot. I also put the rosters into my binder and just held onto that. I had no table space to work with.

It was different. But it worked really well. Or maybe I should cut myself some credit and say I made it work really well. 

As I called the game from the tower, I couldn't help but notice the baseball stadium across the street. Will I get to come back and call some DeSales University Bulldogs baseball? I would say don't count that out. I made it clear I'd be very interested in that.

It seemed the university was pleased with my work today. I likely won't do any winter sports there, which always raises the competitor in me, but calling baseball there next spring would be a blast.

Before the game, Sean and I walked into the university center and found the Campus Store where I pondered various sweatshirts and other items. I think I've decided that moving forward, any school wishing to hire me should have to throw some swag into the deal. Am I serious? Semi. What would it hurt to be given a sweatshirt, polo shirt, or a nice pullover? Heck, I'm there as your broadcaster, so why not outfit me?

Besides, like the Manning brothers, I'm a sucker for a quarter-zip.

In this case, I looked at everything and decided I would only get something once I was asked to come back. I figured, at that point, there would be a relationship. Either way, I'd be proud to wear their stuff.

For the record, I've already been asked to come back but no date has been set.

While in the University Center, we also found WDSR, the campus radio station. The small studio had a tinted window with equipment inside and, while nobody was at the controls, I just liked seeing that a station existed.

With DeSales' 2-0 victory complete, I climbed down the stairs from the tower (which wasn't that high) and headed back to the car where Sean was waiting.

A nearby Wawa was our dinner place. 

The drive took a bit longer on the return trip thanks to some ill-timed construction on I-78 in New Jersey but we made it home and considered the day a big success.

A four-hour round trip isn't necessarily ideal but I think it can be done occasionally. 

And it gets me back to doing some college sports. 

We felt like we were welcomed to their campus and the experience was good.

I'm listening to the audio right now at home and I'm mostly content with the broadcast. It was my first soccer call in roughly a year and I know there was some rust but I'd like to think the audience enjoyed it.

So, yes, let's do it again.

Kicking Into October

 

(Photo: DeSales University)

October is upon us and life (hopefully) will get busier from here.

See, the thing is, sure I get busy but that doesn't mean I'm always working (that is, making money). Lately, things have been a bit slim.

But it is with great hope that things will pick up a bit.

Look, I was able to pay the rent today, even if wasn't how the landlord asked me to do it. She requested I pay electronically and I'm certainly all for that but, for whatever reason, it didn't work. So, I quickly wrote a check and walked it down to the post office last night. To top it off, I included a letter apologizing for the snafu. 

They should have it by tomorrow since they live across town.

Speaking of tomorrow, Sean and I will be away for a day trip as a new enterprise awaits. Through the magic of social media, I connected with DeSales University, a college near Allentown, PA when they said they had some play-by-play openings. Always in favor of building my network, I reached out and, though it took time to find a match that works, I'll call their men's soccer match tomorrow against Albright College.

So, why?

Like I said, building my network for one thing. You never know where this crazy road can lead so I embraced the idea of the road trip. It won't be a big money maker but I'll be compensated.

Oh, yeah, did I mention there's a Waffle House 10 minutes away? I probably should have added that piece of information.

So, yeah, that's happening. And, yes, that's another part of the reason I'm all for doing this. I mean, why hide it?

But it's one of those opportunities that I take on occasionally where I can only do my best but, admittedly, don't know enough. I don't know the culture or the traditions of the university yet. I can research them, sure, but it's really only through experience that I can appreciate them. It takes time to understand a program but I'll do my best.

So there will likely be some growing pains with this experience. I'm also told that their soccer setup is awkward so I have no idea what I truly getting into. I'm not sure if I can have my computer for recording the audio either.

There is a point where the elements of reporting the game kick in. With it being a video stream, the picture does the heavy work. I take a minimalist approach in this situation.

I saw a post a week ago that chastised a broadcaster for saying too much on a video broadcast. To that, I call BS.

Context is needed.

For one thing, consider the quality of the video production. That's not a knock on anyone. That's simply reality. Sometimes it's inexperience or the quality of equipment.

I know that in so many of the games that I've done on video, my detailed play-by-play is needed. That is the truth. It's why most of what I did at the HAN Network, for instance, was a hybrid radio/TV call.

Also, consider if there is a radio/audio element. Take the Renegades, for instance. We had (and still have) a radio broadcast. Those listeners can't see the game so it was my job to give as many details as possible, despite also having a video stream available.

I realize that if all things are equal, Joe Buck isn't going to call Monday Night Football with intense detail due to the equipment, people, and volume of all that are at their disposal.

What kind of setup will I have tomorrow? Well, I'll find out. If it's one camera and that cameraman is as good as the great Gustavo I work with at Brunswick, then it will be a pretty straightforward video call. 

But these are all of the unknowns that I'll learn tomorrow.

Sean and I will get a reasonable start so we can get out to Pennsylvania for a likely late breakfast/early lunch. Then we'll go to DeSales University in Center Valley to find the field, set up, and call the match. Both teams have good records so I have high hopes for a competitive contest.

Sean will either hang out with me or find other ways to keep himself occupied. But he'll be happy with the food options, given you know we'll also add Wawa to the day.

Hoping this will all be a reward for a job well done and the beginning of a new relationship.

Watch it here.

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.

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.

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.

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.