Random Albums

I just watched an interview Dan Rather did with Huey Lewis. It was pretty enjoyable, and I learned a few things.

I knew several of the stories, while others were unfamiliar, such as how the famed sax musician Stan Getz wound up playing on the Small World album.

As we've moved through the pandemic pandemonium, social media has been awash in many chains. Give me five albums and with no explanation and tag five friends. That type of thing.

Albums have always been a part of my life, so I enjoy talking about them. As I've been trying to say lately, there's no right answer to this stuff. Besides, these are albums that mean something to me for one reason or another. They're not necessarily the best ever.

Oh, and I'm just going to throw a handful here, and I'm not tagging anyone. If you want to discuss, then proceed. Feel free to offer up ones that mean something to you in whatever comment section you so choose.

Obviously, we'll start here...

Sports, Huey Lewis and the News. Even if I were to give an explanation, would it be necessary? In short, it was my album. Nobody influenced it. It also changed me -- for better or for worse. Even now, I wear a T-shirt with the album cover on it from the 30th anniversary tour seven years ago. (Needless to say, each of their albums means a lot to me, so we'll go with Sports and not do a full breakdown of them all tonight)

Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band, The Beatles. The album cover. The songs. Before I knew any better, this album was there. Is it The Lads' best album? No, probably not. But as Sports changed me, Sgt. Pepper changed everything. You can say whatever you want. I respect it. But, The Beach Boys made Pet Sounds. Paul McCartney said, "Oh, yeah?" Bingo. Everyone has been playing catch-up.

The Drum Battle -- Gene Krupa and Buddy Rich at JATP. This is one of a couple of sacred records in my collection. Yes. Record. If you left my father alone in the house, you ran the risk of him playing it. Loud. I can still hear it rattling the house windows while I was outside trying to be Terry Bradshaw. There's so much great jazz/swing here that it's insane. To that end...

The Famous 1938 Carnegie Hall Jazz Concert, Benny Goodman. Again, my father plays a role here. When he discovered that my sister had a stereo that could convert vinyl to cassette (it was the 80s, of course), he handed the project of recording it to me (my sister didn't mind). I painstakingly took that 1951 pressing and lovingly worked around every scratch to record it. Preserving that record was that important to the old man. I still have the album. And I have it on CD as well. And digital. He'd be amazed.

Revolver, The Beatles. I couldn't stop at just one album from the Fabs. Besides, there are no rules here. When their music finally hit CD in the late 80s, I found myself faced with which album to buy first. I was in a store called Lechmere in Poughkeepsie (circa 1988-89) and had finally gotten myself a CD player at home. It was time to pick a Beatles CD. Sgt. Pepper? Abbey Road? Nope. Revolver. Look at the track list. (PS, THIS is their best album)

The Globe Sessions, Sheryl Crow. There are certain albums that mean a ton to me. Right place. Right time. I knew of Sheryl Crow in the mid-90s and saw her open for the Eagles in 1994. I bought her records. Decent stuff for sure. The Globe Sessions still speaks to me. It's dark and moody and happy and a little bit of everything.

Glass Houses, Billy Joel. You either love him or hate him. Few tolerate him. After The Stranger, I became an even bigger fan with 52nd Street. But Glass Houses did it. One day I'd like meet someone in the bar at the Plaza Hotel, wearing a jacket and a tie. And "All for Leyna." Damn.

Sinatra at the Sands, Frank Sinatra. The height of cool. You might get whacked, but hey, that's Sinatra for ya, baby. Count Basie -- COUNT FRIGGIN' BASIE -- is his bandleader. Arranging and conducting is Quincy Jones, who Sinatra has nothing but praise for. The version of "I've Got You Under My Skin" is one of the most perfect live records I've heard.

Making Movies, Dire Straits. They had made their bones with "Sultans of Swing," which was certainly a different sound in the punk to disco scene of the late 70s. But, with this album, they hit the right notes for me. "Romeo and Juliet" is heartbreaking. "Les Boys" is awkward. "Skateaway" and "Tunnel of Love" are magnificent. Oh, did I say heartbreaking?

Songs for Only the Lonely, Frank Sinatra. "One For My Baby (And One More For the Road)" might be the greatest lonely guy closing down a bar song. While I've never been the guy closing the bar, I've sang it more than a few times. This album should have a warning label: never listen to it when feeling down. EVER.

Skylarking, XTC. They're a band that maybe you know. Maybe not. This is (for me) their masterpiece. Andy Partridge is a snarky git for sure, and he and Todd Rundgren (who produced it) were at odds the whole time. But (sorry those who are religious), "Dear God" (which got plenty of airplay on MTV) hit me in the gut at the right time (late '86) because in there was all of the angst that my 17 year-old brain had about such things. And it's never faded. Which is amazing, because they're also brilliant pop songsmiths, and "Dear God" is fairly dark.

OK Computer, Radiohead. A game-changer. Is that enough? An album that's named because of a line in The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy? This is the type of stuff that showed me that maybe I had some depth to what I listened to. It was peak-Tower Records (CD) shopping time, pre-American Idol. And...yeah...

News of the World, Queen. I wasn't on Queen early enough, but I still remember hearing "Bohemian Rhapsody" for the first time. Again, a game-changer. Later, I heard what we've all heard millions of times since. Boom-boom-CLAP! Boom-boom-CLAP! I was officially in. There are other albums theirs that I prefer, but this was the first I bought. It was, in fact, among the first LP's I ever bought.

I suppose that's enough for tonight. I gave you 13 -- in no particular order (except, I suppose, for the first two). Honestly, there was no rhyme of reason. I just grabbed these albums to see what I could write about them. God, I love writing about music.

I hate what music has done to me at times (longer story there, of course) but I love what it has done to me also. I wish I could explain why I change my feelings about certain things (much longer story there, since I really don't know why).

And, one night, I'll have to dive into the albums of 1989. God, the late-80s were tough musically, but music helped save my soul.

Alas, stories for another time.

Time for one more for the road.

I'm Tired

The cat is tired also.

I'm pretty wiped out.

You'd think that just being home (yes, I really was home all day!) wouldn't take that much out of me, but one thing I'm proud of is there has been very little "down" time. I've been editing, listening, producing, talking, cleaning, and hosting.

I've stayed quite active, thank you very much.

And, sleep is always a wild card.

So, I'm tired as I sit here tonight.

I was going to dive into the rabbit hole of those things that happen on social media tonight.

Five albums! No explanation! Tag five people!

Post your senior picture! But, I've done that already.

Post a picture of you broadcasting! Ditto.

Though I don't really tag anyone usually. I found the Ice Bucket Challenge was enough. Nobody responded and that was that.

So, I'll hold those cards for another time.

Tomorrow's a busy one. Run Robcasting Replay. Drive to Carmel. Drive to Mahopac. Finish Robcasting Replay. Drive back to Carmel. Drive back to Mahopac. Maybe grab food. Record a podcast for Hunt Scanlon. Do Doubleheader. Maybe eat dinner. Do The Clubhouse. Then, edit The Clubhouse.

Then write the blog and try to not throw any of my computers through a window.

Good times. See you tomorrow.

Cool Things

I can't afford the $40 to see if my name is in it!

I've tried to be patient through all of it.

Obviously COVID-19 has impacted everyone. I haven't called a game since Mar 12 (nor has, basically, anyone else).

So the waiting game has been our thing, and certainly health comes first.

At the same time, I've been chomping at the proverbial bit since last October when I got the word that I was the new Hudson Valley Renegades broadcaster. I think a little about it every day.

There have been some great things to keep me going while the fall turned to winter and then to spring.

I visited Dutchess Stadium just before the pandemic made us all go home (in theory, anyway).

But, last week, things got really real with the ticket office opening up online for single game tickets, as well as the promotional schedule being released.

Get your tickets now at hvrenegades.com.

As I keep saying, it gives a little bit of hope.

But, still, there's a part of me that feels like I'm not really a member of the Gades family just yet, and I know I really need to earn my (raccoon) stripes. I'm certainly dying to do anything for them at this point and, hopefully, I'll do something soon.

And the press release was great. The newspaper pieces were great, though I'm honestly a touch befuddled why one of my own hometown newspaper ignored it. But, so be it.

You know my story at this point, so there's no point in explaining. I've never been jaded. I can still hear a promo or commercial or a game highlight or a show with my voice on it and marvel that I'm still doing this for real.

Heck, I woke up at two in the morning on Sunday to hear me on The Clubhouse on SiriusXM!

So, today, I glanced at The Broadcaster Directories, which is a database loaded with the names of the broadcasters for each team in pro sports, as well as the NCAA. I glanced at it a few times and wondered if it would ever be updated.

I had to go to Google Docs for something else today(one of two projects I'm working on tonight), and in there is a link to the professional baseball directory on Broadcaster 411.

And don't you know there, among the broadcasters of the Tampa Bay Rays organization, sits me.

Pretty cool.

I always wanted to see my name in the Baseball America Directory and the New York-Penn League media guide. I want to see it on the team website.

I want to see my picture and write for the team yearbook or program.

I'm like a kid and it's still all so overwhelming.

I still hope to be in Maryland for the first pitch on June 18, with my good friend Jon sitting six feet apart like we planned months ago. I still have plans to try to make a few road games (Staten Island, Brooklyn, Tri-City, Norwich).

I still hope to have all of you listening and visiting me at the stadium.

And I still hope the Renegades tell me do something soon -- anything -- to SHUT ME UP!

Does anyone want to have a catch -- via social distancing?

Easter, Pandemic Style

It's safe to say this was a unique Easter.

Many spent it in different ways than normal. In some ways, it was average for me. I know I had at least one where I refused to go anywhere and ate Chinese food as I spent the day alone.

Other years I'm guilted into doing something.

Anyway, there was something I had to do (yes, everything I've done for the past month has been a need), so we went out this morning, meeting my sister and nephew (six feet apart) at my dad's grave.

While it's often peaceful to be there, it's obviously more bitter than sweet.

My nephew asked me about my dad's passing, so I went down that rabbit hole of talking about it. Not that it bothered me.

Hillside Cemetery contains a few of my relatives. Besides my dad, there's his mother, my mother's parents, two of her brothers as well as three of my aunts and one cousin.

One of my father's best friends is also buried there and I visit it virtually every time I'm in the cemetery. My dad and I walked over to his grave one time (probably in the late 70s/early 80s).

"Always keep it clean," my dad said. "Nobody ever visits him."

The story goes that his friend suffered badly from caner (and that's the best I way I can describe it). His passing was so hard on my father that he didn't go to the funeral in 1971.

So, while it's not always easy to find, I walk to his grave and clean it. It's a small vow to honor my dad and keep his friend in someones memory.

As for my dad's grave, there are three tiles that were placed there by my nieces not long after he died in 1989. They stayed there for, I'd say, probably 28 years. They survived wind, ran, snow, lawn mowers, and whatever else until one disappeared a year or two ago.

Even when they'd fall, I'd normally find it near his grave and put it back in their rightful place.

Lately, this one piece of blue tile has not been found. It might be buried in dirt. It might have gotten swept up in a lawn mower. Or maybe my father decided he wanted one of them for himself and he took it (and I sort of love that theory -- because it feels like it's straight out of a horror movie).

Wherever it's gone, it has served its purpose, I suppose. That doesn't mean I'll ever stop looking for it.

Having my nephew there allowed me to serve as a bit of a tour guide, though admittedly my sister is the genealogist of the family. It allowed me to point out -- in person -- that my paternal grandmother (a fascinating woman who lived around Greenwich) would be 141 years old.

"She was born not long after the Civil War," my nephew noted.

Yup. Pretty wild.

To adhere with the rules of social distancing we truly did stay apart from each other, and were even able to grab sandwiches and eat "lunch" despite talking through the window of a car in a parking lot.

It worked and, again, it's because we had to do this.

So, that was my Easter. Hope yours was nice also if you celebrate. Otherwise, hope you had a nice Sunday.

A day at a time.

We're getting closer.

Those Last Words

Interstate 95, Stamford, CT on Apr 11, 2020 at 7:11 p.m. (CT Traffic Cam)

The last game I broadcast on-site was on March 9 in Trumbull.

A day later, everything changed.

Still, I called Brunswick/Episcopal lacrosse on March 12 from the Local Live Stamford command center.

A month ago tomorrow.

Since then, I've done a Hunt Scanlon podcast and I've gotten back to hosting Doubleheader along with The Clubhouse, but all from home.

Which, by the way, aired overnight on American Forces Radio and Sirius, and will do so again tonight.

Trust me, based on the overall thud of all of this, you don't care.

Sadly there are metrics for these things and that's when I start wondering why I bother.

To that end, I have become obsessed with Robcasting Replay.

I only wish more shared that emotion and I finally had to recognize that myself today.

I was going BIG this weekend. Two games Friday!

Hell, let's do SIX this weekend!

I stayed up a chunk of the night editing.

Wait. There's a mention of gunshots at a Central/Harding game during our call of the Darien/New Canaan from 2014! Someone is going to think that's fresh news. DELETE IT!

I need a Brunswick game! I need a Mahopac game! Let's convert cassette tapes from 2001. Let's GO!

Suddenly the sound of brakes screeched.

Hold on there, Richard Petty (is that reference still relevant?). I know people appreciate your efforts, I told myself. You have a few people who listen to and read basically everything you do.

So, I backed down to two games today and none tomorrow.

You see, I ran the 2015 girls hockey classic between ETB and Simsbury. They retweeted, liked, and listened. That's when you want to do more. It drives you.

Then I ran Darien and New Canaan football from Thanksgiving, 2014. I might have been the only one listening (that's an exaggeration).

The point is to do this because I WANT to do this.

So I'm writing the post early tonight, whining to you about this stuff. Then I'm shutting down. The computers are bring turned off.

I'm not giving you my five albums for no good reason or one of the many memes and chains running around (though that might be tomorrow's post). I'm also not going to complain about how Mickey Mantle's triple crown in 1956 is (currently) beating Roger Maris' 61 in 61 in #TheBronxBracket.

Oh, wait. I just did. Well, that's a damn crime. I love Mickey (Mickey Who?) but Rajah got enough disrespect in the 60s. I know fanboys are always going to be fanboys, but be fair. Roger's 61 is still one of the great baseball moments ever, let along a Yankees moment.

Oh yeah, the post title. So, back to March 12. Going through all of these games got me to thinking about the last game I did and the last words I said before this all happened. I didn't say anything profound, except that I said (hoped) that Brunswick's next game would be their April 1 home opener.

"I plan on seeing you on April 1," I said. "I hope you plan on joining me as well."

There's still a bit of a rasp in my voice and no background noise (since I was in a studio). I'm trying to be upbeat but the whole atmosphere of that day suggested we were in for the long haul.

My last words reflect that.

"For now, stay safe. We'll see you soon. So long, everyone."


Check this out on Chirbit

We're still here of course and I haven't been back to Connecticut since.

I'm still hopeful. But, for now, those were my last words on a game broadcast.

And, for now, I'm shutting down. Until tomorrow.

Remember The Good

These two young bucks called the 2014 FCIAC Football Championship

I'm editing away at various games to run as part of my Robcasting Replay series.

Some have been hits. Some have not.

It's the nature of the beast.

What it has allowed me to do is review some of the work I've been a part of.

I learn things, of course.

Sometimes it brings up some painful memories or I get to hear voices of people who don't talk to me anymore.

But, when I allow myself to listen and enjoy it, I hear some good things.

Some really good things.

And I'm not talking about me. I'm talking about the whole product.

I edited the famous girls state championship hockey tie and it reminded me of how Eric Gendron, Jake Zimmer, and Chris Kaelin each donated their time to the broadcast of a girls hockey game involving two teams that weren't located anywhere near our listening area.

I also edited the 2014 FCIAC football championship between Darien and New Canaan (aka the Turkey Bowl). Gendron and Kaelin were again part of the broadcast, with Chris Erway and I working up in the booth.

We all went through hell at times with a lot of the "off the air" stuff (and maybe one day it will be worth telling the war stories) but hearing the actual final product reminded me of just how good it was. That 2014 game had to be pinpoint in terms of the newspapers and the radio working together.

Everyone worked their collective tails off.

A great game helps, of course, and the two that I've mentioned here each had their moments of enormous drama.

These are just two of the games that I plan to play this weekend on Robcasting.

And I'll be able to smile and feel proud of what we accomplished.

Time to Recharge the Bat-tree

The carrot gave him SUPER POWERS!

As you probably know, I occasionally hit lulls. Or slam into a wall.

I'm there.

It happens, to the point where I think about stepping down, and I was pretty close to not writing anything tonight. I've written for 467 days in a row and I feel like lately has been crap.

Though I thought last night was kind of OK. Not sure you did, but that's OK as well.

The post I wrote about Robcasting Replay, which I'm having a lot of fun doing, landed with a thud.

And thus, ah, screw it.

Here we are, I guess.

I dragged myself to the mic today for Doubleheader.

Basically I plodded through this day.

The key to all of this has been that I've remained busy. Prune this tree, clean this junk, write this post, do this show, edit this game.

And other stuff out of my control that needs to be done.

This is my own personal rat race. There are people with bigger problems.

And so, we keep it short, because as Bugs Bunny said in Super-Rabbit (1943), "Time to recharge my bat-tree."

We'll see what tomorrow brings.

Happy Rex Manning Day

You knew what day it was, didn't you?

Today was Rex Manning Day.

You know...Rex Manning.

The singer.

You don't remember his big hit, "Say No More (Mon Amour)?"


I still remember the day I drove to Delaware to meet Rex in person.

Oh, wait. No, I didn't. Rex isn't real. He's a character in a movie.

Empire Records is a largely cult movie from 1995 and Rex Manning is a character in a key part of the movie who is played with over-the-top doucheyness by Maxwell Caulfield.

The movie evokes a lot of what might have been sort of OK about the mid-90s. The cast is solid for that time (and I think Renée Zellweger has done fairly well for herself, for instance). Even (most) of the music is good, with the highlight (in my opinion) being "A Girl Like You" by Edwin Collins.


But, more than that, it reminds me of one of my absolute favorite places: music stores, or "record stores" as we once called them.

From Book and Record in Carmel (or, eventually, Baldwin Place) to department stores like Caldor to eventually Record World and Record Town, I grew up perusing many a place to get music.

I grabbed the sheet at Caldor, anxious to order the 45's out of the bin behind the counter that never seemed to have anyone working there. How else would I get my fix of John Sebastian's "Welcome Back" from Welcome Back, Kotter?

And you always ordered by the number off that sheet! "May I have number four, please?"

I should mention that none of these options were what I would call independent music stores, which is at the heart of Empire Records.

But it was often the best we could do.

Eventually I graduated to the heaven of Tower Records (in New York City and Stamford and Nanuet) and even Virgin in Times Square, not to mention the amazing record stores of Greenwich Village. I know Virgin had the heartless sense of the Fox and Sons mega-bookstore in You've Got Mail but it was still a nirvana. It was my equivalent of the worst store you can think of because you knew I was gone and probably wasn't coming out.

The same with Tower Records and let's not even discuss Borders, which tended to hit all of the "music snobs" notes in me.

Jazz. Rock. Pop. Everything, and the ability to get it if they didn't have it.

I haven't even mentioned perhaps my favorite, and it's still open!

Plan 9 Music in Virginia (with one location in Charlottesville and, more importantly, in Richmond).

Jon introduced me to Plan 9 and, for the love of Paul McCartney, I was gone every time. To be clear, there were certain things I had to do in Richmond: walk around Maymont, stroll across the James River, and go to Plan 9.

Simply the fact that there were used records/CDs made this a dannnnngerous place.

Purchases from there included The Beatles ("The White Album") and one of The Beatles Anthology CD sets. But, among the used CDs were Van Morrison's Moondance and a fantastic song collection called Hang The DJ - Modern Rock 1986. This CD included songs from Oingo Boingo, The Smiths, The Psychadelic Furs (with the movie version of "Pretty in Pink"), New Order and a lot more. I've played that CD a lot.

So, when I saw it was Rex Manning Day -- I repeat: REX MANNING DAY! -- I thought not only of Empire Records and the collections of characters that hung around that store, but of Tower Records and Virgin and Book and Record and Plan 9 and Johnny's Records in Darien, which is one of the few remaining record shops that I can name off the top of my head.

Amazon is just fine, but nothing can replace how great these places were.

So, Happy Rex Manning Day.

Damn the Man.

Can We Think This Through?

A New York Penn League ball, ca. 2009

Major League Baseball floated a trial balloon today in which they suggested the baseball could possibly return in May with regular season games starting in June.

Some were outraged. Some applauded the news.

I saw it as a touch of hope.

Not that I think it's plausible but that there was at least a conversation going on.

Look, this is phase one of probably many conversations. Health officials and politicians need to be involved. OKs need to be given and the whole thing needs to be ratified by the MLB Players Association.

NEWS: Major League Baseball and the MLBPA are focusing on a plan backed by federal health officials that could have players in training camps by May and games soon thereafter.

Details at ESPN on how MLB may return -- and the difficulty in doing so: https://t.co/zDoNa3k4pm

— Jeff Passan (@JeffPassan) April 7, 2020

I've heard all of the details that have been made public: teams would be in constant quarantine, they're talking about seven inning doubleheaders, electronic umpiring, teams sitting in the stands as opposed to dugouts, no mound visits, etc.

It's radical. It's weird.

It's not baseball's strong suit to do such things.

Yes, the TV networks want revenue. Sure. So, there's a money angle but it's not as prominent as one might think.

But, safety has to be first.

Second.

Third.

We've survived without sports. Definitely.

But, let's face, a big part of the lives of many (Hi!) revolve around sports in some way. I, personally, get a large chunk of my income and the economy is obviously a huge (yuge even) issue through this.

Many hourly, contract and freelance employees are hurting everywhere.

Now, that's not a reason to fly back to the ballpark or anything else.

So, like I said, this baseball idea is a beginning.

From the aesthetics of it all, I don't like the seven innings idea for MLB (it's done in MILB). I really don't like an electronic strike zone either.  I'm not bothered by the social distancing of teams sitting separately and so on but I'd be concerned about any contact. No high fives, obviously, but what about plays at the plate or base?

However there would also be constant testing. Constant.

But, really, how do your separate players and staffs from their families for potentially 4.5 months? I see that as a huge sticking point.

There's work to be done here, and that's why ESPN's Jeff Passan put it out to the masses.

But, as I tried to say when the news broke earlier today, don't overreact.

As someone who works in sports, I'm fine with having the conversation to see what is feasible.

Look, we're eventually going to have to start back up. Gov. Cuomo said so today in his press conference. Now, will we just "flick the switch" and go back to "normal?" No. Not a chance.

There will need to be a "soft opening," if you will.

Baseball -- sports -- which has helped this country in many times of need could potentially give a bit of a jump start.

I'm not trying to be Pollyanna here. I see all kinds of issues with this which is why I stress not overreacting.

So, I'm content to take a wait and see approach, which has basically been my thing since this started.

A lot will change before this comes to be.

If it comes to be.

Robcasting Replay

Wibbly-wobbly, Timey-wimey: I need a TARDIS...or a DeLorean

Sometimes I just have to go for it.

I've been toying with playing games out of my archive on Robcasting, especially during the COVID-19 pandemic and I finally pulled it together today.

I began to sketch a format in my brain and made sure to not get overwhelmed.

So, with the help of Twitter (thanks to both Shawn Sailer and Matt Hamilton), I came up with the first couple of games that I wanted to play, and euphemistically called it the "Robcasting Replay."

Robcasting Rewind also would have worked but oh well.

I spent a few hours making sure to come up with a disclaimer to open and close the broadcast because I want listeners to understand that these aired on outlets beyond just Robcasting (think WGCH and HAN Radio) and that the ads listeners might hear are quite outdated.

Also, sound quality might be an issue and some of the games might have "off air" comments.

With all of that said (and recorded) I then looked around for some theme music, coming up with a punk song that I grabbed* the beginning and end of to create enough for a theme song. It was a good drum groove with a guitar lick that I liked.

*Royalty-free music, I might add.

Selecting music is always my least favorite job. Of course, if I really had my way, I would have taken "Back in Time" by Huey Lewis and the News but I didn't want to run afoul of HLN and their lawyers.


Matt Hamilton suggested the 2014 FCIAC football championship between Greenwich and Bridgeport Central. A few notes:

- Matt is just a kid, and I knew that, but he knows his stuff. It should surprise no one that he's now a star at the NFL Network.

- I talk too much. Too fast. Damn, Rob, but shut the hell up.

- Tom Kane and I have a nice rapport. Clearly we're having fun (Matt and his dad were also in the booth).

- Some in that booth in New Canaan were very much rooting for Central and I'd forgotten I politely called them out on that. I don't want them to root for Greenwich either. It's a neutral site. Be neutral.

- Central scored at one point and I said, "Touchdown, New Canaan." Oy. Sixteen years later, I cringed.

- Anthony Kalogrides, reading the halftime report, read a story that was cringeworthy at halftime. It happens but I remember standing in the booth just begging for it to end.

- But, to be fair, it does sound like a professional broadcast, so I suppose mission accomplished.

- Anthony Morello was among my guests that night postgame. Polished, professional, and a natural leader, it's easy to see why he's a head coach now.

- We had a lot of sponsors. We had sponsors for drive summaries and starting lineups and the pre- and postgame show and halftime. It was absolutely great.

I really enjoyed rerunning this game. Like, I loved it. Like, I surprised myself how much I enjoyed it.

What I also loved was that this game didn't exist on an internet archive before tonight (it will after tonight). It hadn't aired or been archived since that night in 2004.

I've already set tomorrow's game up. We're going to hockey (probably Shawn Sailer's number one requested game) as Greenwich plays Glastonbury in the 2015 Div I semifinal.

I've also had requests for the 2014 FCIAC football championship, my first Renegades broadcast, and my first game broadcast. I have a few others rolling around in my mind.

With the exception of Wednesday (leaving space for The Clubhouse), I'm going to try to play one each night at 5. That is subject to change, and please check my social media accounts as I'll update things there. I might play one earlier on Wednesday. We'll see.

Basically, any game from 1999 to today is up for being played so long as I have it in my archive. In some cases I'll have to convert it from cassette and I might just do that live for the fun of it!

Do you have a request? Let me know!

What Were We Thinking?

THIS was Chuck Berry's only number-one single on Billboard's Hot 100

Among the Sunday nuggets:

- There have been so many hypotheticals and lists and brackets and so on.  The best season in baseball history and things like that.

So, I got to thinking about something. What's that thing that you might have liked 10, 15, 20, years or more ago and now look back at sheepishly?

You know: What were we thinking?

It could be music (I have many examples) or a movie or a fad or a TV show that just hasn't aged well.

It could be fanny packs (yeah, I know some are wearing them again) or...no, I'm not going to say anything that will almost certainly get me in some kind of trouble. You're on your own here, folks.

So, what is the thing that look back on and say to yourself, "What was I thinking?"

- The first Darien resident has died of COVID-19 (Darien Times). Obviously, condolences just aren't sufficient. Susan's reporting in the Darien Times has been so outstanding, along with simply her handling of it from a journalistic standpoint. She's an award-winning journalist and I think this is some of her best work. She has been tireless. Trust me, she does not want this praise (and lord knows I won't tag her in the social media post). She doesn't know that I wrote it.

She has talked with people on a daily basis who have felt like they've had nowhere else to turn. She's gone above and beyond her actual job of being a newspaper editor.

It again reminds me that there are still outstanding journalists out there. I thought this tweet by former MLB player Preston Wilson was great.

This needs to be said. Print journalism has been a major factor in keeping us informed and safe during this crisis. Most of the bad advice and lies came from TV talking heads who have done no research or our gov’t. Journalists are not the enemy of the people they are the people

— Preston Wilson (@PrestonWilson44) April 5, 2020

I realize I could be considered a "talking head" but a radio version of one. Hopefully I've been responsible with me talking and writing. I try.

- We're getting there. I believe it. Or, at least I want to believe it. There are people who are recovering. There have been leaders who have been wonderful at relaying information, besides the simple "death statistics." I don't play the game of politics and sides but I see it going on daily and I'm incredibly tired of it. At this point, we need to move the ball forward.

So, regardless of party, I see good and bad. The end. Beyond that, I don't care. I don't want anymore heartache. I don't want any more death.

I'm sick of it all. I thought this column by Mike DiMauro was so great. I saw Jemele Hill's tweet and it almost produced a post. It's unnecessary. I no fan of Bob Kraft but he did a lot of good. Don't make that about politics.

- Personally, I confirmed tonight that I won't be teaching at Connecticut School of Broadcasting for the foreseeable future. So, if you're counting, that's basically...er...everything. I do Doubleheader and The Clubhouse for a sense of sanity. I take part in those shows because I like them (when things are going well) and for you -- our audience.

Obviously it's a very scary time. Save for a few podcasts for Hunt Scanlon (and I'm grateful to them for the opportunities they've given me), I'm completely out of work, like so many others.

That aside, I'll be back on Doubleheader tomorrow with Fairfield Prep basketball assistant coach Garrett Hickey as my guest. More guests to follow this week (let's line them up!).

Continue to stay safe, and tell me what those things are that you liked that make you cringe now!

The Ghosts in the Workroom

The cane from the corner

There are some realities that one must face.

The Patriots will be a bad team eventually.

The Yankees will win a World Series again.

And a house that's been lived in for over 56 years will eventually change hands.

I've been facing that reality for a few years and have begun chipping away at cleaning it.

With the COVID-19 pandemic in full effect, there's no way anyone can help me currently so i've been on my own, facing the most daunting part: the workroom.

While my brother and I can each lay claim to it, there's no question whose dojo that workroom was.

My father.

Oh, it's changed some since 1963, and even more since 1989.

But, it's still his.

Except he wouldn't have allowed it to become the put of doom that it currently is, and I accept that blame.

There are reasons why things like that happen. No time to be in there, no answers for where certain things should go, even just exhaustion or laziness and, lastly, a certain level of sadness/ambivalence/resignation.

But. it's time to face the beast.

There was a crash one night some time back, and after looking around, I found...nothing. Later on, I found out that a an old (well, like everything else) table/peg board had rusted so bad that it crashed.

A bag of screws scattered on the floor.

I was finally able to clean it out today.

Yes, it looks like I've done nothing, and that's just because I'm really just getting started.

It's a time when you have to be heartless. You can't save a nail because your deceased dad might have bought it. Yet, to be honest, there's been nothing like that so far, save for some old pencils from his old company and a few other things.

I guess what I'm saying is there might still be ghosts are there. I cleaned a corner that probably hadn't been touched in a minimum of 20 years but it wouldn't surprise me if it was 50 years. In another pocket, I came across what I think was a cane that belonged to my father.

That did not get thrown out, for the record.

Those moments can get emotional as I discover something that tugs at me.

Not today. At least, not yet, although the cane took my breath away.

If anything, I felt a little resentment at him for not being here to be a part of this project.

Not really, but I chuckled to myself. Keep in mind, he'd also be 90.

I sit here tonight a bit sore from crawling around and carrying out garbage.

The project will continue.

If there are ghosts, they'll wait for another day.

Notes on a Broadcast (or Broadcasters)

I had the opportunity to critique the work of two young broadcasters today. Each one had different skill sets and were at different stages of their development.

Each one will get better with practice.

I took great joy in doing this and doing it for the right reason.

Not because I could make money off of them (I didn't) but because it was professional courtesy and my belief of paying it forward.

I love helping broadcasters achieve their goals and trying to bring out their very best. I also love passing on the wisdom of those that have walked before us.

These two are off to fine starts. They have opportunities that are great and have the humility that will carry them. They also understand that not everyone has the talent or ability to do this.

They have the right attitude. That matters. A lot.

*****
I'm very excited to announce "The Clubhouse" is returning next week. Mark Jeffers and Dave Torromeo joined me on "Doubleheader" today and, among our topics, we announced that not only would the show return, it would be on a network of stations!

So you can catch "The Clubhouse" on WGCH, Robcasting, and we'll be distributed for a limited time (and maybe more) by Sports Byline USA. That means potentially over 200 affiliates around the country and the Virgin Islands as well as Sirius-XM (on the Dan Patrick Channel -- Channel 211) and American Forces Network (Armed Forces Radio).

My understanding is the Sports Byline USA distribution will be via tape delay over the weekend.

If you don't know, "The Clubhouse" is sort of a sister program of Doubleheader in that we have guests (and some pretty prominent ones, I might add), commentary, "The Clubhouse Report" and some fun.

Normally broadcast from Grand Prix New York in Mount Kisco, NY we'll be doing the show via Zoom funneled to me and then passed onto WGCH.

If you're familiar with the show, then know that nothing will change despite the national rollout. It's still going to be Westchester/Fairfield/Putnam County-based with a national edge.

We're excited. Plus it's a sense of normalcy.

At Least Spell It Correctly

Yeah. They hate each other. Mantle, Murcer, Maris (1965)

I belong to a bunch of different groups on Facebook.

There are the road group and the sports groups and the radio groups and the the play-by-play group and the Mahopac groups and the Howard Johnson's (restaurant, not the former New York Met) group and on and on.

There are some that aren't active and others that I should probably just purge.

I tend to read and participate when needed.

In the case of the play-by-play group, that is the land of "Thou Shalt Not Criticize" and there are the police in the group who only want to read positive things. Thus, no "Joey" talk, if you know what I mean.

In fact, that was tried and quickly scuttled.

Which I find sort of sad and laughable. Shouldn't conversation be encouraged? Nah. Instead it's just a bunch of wanna-be's sitting on their high perch.

I was in a group about vintage baseball pictures today because I saw someone posted Mickey Mantle's 500th home run.

Jerry Coleman with the call on WPIX.


On one hand there was plenty of fawning over number 7, and deservedly so. The Mick was The Man, especially to the, ahem, "Boomer" generation.

In Yankee-land, of course he's on Mount Rushmore with Joe D, Gehrig, and The Babe.

But it's well-known that Mickey Mantle was no saint and my oh my were the haters out en force, with some even calling him "overrated" to go along with him being an overall miserable human being.

Now, was he the best dad? No. Best husband? No.

But he was also a great teammate, a great friend, and most of all, a pretty fantastic ballplayer.

So it was that I was reading a lot of vitriol about Mantle which, to be honest, I understood. Haters are going to hate, they say.

I mean Mantle (who wasn't a miserable human being as far as I know) is generally regarded as an icon but he's also -- GASP! -- a Yankees icon. Thus it's haterade time.

Then came one that accused Mantle of being so horrible that he said bad things about -- ready? --

Deep breath...

Bobby...

Mercer.

Yes. MErcer.

Just pure hatred between them

I read it and initially ignored it.

I read more in the thread and it was repeated. So I weighed in.

"Bobby Murcer was a pallbearer at Mantle's funeral and they were fairly close," I wrote. "I know in the one time that I interacted with Mantle he was kind."

I didn't even add that Murcer wore number seven in Chicago with the Cubs in honor of his friend.

I was willing to let it go.

He made a snide comment about fanboys and those who were fawning. Still calm, I responded again.

"Hmmm," I added. "I don't think that was me but you do you."

Nope. He wasn't done.

"Try reading the comment again," is the best way I can paraphrase what he said.

So I called out his condescension and decided to let him know that "if that's you way you want to play this game, try spelling MURCER correctly. We're done here."

A few minutes later, that portion thread was gone.  Deleted.

I don't normally play grammar police. I let most of it go, and goodness knows I make my share of mistakes. I was willing to let the spelling error go.

But once I saw the line had been crossed, it was game on.

And, quickly, game over.

The "Woody Woodpecker" Show

I lost it today.

I've had enough of the selfishness and obstinance.

So, I tore into a 12:53 rant that co-starred Woody Woodpecker.

Yeah. That happened.

Why? Well because I lost my mind.

Look, for every person that says they're being smart, why are they then being so obstinate, as if "The Man" is making everyone hide? It's a pandemic. The numbers are real. A six-week old died today of COVID-19 complications.

I can't go through the outrage again here in written form, so I've posted the audio below.

I'm not hiding. I'm doing what I have to do, and I don't begrudge anyone who needs to go out and is being safe. I was out of the house far more than I was in it today -- but it was stuff I HAD to do.

It's the irresponsibility that's making me explode.

So, after being beaten down, I spoke out. I was so flustered I said "Thursday."

But, I needed to say this.


Listen to the rest of the show here.

I'll Start With "Thank You"

A healthcare worker sits on a bench near Central Park, March 30, 2020. (REUTERS/Jeenah Moon)

Thank you.

It's not enough but it's all I have.

The thank you goes to everyone on the front line of this pandemic.

My sister works in a medical office. She has been administering COVID-19 tests. We're not good at being soft and emotional, so I'll write my admiration for her here, not tag her in it online, and move along.

But she's just one example of the doctors, nurses, EMT's, and everyone else in the medical world. I have several in my family and, simply, they rock.

Not to be forgotten are the police and corrections officers and firefighters who are exposed on  a consistent basis. I have those in my family as well.

They're the heroes as the numbers grow frightening (as if they weren't already).

Thanks is so trivial. But, sometimes, it's something.

I read and hear the horror stories from all over. New York, as has been noted, is the true epicenter, and we haven't reached the peak.

Yet I continue to read things from people who are being completely irresponsible. They'd rather risk themselves (and others -- which seems to get forgotten) as opposed to staying at home.

While those on the front line HAVE to put themselves at risk.

I have no polite way to process that.

There are many other people at the front of this. Think about the sanitation workers and those in food establishments and other "essential" workplaces. They deal with the public on a daily basis and they're at risk also.

So, again, thank you.

I'm beyond grateful that March is over. It's a month that is a free fall of emotions and I chose to basically ignore it all this year, save for acknowledging the anniversary of my first day at WGCH (yesterday).

Now, we can add the memory of a pandemic to March.

May we all see hope and better days in April.

#TheBronxBracket

So flawed. So infuriating.

I wasn't going to write about this.

Nope. Too many brackets.

And then I saw the first round results and, well, here we are.

The Yankees have a bracket: The Bronx Bracket. Oh, wait, everything is a hashtag (I'm guilty): #TheBronxBracket.

We'll start in the Yankees Origins era. It was fairly straightforward, as Joe DiMaggio's 56-game hitting streak (the top seed) in 1941 raced by Spud Chandler's 1.64 ERA in 1943 when he won the Most Valuable Player. Lou Gehrig's speech from 1939 (the 2-seed) topped the Yankees donning the pinstripes for the first time in 1910s.

Babe Ruth's 60 HRs in 1927 (#8) beat Ruth hitting a 575-foot homer. Gehrig's triple crown in 1934 (5) knocked off Ruth hitting the first HR in all-star play (1933). The Yankees getting Ruth from Boston in 1919 (#4) blasted "Happy" Jack Chesbro's (still a record) 41 wins in 1904. Ruth's "called shot" in 1933 (#3) took care of George Mogridge's no-hitter form 1917.

We're fine so far. I'm even OK with the 10-seed (Yankee Stadium opening in 1923) beating the first World Series title in 1923. But Babe Ruth saying farewell to baseball in 1947 (#6) is an important moment and it was beaten by Gehrig's 2,130 game-playing streak. Well, OK. Fair enough.

I'd take DiMaggio's streak over the 60 home runs, Ruth coming over from Boston, the "Called Shot," and Gehrig's speech. DiMaggio's streak would knock off Ruth from Boston and Gehrig's speech tops the Called Shot. I'll take Gehrig's speech out of this bracket. It's the greatest speech in sports.

Now to the Mid-Century Marvels (1949-1975):
The top seed is Don Larsen's perfect game (1956) and beat Yogi Berra winning back-to-back MVP's. Whitey Ford's scoreless streak in the World Series (#9) beat Billy Martin's 12 hits in the '53 Fall Classic. The fifth-seed Bombers' five-peat (yes, FIVE in a row) took care of George Steinbrenner buying the team in 1973. An upset took place with Bobby Richardson's six RBI's in Game 3 of the 1960 World Series besting the four-seed: Elston Howard breaking the Yankees' color barrier in 1955. For the record, I voted for Ellie.

The Mickey Mantle fans took their guy as the 11-seed (Mick's 565-foot home run at Washington) bested Bobby Richardson's catch of Willie McCovey's line drive to seal the '62 Classic (#6). The Mick's 1956 triple crown (#3) topped his "Day" in 1969 and his 500th home run (#10) beat Allie Reynolds' TWO no-hitters in 1951 (I voted for Reynolds). Roger Maris -- 61 in '61 (#2) -- beat Whitey Ford's 14-inning shutout.

Not too bad overall. To me, Larsen beats Whitey's World Series streak, the World Series 5-peat knocks off Richardson's six RBI's, Mantle's triple crown beats his 565-foot HR, and Roger Eugene Maris better beat Mantle's 500th. Just saying. After that, it's Larsen over the 5-peat, and Maris over the Mickey's triple crown.

The finale is tough. Roger in '61 or Don Larsen. I tossed a coin and Maris won.

To The Reign of the Boss (1976-2000)
The 98-00 three-peat (#1) beat Jeffrey Maier while Bobby Ray Murcer (#9) beat Jim Leyritz's clutch World Series home run in 1996. You know I voted for Bobby and those five RBI's (and I have some issues with the seeds of this whole thing). David Cone's perfect game (#5) surpassed Ron Guidry's 18 strikeouts (nope. I voted for Gator). That one isn't fatal. I also agree with David Wells' perfect game in 1997 (#6) beating Doc Gooden's no-hitter (1996) and Jim Abbott's no-hitter (#7) over Dave Righetti's no-hitter. Lastly, Reggie Jackson's three home runs in Game 6 of the 1977 World Series are rightfully superior to Donnie Baseball hitting home runs in 8-straight games.

We don't have time to get crazy over those that weren't included, like the 1984 batting crown race or Mattingly's "Hang onto the ROOF!" home run in the '95 playoffs. We'll deal with what we have here.

But...

Now, look. I was at Game 1 of the '98 World Series when Tino Martinez hit a grand slam. It was a seminal moment in my life. No question. But that -- that? -- is better than Chris Chambliss' pennant-winning home run in 1976 (#4), ending a 12-year absence from the World Series that felt like purgatory?

Or -- more-glaringly, folks who don't realize baseball dates prior to 1996 -- Mariano Rivera's playoff scoreless inning streak (the FOURTEEN SEED FOR BABE RUTH'S SAKE) topping Bucky...

Effing...

Dent (#3).

You deserve to have your voting rights revoked.

I don't even know if I want to finish voting with what is left. It's like the carnage of the Yankees-Red Sox fights in the 70s (go look them up). Where's Graig Nettles in the '78 Series in all of this? OK, I'll be a fanboy and vote for Murcer because this bracket is such a blasted embarrassment. Reggie's three homers or the three-peat will probably win, but I'm disgustingly horrified.

Consider this a protest.

Lastly, "Expanding an Empire" (2001-2019)
The top-seed is Aaron Boone's ALCS walk-off and, thankfully, it topped Aaron Judge's 52 home runs in 2017. Stupidly, they put Derek Jeter's "flip play" (#8) up against his dive against the Red Sox and "The Flip Play" won. His 3000th hit (#5) passed the 2009 championship while "Mr. November" (#4) bested the night he passed Lou Gehrig to become the hit leader for the Yankees. Mo's career saves record (#6) beat Tino Martinez's game-tying home run in the 2001 World Series, while Hideki Matsui's 2009 World Series Game 6 performance knocked off Raul Ibanez's performance in Game 3 of the 2012 ALDS.

The "Johnny-come-lately's" struck again, as Didi Gregorious' wild card home run in 2017 (how this is a seven-seed is beyond me) beat Scott Brosius' game-tying 2001 World Series home run (how this is a ten-seed is beyond me). Lastly, Jeter's last hit in New York (#2) beat A-Rod with 10-RBIs in one game.

Um...where' Mo's last game? Or A-Rod's 600th? Or 500th?

Anyway, I'll spare you further analysis (this has gotten long enough). In my opinion, Boone's home run is the winner, hands down. Yes, even over "The Flip Play."

So the final four are Gehrig's speech, Maris' 61 in '61, Bobby Murcer for Thurman Munson (that's my protest pick), and Aaron Boone. It's not easy, but Gehrig beats Maris and Boone beats Murcer.

I'll take Gehrig's speech.

And, thus, I've wasted enough of your time for one night, other than to serve you a delightful reminder why, most of the time, fans should not vote on things like this if they want to be taken seriously.

STOP!

Who thinks this is OK? (Parking lot of DeCicco's in Jefferson Valley, NY)

OK, I've had enough.

We've tried to run a fine line between anxious and upbeat here.

Tonight, I'm mad.

Depending on your interpretation we're around three weeks into this pandemic. Yet, somehow, so many people are not getting it.

The stories are awful. Here's one from Susan about a healthy woman from Darien who suddenly picked up the COVID-19 virus.

This story could be worse (spoiler alert) but, well, read it for yourself.

This thing is bad and, if you don't think so -- if you REALLY think we're overreacting at this point -- wouldn't it at least be prudent to pay the warnings a little mind?

I mean, is there anyone stupid enough to think this is a hoax at this point?

This going to impact everyone somehow.

I know friends of friends who have died from it.

It has now impacted my family.

I can't go to the grocery store without being very concerned, and that's the only place I go these days.

And yet -- yet -- there are those still gathering in groups like it's a big joke.

Read that again: a joke.

There are those dumb enough to have parties. Some of those parties are actually "Corona" parties.

Oooooh...what a contrarian you are! So edgy!

You're an ass is what you are.

From the dopes who went to Florida for Spring Break -- "If I get corona, I get to corona"-- to those at Mardi Gras to people who think they can gather for any ol' reason (sports practices, neighborhood parties, even weddings) I seriously have to ask:

Serious question: what is wrong with you?

(OK, maybe not YOU...but you. Or you. But not you.)

This thing isn't being picky. Like cancer, it doesn't discriminate.

Tom Hanks. Rita Wilson. Princes Charles. Doris Burke. Boris Johnson. Idris Elba. James. Dolan. Rudy Gobert (forever the answer to a trivia question). Kevin Durant. Just a small sample of the "famous" names to be receive positive test results for coronavirus.

And, tonight, musician John Prine is "critical."

I mean, what more do you need?

I know the first selectman of two towns personally, and both have had to close segments of their respective towns because people would not stay away in groups.

At this point, I don't care who it is or why.

I have a mother that I have to look after.

I also have to be slightly concerned with myself.

This is easily summed up: stay home. Go out for necessities (food/life/death-type of stuff).

The sooner you do it -- the more you do it -- the sooner it will all be over.

I'm not working. My son has to go to school via computer. He's losing his senior year. He might lose his graduation and prom.

People are losing a lot.

But stop bitching about it, sack up, binge watch something or read or whatever, and make smarter decisions.

Let's get this over with.

*****
One last thing, and it's about that picture.

Honestly, who throws (or drops) their gloves in the parking lot of a grocery store (or wherever) and thinks that's OK?

I was in another parking lot where there were four pairs on the ground.

It's unnecessary and gross, plus it puts those cleaning that up (because you're too good to do it yourself) in danger.

I'm a little tapped out with society tonight.

Let's hope for better stories tomorrow.

Stay safe and I'll see you for Doubleheader at 4:00 p.m.

Frank Sinatra and The Beatles and Nov 1968

(Obviously photo courtesy of Alamy)

This is just another one of those nights where I don't have a clue what to write about.

I've tried a few hours ago.

I stopped for dinner.

I sat down and started watching the latest season of Doctor Who to clear my brain. Funny thing, this Doctor is. I absolutely adore Jodie Whittaker and her performance of the 13th Doctor. I like her companions.

But the stories have largely been meh and my trusty Whovian -- my son -- has almost no interest in watching, so I'm watching it alone.

Anyway, while thinking about a topic and pondering a post about nothing (it worked for Jerry Seinfeld), Susan texted me with an idea. She always has ideas. I'd love to be more like her when I grow up.

How about the movie that was number one on the day you were born?

Curiously, I've never looked. I know a few things about the day I was born.

- There was an ice storm and my parents slid to the hospital. That should have been their first clue.
- The number one song was "Hey Jude." In case you don't know, that was a song by The Beatles.
- Speaking of the lads, they released their eponymous album -- The Beatles -- in the UK on my birthday. It was released in the US three days later. Literally everyone calls it "The White Album."
- Johnson was president. No further political statement to be made.
- The Detroit Tigers had just won the World Series over the Cardinals.
- The Colts were rolling through the NFL and they had no chance of losing to whatever the AFL sent to the third Super Bowl, right? Although those Jets were a feisty bunch. Still. No chance.
- On TV that night, NBC aired an. Episode. Of. "Star. Trek." (It has to be said like Captain Kirk). Later on, the Peacock had a nighttime version of "Hollywood Squares." Frankly, TV wasn't very impressive that night otherwise, save perhaps for "Gomer Pyle, USMC" over on CBS.

And the answer to the number one movie? Seems it was a groovy, doobie-doobie-doo detective movie called Lady in Cement. The movie starred Frank Sinatra (baby) as a private investigator named Tony Rome (the movie is a sequel to Tony Rome in 1967).  Raquel Welch co-starred.

Overall, the movie received mixed reviews and was a loss to studio 20th Century Fox.

According to Wikipedia, Roger Ebert said, "In the movie's few good scenes, Sinatra once again painfully reminds us what a controlled, effective actor he is."

Doesn't sound like it was a ring-a-ding classic in the Sinatra canon like Ocean's 11 or any of his other movies.

Still, it's Sinatra, so that's something.

These are the things that are amusing us during this pandemic, but it beats going out when we should be sheltering in place.

My Friday Night

James Harrison after his INT return...or me after I watched that game

Time is tight tonight but there's enough time to say hello.

I made the decision to bring my son here tonight for the weekend. You might disagree but he has been quarantined and he social distances as well as anyone. He'll stay in his room, come out to eat or take a shower, and maybe pet Chico.

And I'm glad he's here.

I watched a replay of Super Bowl XLIII tonight, and my heart raced as if I didn't know the outcome. Obviously, I did but I was still nervous as the Steelers had to rally late to beat the Cardinals. I did a bit of writing on that night in 2009 (five posts!), including a collection of thoughts during the second half.

Sean was with me that night also. It's among many memories of that evening. He and I had been in Pennsylvania that day, with made me happy because I didn't think too much about the game. I remember placing a phone call to see if anyone would be joining us at our house and getting told...um...no.

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

I remember being probably as amped as I've ever been for almost any game (part of the reason? Read between the lines of the last two paragraphs and you'll see I needed some happiness).

I was...in short...a maniac. Sean -- ever the trooper -- eventually went to bed and slept through the fourth quarter.

It was just me for the roller coaster of emotions of the final fifteen.

Pittsburgh 27, Arizona 23.

It was a totally different time in my life.

*****
I've rebuilt my home studio for probably the seventh time in two weeks. It looks like one of my old mixers might be dying (unless someone can help me save it). But I had a good talk with Dave Torromeo and Mark Jeffers after Doubleheader today, and we're gearing up for some "at home" Clubhouse shows, beginning this Wednesday at 7:00 p.m. If you're on Zoom and know how to handle, you too might wind up as a guest!

More to come on that topic.

Let's regroup and get the weekend going. But first, words of wisdom from an old friend (and of the few who talk about praying without me turning it off).

It's Opening Day but It's Not

The first pitch of 1993 -- Jim Abbott to Brian McRae

It's always on the calendar.

OPENING DAY.

Not description needed. Not Opening Day of a new Wal Mart or Opening Day of school or Opening Day of other sports.

No. They get their own description. Opening Day needs no qualifier.

It's Madonna. It's Cher.

It's The Babe. It's The Mick.

It's Opening Day.

Of baseball season.

Yes, I know it's a bit early this year. Er. Wait. It WAS a bit early this year.

And I was resigned to it not happening. Nothing we can do and we'll get things going...um...eventually.

But today -- THE day -- it hit home.

The sun is shining (in New York) and it would have been 60 degrees in Baltimore for Gerrit Cole's first pitch against the Orioles (or whomever you were looking forward to watching)

It would have been baseball.

The best openers have a touch of a chill and the sun shining. Yes, there are exceptions, like when Hideki Matsui electrified Yankee Stadium with a grand slam a day after a snow storm dumped on New York.


It's Bob Feller pitching a no-hitter. It's Tuffy Rhodes hitting three home runs. It's Derek Jeter homering in his first opener (holy cow!). It's Andy Pettitte in the snow. There are others, of course.

Like Raul Mondesi in 1999 (and listen to the sweet sounds of Vinny on the call).


It was April 9, 1981 and the Texas Rangers were in New York to face the Yankees. It was a day game. It should ALWAYS be a day game (yes, that's a rule of mine). I rushed home from Austin Road Elementary School to watch the game on channel 11.

By the time I was in high school, I was working the ear phone move, not caring what Mrs. Rundle in English class thought. Besides, she gave me a hard time for writing too much about baseball. Hmm. How's that worked out?

A scan of the lineup: Willie Randolph, Jerry Mumphrey, Dave Winfield (first game as a Yankee), Bob Watson, Lou Piniella, Rick Cerone, Graig Nettles, Dennis Werth, Bucky Dent.

Crap. No Bobby Murcer since a left-hander, former Met Jon Matlack, was pitching.

Another note of interest: my Facebook friend Billy Sample had a sacrifice fly for the Rangers.

But the Yankees built a 6-3 heading into the seventh.

The Yankees loaded the bases, and who did manager Gene Michael (in his first game) send to pinch hit? Bobby Ray Murcer, of course.

Watch him flick his wrists at the Stever Comer offering.

Boom (Phil Rizzuto and Frank Messer on WPIX).



I bounced out of the house, bat and ball in hand. Didn't care who wanted to play. It was time to go hit so Wiffle balls.

I would go to several openers. I saw the World Championship banner get raised after 18 long years in 1997. I saw a 17-13 slugfest in the Bronx between the Yankees and Athletics in '98.

You always knew you were likely getting a great pitching matchup, especially if it was the real first game of the season (as opposed to the home opener, depending on the year). So, in the 90s, that meant you might see Roger Clemens for the Red Sox while the Yankees might have Andy Pettitte or Jimmy Key.

Or Charles Hudson (in 1987).

In 1993 (the picture above), the Yankees came back to the Bronx for the home opener after a 3-3 road trip in Cleveland and Chicago (the White Sox -- not stupid interleague play). Newly-acquired Paul O'Neill had four hits to beat his current broadcast partner David Cone as the Bombers won 4-1.

In 1994, the opener at Yankee Stadium felt like it was on a rocket ship. With no pennants or playoffs since 1981 and no championships since 1978, the natives were a bit restless.

In the bottom of the first, facing Kevin Brown and the Rangers, Luis Polonia and Wade Boggs both singled. I remember thinking that if Don Mattingly did literally anything, we would launch into orbit.

He flied to left, but Danny Tartabull delivered a sacrifice fly. One-nothing after one.

Tartabull and Mike Stanley homered and the Yankees cruised to a 5-3 win, beginning what we thought was a magical summer after the Rangers won the Stanley Cup and Knicks came within a shot of a NBA title.

Then came the baseball strike and it was all over.

Each Opening Day is special. I love the introduction of the starting lineups along the base paths. A marching band might play (I remember Brien McMahon High School from Norwalk was frequently there). The bunting is hanging off the upper decks. The grass looks extra green, as if it's the first time you've seen green grass since last October.

The national anthem feels different because there is always a live singer and it just feels like it was time to play ball. The anticipation is reaching a crescendo with the "Oh, say does that star-spangled banner yet wave" line.

Then comes the ceremonial first pitch. It could be Joe DiMaggio (or now it's guys like Mariano Rivera and Paul O'Neill). But, it could be someone different, like North Carolina head coach Dean Smith, days after winning a national championship in '93. Smith did the honors at the request of former NC State coach Jim Valvano, who considered doing so a bucket list item, but was too sick to do so. Valvano died a little over two weeks later.

There's a different energy in the air. Every team has a chance (yes, even the Mets, despite the "Family Guy" joke). The smells are just right. Hot dogs, burgers, those roasted nuts out underneath the elevated train tracks. Things are just...right.

The bars are buzzing. The souvenir shops are packed. Everyone seems happy.

You're back with 50,000 of your closest allies -- many of whom you don't know but might become lifelong friends with (Mick, Steve, Eddie...). It's a bonding experience (save for the fist fights, which I never got involved in).

Finally, after all of the pomp and circumstance (and the various and sundry), it's game on.

The first pitch? Ball? Strike? Fastball? Curve? Low and outside? Belt high?

We won't know for probably a few months.

That's the hardest part of today. We're still trying to convince ourselves this is an endless rain delay.

"Play ball" will sound out soon.

I need it.

Pictures Say a Lot Sometimes

That picture is from 2008. Hold onto that thought for a moment.

But, I want to know something first. How do you all do it?

I read it everyday: "I've worn sweatpants for ten straight days."

"I haven't taken a shower."

"I wear the same clothes every day."

I read these comments constantly.

They are not me.

I shower everyday. I shave every couple of days. I'll do the occasional "Bachelor" style facial hair (yeah, I know that's the preferred look) until I see how gray I am, and then it's gone. Plus, it itches.

I get dressed -- jeans or whatever to drive mom to dialysis or go to the grocery store. I don't do a suit and I might be in a hoodie but I'm generally comfortable.

I wear sweats or track pants when I know I'm staying home.

And everything is clean.

I know. It's me. I'm fastidious in this way.

I guess I admire how you can do what you're doing but I also don't intend to change.

So there's that.

But, back to that picture. I remember that person. I remember that picture.

I remember that weekend.

It was Mar, 2008. It was Easter weekend and Sean and I went with my niece to another nieces house in Pennsylvania. It was the first time I had gone away with Sean. While there was family around, it was purely father taking care of son.

I was nervous and, to be honest, so was Sean. He didn't feel great as we grabbed breakfast at a Dunkin Donuts before we hit the road, but whatever he was feeling soon settled down and he seemed to have a lot of fun.

The picture -- a selfie before we called them that -- was taken with an old Panasonic digital camera. I just turned it around and took a shot while Sean and his cousins ran around on a playground.

It was a small sign that I was OK despite the tornado of life rolling around me. I could still smile and I had found a happy place with my nieces and the kids.

Sean and I began traveling a little more on our own. We joined family for camping trips, we drove to Richmond and Cooperstown and did some other drives including Vermont and several to North Carolina.

I knew what I was doing as a father. I knew I should trust my instincts and not worry about what a magazine said about raising kids.

The picture would be one of my first Facebook profile pics. It symbolized a small moment of empowerment.

I will survive. Hey hey.

I see the face that says we had a fun weekend and that there would be many more, despite whatever was to come.

And there was plenty to come.

It was really only just beginning.

Survival

I'm pretty sick of memes but I saw this one and thought it was pretty good

We'll get through this.

I keep telling myself that.

I keep telling you that.

But the news continues to be bad.

Oh, wait. I know. The media.

"We" suck. I see it every day, thanks in part to a president who has waged an all-out war on the industry that I'm a part of.

And that's another thing: man, I'm sick of the obsession with talking about 45 (both good and bad). Right now, harping on political nonsense isn't going to help things. Look, I'm frankly no fan of anything named Cuomo, but I'm honest and fair enough to say the governor of New York has been quite good through this.

But, let's spend an extra moment on the "horrible" media.

Yes, we have bad apples. We've been through that. Yes, there's a desire by some to be first as opposed to accurate. Yes, everything is about web clicks and ratings.

I could continue but I know it's a tough battle. It's also a battle I believe in.

There are many of us doing a solid, honorable job.

Please stop blaming "the media." It's the easy low-hanging fruit.

But, let's get back to us getting through this.

I'm the one who could use a little picking up. It's just gotten scary and demoralizing and we really haven't bottomed out yet.

Financially, this is deadly for me, if I may speak personally for a moment.

Then, of course, is the interpersonal impact.

What's the future? I know -- bite it off in small chunks. A day at a time.

I know I don't have it worse than anyone else. I guess I'm just babbling out loud.

There have been positives. I'm not normally home this much so I've been able to clean around the house -- both inside and out.

I've rebuilt my broadcast studio probably four times now and have even considered relocating it.

Anyway, I guess I need to keep reminding myself that we're going to get through this, and that's really why I struggled to put a post together last night.

We'll get through this.

Right?