The ALCS

(Photo: MLB)

 It's the two heavyweights in the American League in a best-of-seven series beginning tonight.

The New York Yankees.

The Houston Astros.

In short, the two don't like each other. No, it's not exactly Yankees/Red Sox, but I'm willing to bet the Astros are in the top 3 most hated among Yankees fans.

But it got me thinking about my ALCS history. For the love of Bob Costas, look away if that's not what you want!

The first ALCS I remember watching was in 1976 when the Yankees and Royals held the first of four battles over five years. This one was probably the most contentious, heading to a wild fifth game at Yankee Stadium (the ALCS was a best-of-five until 1984).

Of course, Chris Chambliss became a legend with a solo home run in the bottom of the ninth to send the Bombers to their first World Series since 1964.

They met again in a five-game dandy in 1977. The Yankees won that one as well as in 1978 when they beat the Royals in four.

It didn't go well in 1980, with George Brett hitting a blast into the upper deck off Goose Gossage to complete a three-game sweep. For what it's worth, that set things up for the "Pine Tar Game" in 1983.

The Yankees were back in the LCS in 1981, blasting the A's in three.

Then? With no wild card or any other way to the playoffs, the Yankees were out of contention for the next 15 years. They'd return to playoff action when the wild card came to existence in 1995 but they didn't advance to the LCS until the following year.

Oh yes, 1996. We know about Jeffrey Maier and Derek Jeter and umpire Richie Garcia and a call that would never happen in the instant replay era. But it did and it's part of lore and infamy. Regardless, the Yankees vanquished the Orioles in five games on their way to their first title since 1978.

The Indians got in the way in 1997 so the next LCS appearance in New York was a hard-fought 1998 battle with Cleveland. It took six games but the Yankees survived and moved on.

Baseball got its first look at a Yankees-Red Sox post-season series in 1999 and the New Yorkers took that in five. 

A third-straight ALCS for the Yankees in 2000 (this time, against Seattle) resulted in a Subway Series for New York as the Bombers bested Seattle in six games. The Mets won the NLCS and, well, yeah. Two New York teams met in the World Series for the first time since 1956.

The Yankees played in their fourth straight LCS in 2001, meeting the Mariners who had won 116 games that year. I don't know if Seattle was tired or the Yankees had a little something extra but, regardless, New York won the American League in five games.

While each one of these series could have been their own blog post, 2003 is a whole different animal. It was seven blistering games, including Pedro Martinez throwing Don Zimmer to the ground (and me spiking a microphone stand in the WGCH newsroom). Oh, there was also Manny Ramirez overreacting to an inside pitch, a fight in the bullpen, and...

Aaron Boone. There was Aaron Boone.

Then there was 2004. Yankees/Red Sox again. Red Sox won. That is all.

It took until 2009 before the Yankees returned to the LCS, winning in six games. They beat the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim of Orange County of California of the United States...

The Bombers were right back in the LCS in 2010, losing to the Texas Rangers in six games. I just remember feeling completely disgusted by that series.

I was even more disgusted in 2012 when the Yankees were swept by the Detroit Tigers. It was almost like they didn't even show up in Game 4, losing 8-1.

That brings our history walk (minus Dr. Costas) to 2017 and the first ALCS meeting with the Astros. Regardless of how they won, Houston took the series in seven games.

Those same two teams met again in 2019 and it took six games before the Jose Altuve home run off Aroldis Chapman resolved things. As much as people hated Chapman for smiling after he gave up the bomb, I got it. The smile said, "What the (bleep?)" to me.

I, however, was not smiling.

Nor did I smile when I saw Houston beat the Mariners on Saturday, punching another ticket to the ALCS.

And that's where we are.

The Yankees are in their 18th league championship series -- most by far. They're 11-6 in the previous 17. They were, at one time, almost automatic but times have changed. They are trying to make their first World Series appearance since 2009 and have to vanquish the Astros to do so.

Game 1 continues as I complete this post (and it's not going well).

A Donut

 

The picture? The post title? We'll get there.

I sort of don't feel like thinking tonight.

That's the conclusion I've reached as I sat here pondering -- you know, thinking -- what to write.

Sure, I sat through the Yankees' Game 5 win over the Ind...er...Cleveland.

I've read enough Bob Costas slander to last me for years. I accept that I'm in the minority as I enjoyed the broadcasts. I can't help but wonder what you all think of me as a broadcaster since I talk during the call, sometimes head down interesting paths to fill time, and love talking history.

You know. Like Bob Costas.

I digress.

I really like the Cleveland team. I love how they're feisty and use some speed with just a little power. Plus they have a dynamite bullpen, arguably the best closer in baseball -- trumpets not necessary -- and a Hall of Fame-bound manager.

They seem to get timely hits. They remind me of some of the 90s Yankees squads.

I lost no sleep over the "rock the baby" theatrics of Josh Naylor. I also didn't fret over the Yankees and their fans giving right back to Naylor tonight. "Let them play" is what baseball wants and, as such, it's what they're getting.

It was a fun five-game series. I would have rooted for the "Guardiac Kids" against the Houston Astros in the ALCS. 

However, the Yankees won so there's that. Now onto the best four of seven against Houston. Good times for my blood pressure.

We also tried to get my washing machine back in working order today and I think we're either there or very close. I'll likely try it out tomorrow to find out for sure.

So there was enough going on where I felt like I didn't need to put much thought into a post tonight.

Oh, and I'm sorry to say that I won't be in Trumbull this year for Career Night at Madison Middle School. I've gone several times, first at the urging (order) of Paul Silverfarb. After that, the school asked me and I kept saying yes. However, Greenwich is playing ... Trumbull on Thursday night in football.

So I'll be back next year.

I actually enjoy it because it allows me to spend, basically, thirty minutes explaining how cool (and challenging) it is to be a sports broadcaster. The students and families seem to like it as well. 

I'll miss it but duty calls at Cardinal Stadium.

Oh, the picture? The donut? That showed up in my memories this morning. Here's the caption that is associated with it:

My son missed the bus today because he wanted a donut. He texted me and I said I was on the air, so his grandmother helped him out. He sent a donut home for his dad. That kid is the best.

I really try to not wear people out with "Sean Stories" be it on social media, the blog, or on the air. I'm probably still guilty and apologize. 

There's no question we have an amazing relationship and I'm extremely proud of him.

But I really don't remember the background of the donut story. I think he was getting one at school and missed the bus. Thus my mom went and picked him up.

And he wanted me to have a donut. 

Sometimes, the simple kindness of a son wanting his father to have a donut is enough to bring a smile. There's no need to be heavy-handed.

I could use a donut right now.

Game 5

Joe Torre at Yankee Stadium on Sept. 25, 2001 | Art or Photo Credit: Getty Images

The fifth game of the 2022 American League Division Series has just been rained out. They waited nearly three hours before deciding that there was no window to play the game tonight.

The Yankees and Cleveland will play tomorrow at 4:07 p.m. The winner goes to Houston to open the American League Championship Series on Wednesday.

The teams wanted to play tonight but it wasn't meant to be.

Game 5 in this round is the equivalent of Game 7 in other rounds. It's a winner-moves-on and loser-goes-home game.

It reminded me that I once got to go to a Game 5.

It was 2001 and, well, I don't need to tell you what we were all feeling in Oct of that year.

I went to Game 1 of the same series. It was the first time that I'd been in New York City following the events of September 11, 2001. It just felt weird. As I drove through Yonkers, at a crest on the New York State Thruway near Yonkers Raceway that afforded a view of the NYC skyline, I saw for the first time the absence of the towers.

The Stadium was hopeful but it felt different that night. That extended to the field where the Yankees felt flat, losing to the Oakland Athletics, 5-3. They would lose again the next night to go down two games to none.

The next two games were in Oakland and the Yankees had zero margin for error. In Game 3, Mike Mussina and Mariano Rivera scattered six hits. The Yankees had just two hits but one was a home run by Jorge Posada. 

Final score: Yankees 1, A's 0. Oh yeah, Derek Jeter also completed "The Flip Play."

Game 4 went much smoother as Bernie Williams drove in five runs in a 9-2 victory. Thus, Game 5 was set for Monday, Oct 15 at Yankee Stadium.

I had no intention to be there but I was offered two tickets from WGCH and I couldn't say no. My friend Mike joined me and we made our way to upper deck seats near the right field corner.

The energy simply felt different from Game 1 but the atmosphere was tense. New Yorkers are known for being tough and resilient and the crowd was ready.

Then Johnny Damon led off with a double. Pretty soon, it was 1-0 Oakland.

The A's tacked on a second-inning run to take a 2-0 lead.

The Yankees struck back in the last of the seconds, stringing together hits to tie the game. Alfonso Soriano singled to knot it up.

The Yankees added single digits in the third and fourth to open up a 4-2 lead but Oakland cut the deficit to 4-3 in the fifth, spelling the end of the night for Roger Clemens. A David Justice pinch-hit home run in the sixth opened a two-run lead again.

Of course, Jeter (the guy with the bad defense, am I right?) made a diving catch into the crowd.

The crowd felt like a big community. While it's always that way among Yankees fans, it was different that night. Given the circumstances of where we all were emotionally in the fall of 2001, it felt like everyone was on even better behavior than usual.

In short, we all sort of wanted that victory really bad.

Still, it was tense.

The Yankees bullpen helped ease that as Mike Stanton led to Ramiro Mendoza. 

In the eighth inning, the bullpen door opened, and Mariano Rivera emerged.

While he's human and had failures, they didn't happen very often.

He allowed a leadoff hit in the 8th to Jason Giambi but made quick work of the next three hitters.

The Yankees went quietly in their half of the stanza. Three out remained.

By now, we were all on our feet. Strangers nervously and hopefully it could be closed out by the great Mariano.

Olmedo Saenz grounded to second.

Greg Myers was caught looking.

Pinch hitter Eric Byrnes was the last hope for Athletics, winners of 102 games that season.

Byrnes worked the count to two balls and two strikes. The crowd, as is custom, was clapping rhythmically. The anticipation of wrapping this series up was palpable.

Mariano dealt a belt-high cutter.

Byrnes swung.

And missed.

Game over. Series over.

With that, Rivera spun around like a top on the mound. Posada held the ball triumphantly high.

There was a cathartic release of noise. High fives in the crowd. New York mayor Rudy Giuliani (let's ignore who and what he is now) hugged those around him.

On the field, the triumphant Yankees were business-like. Though this wasn't a Friday night in May, it also wasn't a crazy dogpile either. We still didn't quite know how to act in those days following September 11. Most celebrations in sports were restrained.

Yankees manager Joe Torre -- recognizing the significance in this New York moment -- went and brought Giuliani from his seat onto the field to join the moment.

I just remember a lot of smiles. This one felt different.

Frank Sinatra's "Theme from New York, New York" was sung by 56,000 with zest.

Just about a month earlier, Mike Piazza had hit a home run that made Shea Stadium explode. 

The Yankees hadn't had that moment yet. I'm not sure this was it either but it was a start.

Oh, they'd get there. They'd beat Seattle to advance to the World Series and, if you know how it all played out, then you'll recall the series of events.

President Bush threw out the ceremonial first pitch before Game 3 of the World Series in New York.

Derek Jeter became "Mr. November" to end Game 4.

Scott Brosius tied Game 5 dramatically. The place shook. I was there.

And, in fairness, the Arizona Diamondbacks scuffed the great Mariano in Game 7 to win the World Series.

Game 5 with the Yankees and Cleveland will happen tomorrow and the tension will be felt throughout Yankee Stadium.

I'll feel it as well.

From my seat at home.

A Drive in the Park

 

(Photo: Town of Greenwich website)

It's Sunday and it's (hopefully) the last time I have to visit the laundromat for the foreseeable future.

In truth, it isn't an awful task. I load things in a couple of bags, drive the stuff over, stuff it in one washing machine for 30 minutes, remove it, and drive back home. Then I put it in my dryer.

My washing machine will be fixed this week.

While I wait I grab food at the nearby Greenwich Pizzeria or just sit in my car. Or, today, I sat on a bench as traffic whizzed by. 

I left the apartment in the fall uniform on a chilly morning: shorts, with layers on the upper body. Specifically, a t-shirt, a Steelers jersey* and a Yankees sweatshirt**.

* A Mean Joe Greene jersey because the defense needs to find the inspiration of the 70s to cause havoc on Tom Brady.

(Incidentally, I wrote this post back around 11:30 a.m. The final just rolled from Pittsburgh: Steelers 20, Buccaneers 18. I'm stunned.)

** Look, last night's loss was Yankees brutal. Historically brutal. As in the Yankees have never blown a lead of two or more runs when entering the ninth inning of a postseason game. They were 167-0. They're now on the verge of losing to a Cleveland team that has outplayed them. But I still have to show pride as opposed to whining about the postseason schedule or all other teams except my own.

I made my way through Bruce Park, which the Town of Greenwich describes as:

Robert Moffat Bruce donated his home (now Bruce Museum) and 100 acres to the Town of Greenwich in1908, making it the Town's oldest public park. Bruce Park includes sports & athletic fields, tennis courts, walking paths, ponds and waterways, and scenic views of Long Island Sound. The Bruce Park Playground is one of the most popular destinations in Greenwich for families with children. 

And, yeah, it was popular.

Kids were playing softball. dog walkers were out doing their thing. Bicycles and scooters dotted the roadway. Walkers and joggers moved around. Others were simply taking in the atmosphere.

I loved every piece of it as I slowly cruised through. There was a bustling but it wasn't overwhelming.

So much of what happens here will be compared to my hometown and, of course, that's because it was mostly all I ever knew. Yes, we had parks in Mahopac -- great parks. We had tons of wooded areas that I explored.

This is different for a variety of reasons, including how drivers on 95 can look right into the park as they move past Exit 3. 

As I came back from the laundromat -- mission happily accomplished -- the scene was fairly similar, though the softball game had packed up and left. 

Oh, believe me, it can be quite the "Greenwich" scene as well, as I've spied croquet being played. The participants decked out in their best all-white ensembles. Who cares? It's fun to see the whole thing, including tennis and whatever else I've noticed during the many drives through there.

I returned home. Sean is at work. The laundry is going 'round in the dryer.

Football awaits. 

Baseball later.

Preparations to take a deep breath after all is resolved will likely play out tomorrow on the radio.

Let the Haters Hate

 

(Photo: cbs8.com)

There are some walks of life where criticism can't be escaped.

Sports broadcasting is one of them and I am not immune to dodging arrows.

But we'll ignore the negative noise for a moment.

There were a couple of wonderful, meaningful interactions this weekend.

First, at Cardinal Stadium last night, I was greeted by a couple of fans as Sean and I got out of the car.

"I'm from San Francisco," the gentleman said. "I get to listen to you all the time out there."

He had kind words and, as if to prove he listened, he asked about my recent trip to the Bay Area.

I also enjoy pleasing fans. Now, while I don't want to be Phil Rizzuto, wishing birthday and anniversary greetings to every person, I'm not against the occasional fun note.

I got a tweet directed at me, asking for a happy birthday to a listener.

So I did it. Laughter was had, joy was extended, and the broadcast carried on.

Later, friend, colleague, and even boss Craig Jones told me he was listening and asked me to say hello to someone who had just discovered the LocalLive feed. Again, I was happy to do it.

Look, Chris Erway and I know what we're doing. We can dabble in distractions that can bring listeners a smile. It can also be entertaining but that's in the eye of the beholder. So long as it doesn't take too much away from the task at hand -- the game -- it's fine.

Again, we made people happy. Mission accomplished.

Greenwich won, beating St. Joseph by 10. The natives -- often restless (oh, and they were*) -- were happy as they left.

* Quick sidebar. A fan -- a few rows down -- was incensed at the officiating during last night's game. There was a huge disparity in penalties called, with Greenwich getting the majority of the flags by a wide margin. The fan below us implored public address announcer Nick Fesko to call out the officiating. 

The same fan also glanced toward me. I was having none of it. While I point out the number of penalties, I let that fact stand on its own. In the case of the public address announcer, he's not going to comment. Chris and I tried to make that abundantly clear on the broadcast but there may have been a hint of confusion.

In short, we were defending Nick. Hopefully, that clears it up.

We now return to the task at hand.

Today was Brunswick Day and the Bruins were 28-0 winners over Wyoming Seminary from Pennsylvania. 

The Crosby Field booth is set low, where a fan outside the window I use can hear the entire broadcast. To be honest, it always makes me feel awkward and interactions get my guard up.

To that end, I noticed a fan a few rows below me who turned around and looked at the booth a few times. Specifically, he was looking at me. Keep in mind, Chris wasn't with me today. He was with me last night.

After I ended the broadcast, the fan moved toward the window of the booth.

Immediately, I began putting bricks up to build a wall around me. It's nothing personal. I'm just more uncomfortable and shy than people realize.

All he wanted to tell me was that he was from Baltimore and watches the LocalLive broadcasts at home. He wanted to say hello and tell me that loved our work.

Nearby, a woman from Charleston, SC said the same and thanked me for the broadcasts as well as my own work.

These stories aren't to brag. They aren't to show off. If anything, I'm cringing as I'm writing them.

However, they're reminders.

Good reminders.

When the negativity comes in -- and it happens -- it can rattle. It has never mattered when or where. They can sting.

For me, anyway, I worry about the negative because I get concerned that it can impact my employment.

But -- more often than not -- there are many more words of kindness that fire me up to get right back to it.

These are just a couple of the stories.

For every bad, it's also always worth considering the source and the circumstances. That's why I see them, process them, and try to move on.

But they'll stick with me in the back of my mind.

Then either silence or kindness helps with moving on.

And oh yeah, my new friend from San Francisco told me to connect with him the next time I'm out there.

Yes. Some kindness goes a long way.

Country Mouse

 

Amtrak Acela rolls by

I've stayed in New York City. 

San Francisco.

London.

Chicago.

The point is that I've laid my head down in many more urban areas than where I grew up and lived most of my life. In Mahopac and Carmel, the nightly symphony was mostly created by nature.

In fact, literally, all of my homes were in fairly quiet neighborhoods. Oh sure, I had an apartment roughly across the street from a firehouse but they didn't sound their siren in the middle of the night.

Flash forward.

Greenwich, CT. 2022.

If you were to walk out in the backyard of my apartment -- and I very much DO NOT ADVISE THIS -- the first thing you'd come across would be train tracks. They serve Metro-North Railroad, Amtrak, and freight trains.

Beyond that lies Interstate 95.

After moving in, I quickly learned that the hum of traffic literally never stops. I've strolled into the living room in the middle of the night -- ah, peace and quiet -- only to have it shattered by the zooming of cars and trucks rolling by.

The trains are omnipresent but given that Metro-North does stop running trains overnight, it's not always something I hear.

Well, OK, let's go to last night.

I dozed off reasonably, only to deal with "Shadow," the new nickname for our over-named cat. Rascal, as I've mentioned, is fascinated by shadows from cars as they go by my bedroom window. To combat that, I have started putting a light on next to my bed that, for whatever reason, has been working.

With that settled, I was able to rest.

Then something awakened me in the 2 a.m. range. At least I think it was around there. It could have been the temperature, age, or whatever. 

I strolled to the kitchen and that's when I saw a bright light out on the train tracks.

Oh, and a crane. Clearly, trackwork was going on maybe a football field away.

I popped the window open nearby to see if the noise I was hearing was coming from there. Yes, it sure was.

OK, I thought, my room is away from that. We'll get through this. 

However, when something makes a louder noise on the tracks (like the train that is currently moving by as I type) then that's different. Sure enough, I could hear each crash of the efforts from the work.

Keep in mind this now, roughly, somewhere around three in the morning.

And a tip of the conductor's hat to the train that came by on another line and blew its horn!

Sleep wasn't happening. I read. I played Solitaire and Mario Kart on my phone. I read whatever nonsense had occurred online.

At least the cat wasn't a problem at that point.

It took some time -- I'm pretty sure it was well after five -- before my mind cleared and I slept for another hour or so. I was awake before 7 a.m. as I needed to get ready for my Friday morning sports chat with Tony Savino on WGCH.

As I said in the opening I have dealt with sleeping in New York and elsewhere and the hustle and bustle. To be clear, I'm also not saying the work on the train tracks was what kept me awake. 

But, I am saying it didn't help.

I should have put my noise-canceling headphones on but they're bulky to try to sleep with. Thus I need some earbuds but haven't caved to AirPods yet.

Well, I actually had an old pair that my niece gave me but they don't like going through washing machines. 

What this narrative comes down to -- as if you couldn't guess -- is that I'm just not a good sleeper.

With any luck, this will hopefully give you a peaceful sleep. 

I consider that a win.

(Football tonight at 7 as Greenwich plays St. Joseph. More football tomorrow at 1 p.m. as Brunswick hosts Wyoming Seminary. Catch Greenwich on WGCH, LocalLive, Robcasting. You can find Brunswick on LocalLive and Robcasting.)

A Poetic Gift

 

I went down to the mailbox right before I was due to go on the radio today.

A small box awaited. It sat there comfortably, not stuffed in.

I quickly returned upstairs with a bounce in my step.

A new book was in that box.

"Skipping Rocks: A lifetime of lines and verse" is the work of our dear friend Susan. She selected poems that she has crafted over most of her life.

I don't know how she did it considering she has multiple notebooks dating back to the 1980s on a variety of topics.

This project was something she had told me about a few times. So I was thrilled when she texted me not long ago to say she completed it.

As soon as I had the Amazon link I knew I had to have a copy.

Susan has shared some of her poems with me; her talent is unmistakable. Poetry is an art and, let's face it, most of us love poetry even if we don't know it.

Do you love music that includes lyrics? Do I need to point out that's, essentially, poetry? Now, granted, some songwriting is more poetic than others, but I think you get my point.

I've often said that Vin Scully's play-by-play was poetic.

So, yeah, poetry can be found in multiple ways.

I know Susan has a deep love of Emily Dickenson as well as a love of rhyme. 

And so this book was relevant and perfect for this time.

(I'll leave the poetry -- and rhyming -- to Susan)

While the book is 62 pages, I've been taking it in slowly to savor the words. 

I will assure you that you'll deal with a variety of emotions.

Each poem is a work of depth and the meanings can sometimes take a moment to register (at least for me). I'm fortunate to be close to the author if I have questions.

So far, "Service Roads" and "A Distant Highway" have especially stood out to me. Sure, in part because of the topic in the titles (hi, I'm a fan of roads) but additionally because Susan's work also contains surprises that pay off. It reminds me of her brilliant novella, "The Blacksmith" and the surprises contained therein. We still laugh about it.

I'm so proud of her for doing this. I told her it was a gift and I'm overjoyed to have a copy, just as I'm thrilled at the reaction it has received. I know what this meant to her. I know why she did it. I know the timing involved also.

It's so important to her and I'm excited to support it.

Additionally, the cover art is by her also, if you're not already bowled over by her breadth of talent (journalist, editor, poet, chef, artist, mother, Billy Joel savant, and so on). 

The book is available in paperback and Kindle form and, while I have come to really like Kindle, certain works deserve the physical copy.

Even when Sean is cursing me out for having so many books when we have to move.

Rhyme away, Susan. Keep the poems flowing.

Maybe it will lead to a second book.

My collection will be growing.

(Sorry. Again, you're the poet. I'll volunteer to read the audiobook if you ever want to do that.)

"Skipping Rocks: A lifetime of lines and verse" is available on Amazon and will also be available at Barrett Bookstore in Darien, CT. 

Wednesday Words

 

Hall of Fame broadcaster Bob Costas

So, happy hump day, friends!

Let's grumble about a few things, shall we?

1) Soccer.

Remember I told you yesterday about Brunswick soccer? Remember I also said I'd call their match today?

It's a long story but they're not streaming their games. They just forgot to tell me and it's all good. We move forward. I had fun practicing calling soccer as a radio broadcast.

2) "Bob Costas is trash."

Good lord, people. Costas is anything but trash. The thing is, as a consumer, you're used to the histrionics of whomever you listen to. In the case of a Yankees fan, that might be Michael Kay, for instance. You're used to his cadence. His voice is your summer soundtrack.

You expect a rising voice and "SEE YA!" on every Yankees home run. Of course, you also probably watch a game differently than I do.

Once upon a time, many postseason broadcasts were split between the teams participating in the World Series. Thus, it felt like it was Red Barber and Mel Allen every October since Yankees/Dodgers was a familiar show.

There were exceptions to this rule but, generally, a local announcer was involved in the World Series until 1976. Eventually, the locals were phased out in favor of the network play-by-play voice and an "expert" analyst.

Thus you get the arrangement that we've evolved into as of 2022 and, in my opinion, we're the lucky ones to get Bob Costas and Ron Darling on Yankees/Cleveland.

Twitter, of course, does not agree. Thus, the socials were alive with "Bob Costas is trash." So is Darling, apparently, but he gets a little bit of a pass.

The thing, of course, is that Costas doesn't do hyperbole. He doesn't have a notepad of witty sayings. He calls the game but, admittedly, does so sitting atop a throne. He has long been one of the wiser sages of sports broadcasting and was on his game again last night.

I've enjoyed his work for 40 years and think, with Vin Scully's passing, Costas is our best living baseball voice.

But, obviously, not all concur with that assessment. Many took issue with his storytelling, specifically a breakdown of the Boone family tree that eventually produced Yankees manager Aaron Boone. There is a lineage that leads back a few generations of Boone's in baseball. I remember Aaron's dad, Bob, who was a very good catcher in the 70s and 80s.

Across the way, in the Cleveland dugout, is manager Terry Francona, whose dad, Tito, played 15 seasons. Darling specifically recalled the players involved in the narrative, having faced some of them throughout his career.

Of course, those with a short attention span felt this took away from the call.

Baseball -- more than any other sport -- lends itself to storytelling. Sports broadcasting in general is wonderful for that. But, that being said, I've also been lampooned for doing the same. I hear it. I read it. But I don't intend to change my style. 

Costas doesn't do over-the-top. He knows the flow of the contest a lot better than Twitter does. He's a Ford Frick Award Winner for a reason. 

A Hall of Fame broadcaster.

And he's no doubt laughing at the criticism today.

Turner will not be taking Costas and Darling off the ALDS, despite what people online are saying.

Oh, and Twitter also felt the duo were "pro-Cleveland" and "pro-Yankees."

I listened. I watched.

They were neither.

They were two great pros.

3) Today is "Clubhouse Day!" Thus we'll be in Mount Kisco tonight at 7pm for "The Clubhouse." Mark, Dave, Bob, and I will be there to talk sports and enjoy a ginger ale or two. Come on out to Hotel MTK Mount Kisco at 1 Holiday Inn Drive. You can find us in The Hub -- the restaurant just inside the front door. We'd love to build an in-person audience to be a part of the show.

Now let's go make something of this day.

Soccer Solo

 

The Yankees are playing as I begin writing. 

Which is exactly why I've started writing tonight. I'm less likely to have a nuclear meltdown with my mind occupied.

So, there was soccer today. Brunswick hosted Greenwich Country Day School.

I turned down other jobs since I had committed to the game and didn't want to risk the job running into the soccer game.

I struggled to get a roster from GCDS but that's a constant source of frustration in the life of a play-by-play announcer as I've said. I'd work that out at the field.

So after doing a little shopping, I moved onto Brunswick's varsity soccer field. As parking can be an issue at the middle school where the field is, I felt it was best to get there so that I didn't have to carry things too far.

The soccer field is a nice facility and is only a few years old. It doesn't have a press box but it does have a small area at the top of a very small hill just off the side of the access road. It's the closest to a "media area" so that works. Of course, that also means fans gather around it as well.

I went about setting up at a leisurely pace. I wasn't panicked over the roster issue. As always, I just assumed it would work itself out.

Things were set from my perspective and I left a cable aside to run audio to the LocalLive camera when that arrived.

I strolled down the hill to the field to take in warmups when I approached the Greenwich Country Day School coach. He was wonderful and had just realized he didn't have something he usually had extras of. 

The roster.

He realized he had one but it was digital on his phone. In the moment, as opposed to texting it to me, he had me take a picture of his phone.

It was better than nothing.

I considered this a victory in that there was still time. I went back to my perch and wrote the roster off my phone onto a notepad. I grabbed a copy of the Brunswick roster. I was set.

Make it work. As always.

Still, as I wrote, I realized that the media area was still missing a camera and a camera operator. In the meantime, fans had gathered around me as I suspected they might.

In the end, no camera showed and I realized that, if this game was to air at all then I'd have to call it audio only on Robcasting.

Except I've never called soccer audio-only. 

I won't try to fool you. I'm just not comfortable enough to call soccer without video but I now had basically no choice. LocalLive didn't have the soccer game on their schedule and there was no camera operator for me to work with so my choices were 1) audio and 2) go home.

If you've met me then you know 1) was the only option.

So I tried and while I'm fairly certain there were only a few people that tuned in, I figure I didn't embarrass myself. No, I wasn't very good but I figure there's much worse and I can get better. Brunswick won the game 2-1.

Again, make it work. As always.

Oh, I was happy that the game was covered but wasn't thrilled that it was my own limited soccer play-by-play skills were featured. The same people that gathered around me and were interested in the broadcast pre-game kind of sauntered away following the game and I disappeared without a word.

Of course, I drove away befuddled by the whole thing. 

I beat myself up.

"I know I wasn't good," I texted.

I was told I was fine but I know better. 

But the bottom line is coverage, and that happened.

The game was called and the goals were recorded. 

In that job, I did my job.

I'll be back there tomorrow. 

LocalLive has it on its schedule. It will be a definitively better product.

*****

My guy Anthony Rizzo just hit a two-run homer to give the Yankees a 4-1 lead in the sixth inning in The Bronx. Funny thing about baseball, though. It's a nine-inning game.

Just ask the Seattle Mariners about that.

Oh, "The Clubhouse" is back tomorrow at 7 p.m.

Following, you know, soccer.

Mets Mourning

 

So, the dream ended last night.

The team had won 101 games but couldn't get past a talented and feisty San Diego Padres squad.

By the time the clock struck midnight, the New York Mets season had ended.

Sports aren't fair. They aren't meant to be fair. You have to play the games and nothing is just handed.

Except for Tom Brady but I digress. Oh, come on, you were likely thinking it.

You might be thinking that I have no business discussing this. I'm a Yankees fan. A Steelers fan.

My teams -- adding in the Knicks and Rangers -- have won 16 championships in my lifetime.

Though let's be clear, I don't remember the Knicks' titles. In fact, most people seem to think they were a dream at this point.

On the other hand, I know some heartbreak. Rooting for a winning team also means getting to the doorstep and not crossing the threshold.

I still lament 1981 and 1995 and 1997 and 2001 and 2004 (though nothing happened since I'm still in denial) and a couple of Super Bowls I prefer to forget.

I get that the Mets fan is still haunted by the late-season collapses of 2007 and 2008 and, well, let's just not talk about 2000.

The Mets fan would be well-served to not be "happy that we made the World Series" as if they so much as swung a bat. It's dog pile or bust.

Championship or nothing.

I'll be licking that same wound in a week or two.

Yet, as much as sports has been my life and I've been fortunate to work in that world, it doesn't define me. It's not entirely who I am.

What I'm saying is that the sun came up today. This stuff shouldn't define who we are.

After that horrible night when the Yankees lost to the Mariners in 1995, I got up, got dressed, and went to work the next day.

I did the same in 2004, not wanting to talk about the collapse to the Red Sox but I knew I'd have to.

The simplest thing to do is take the high road, smile, and congratulate the other team. It feels awful but it's (in my opinion) the right thing to do. 

So, today, the Mets fans would be wise to note the Padres played the better series. Internally, be mad at your team for laying the proverbial egg, because that's what happened.

But hold your head high. Maybe stay off social media. Also, perhaps avoid sports media. I'm talking from experience here.

I'm not mocking you, Mets fans. I know that you've dealt with quite a bit of your own hurt over the 60 years of your experience. All I'm trying to do is share my experience and how I've worked through it.

So after it's over, I congratulate the other team but I also wear my team's stuff to show I'm proud of them -- win or lose. Even as I'm seething at them.

As I said, I fully expect to deal with it again soon. I don't have a lot of faith in the Yankees.

But that's what sports do to us. We think we're done with them and then we dust ourselves off and climb right back in.

Sort of like "The Godfather" in that way.

Oh, it's going to hurt for me just like it's hurting for you today. 

Thirty teams started the season with the same dream. For some, it's more realistic than others. The Mets had a realistic chance to win a title this year and the frustration and disappointment poured out today.

Justifiably.

But the Mets consider themselves to be a direct descendent of the Brooklyn Dodgers. Well, you know what they used to say about the Dodgers after they'd come up empty every October?

Wait till next year.

Let this image burn in your soul

Follow-Up From Yesterday

 

Every post -- regardless of topic -- rolls around in my brain. Depending on the reaction (or lack thereof) I will reread it and break it down. But virtually every post gets a cursory "was that good?" or "did I go too far?"

One thing about last night's post I want to make clear is that I like the school we visited yesterday. Heck, I like basically all of the schools we visit. Sure, some really go out of their way to make us feel welcome (Ridgefield immediately comes to mind) but simply a smile and a hello are enough.

Middletown High in New York made sure they had our broadcast position marked and even got us a couple of bottles of water.

So what I'm trying to express is that there was no offense intended towards Williston Northampton in that post. It's a beautiful school and campus in a picturesque New England setting. The town -- Easthampton -- has a funky, fun vibe that Chris and I got to experience at dinner.

The leaves were turning and the colors were glorious. It was football and we get to describe it. What's not to love?

As I alluded to, I look forward to returning for the next visit, which will likely be in 2024.

It's just that, well, we're the media. We're often the enemy for a variety of reasons.

Did you know Chris and I were once seen as spies when we went to set up at West Haven? Greenwich was playing Xavier there in a neutral site game and we were early. So we strolled into the stadium to sit in the bleachers and wait for the booth to be opened. West Haven was practicing as we walked in.

The coaches took notice and asked us to leave. We explained we're a neutral party. We're broadcasters. We don't know what Greenwich runs and we're not going to tell them what we see. So I turned my back on their practice. Please note we weren't even paying attention to their practice to begin with.

We're not the enemy, yet Chris and I are often seen as villains for some reason. It's actually hysterical. We're just two guys who call ourselves "The A-Team" because that's how a top broadcasting team is referred to. It's a play on that.

We're the top sports broadcasting game team at WGCH because we're the only ones.

Since then, it's taken on a life of its own. It's fun. That's really all it is.

But I personally don't want to be a villain or the enemy.

I want to be a decent, reliable, respected broadcaster. 

But I hear so much about the media almost daily. Obviously, there is the political issue, and, yes, there's incredible bias in the media but there remain incredibly talented reporters and editors -- journalists, all -- who simply get the facts and report them.

Well, that's what I do with play-by-play, sports talk and, once again, Election Night coverage next month.

But I see bias. Don't get me going on who and where. Just know that I know.

Still, so much gets blamed on the media, especially when things go badly.

The simple fact is, we're not here to be cheerleaders. We're also not here to root against anyone. Yet, if anything, I'm going to lean more positively, especially when talking about high school and youth sports.

But, still, as a reporter, facts are facts.

As I've watched the Mets closely this weekend, I've also noticed an almost ridiculous amount of vitriol from fans toward the media.

Why? Because they're not homers, especially the beat writers, who tend to be a bit more hardened. Deadlines can do that to you.

And we're not homers either.

The main thing I want clear is I was only telling the story of yesterday's football game and broadcast. In the end, Chris and I both looked at it as great fun as we continue to establish a broadcasting standard.

*****

Joe Musgrove lets Mets fans "ear" it

The Mets' season just came to an end and I'll address it all on "Doubleheader" tomorrow. I feel for my friends who are the legit fans. It seemed like a special year for the Mets and I thought they had a legit chance of making the World Series but they came up really short -- at home -- in this three-game series against the San Diego Padres.

But, please, don't make excuses. I don't want to hear about Joe Musgrove, Vaseline, Mike Scott, umpires, or -- the subject of this post -- the media. The Mets failed, at home, in a stadium that wasn't even sold out for an elimination game.

We'll deal with all of it tomorrow.

The Wildcat Adventure

Brunswick beat Williston-Northampton today in football, 21-14.

Chris Erway and I were on the call from the field in Easthampton, MA.

So ends one of the more contentious buildups to covering a game in roughly 25 years.

Many schools expected WGCH to show up when Greenwich came to town.

To most of the schools I've dealt with over the years, they understand that our broadcasts and other media coverage is just that: coverage. 

Promotion.

And those who do it right are there to promote the athletes. You know that's my goal.

But, the other thing is that I'm not just there to promote the team I cover. I'm there to cover both teams.

In a perfect world, I'm able to talk to players and coaches and load up on stories. Then I can tell the stories.

The world is not perfect.

One thing that Chris is learning is that press facilities are different in the prep school world. What we have at Brunswick is a blessing. We have a press box that has enough room for both of us.

You may recall from last year that Avon Old Farms -- a wonderful school with great athletic facilities -- didn't have room for a traveling broadcaster, so I worked in the raucous bleachers that night.

We were told Williston's booth wouldn't have room for us today and it reached the point where I questioned if we should even go. Ultimately, after a lot of conversations, Chris and I decided to throw caution to the wind.

Oh, it was a big risk, as we stood the chance of taking a road trip only to be told that we couldn't broadcast the game. Thus we prepared ourselves to 1) Stay and watch the game or 2) Do something else.

I also had 3) Find a place to set up and just do an audio broadcast.

Well, we didn't have much guidance upon getting to Massachusetts. Oh, the first people we spoke to -- in fact, some of the only people we spoke to -- couldn't have been nicer and guided us to a parking spot.

"We just wanted to make sure you belonged," they said, smiling.

We wondered if we belonged also but yes, we very much did.

So, thanks to traffic delays that dogged us all the way, I felt that we didn't have a lot of time to ponder our setup. I made a decision: we'd stay in the bleachers, among the fans.

That was our booth. Chris Erway is ready for his first Massachusetts broadcast

 

We set up. 

We called the game.

We never had a problem.

Fans seemed unfazed (and the bleachers weren't very full, despite it being family weekend). In fact, everyone seemed unfazed.

Oh, and we were told the press box would be full. 

A fairly small pressbox

 

As in a public address announcer and another person, who I'm going to guess maybe ran the scoreboard?

We could have fit in there, despite it being small.

The thing is it doesn't matter. Just give me space. Give me access to a power outlet. We'll take care of the rest.

Williston apparently had a live stream of their own. A cameraman worked on the roof of the press box. No one called the game.

Brunswick -- the visiting team -- had a cameraman and a duo of broadcasters. To some, that seems extreme. To me, I want these schools to expect us to be there.

I want them to expect a professional broadcast that is often a bit lighthearted but boy do we know how to tighten things up in a close game. 

And we had a close one. A good one.

Williston looked unbeatable early. They were up 14-0 after one quarter. It took the Bruins until later in the second to get it to 14-7. They chipped away and tied it up in the third before taking the lead in the fourth quarter. 

Then, the Wildcats marched to inside the Bruins' 5 yeard-line. The Brunswick defense tightened up, the Wildcats made a mistake on a handoff, and a final incomplete pass ended it.

You can listen to the archived broadcast here.

Chris and I packed up, shared a laugh with coach Wayne McGillicuddy, and went to grab dinner in a nearby establishment. The thing I found us both stressing was how happy we were that we both made the trip.

As if to prove our point the game was a joy and we did what we set out to do: call it as we always do, reporting it accurately and fairly.

We drove away feeling happy.

In the end, Williston Northampton barely knew we were there. That's also a big goal of mine.

We show up, we talk, we clean up, and we leave.

We'll see you probably in 2024.

Our next road game is in Cheshire. 

Just work with us and we can make it all work.

Everyone wins.

Bernie

 

(Photo: WABC Radio)

"Good morning and God bless!"

When the news hit that Bernard McGuirk had died at the age of 64, those were the first words that entered my brain.

Now, I realize we're in an era where it's frowned upon to express admiration for such a ribald person but I readily admit that Bernard McGuirk -- Bernie -- made me laugh to the point that I nearly drove off the road while commuting to work back in the 1990s.

Bernie was the executive producer and a chief foil on the "Imus in the Morning" radio program.

I will not hide from the fact that Bernie was also fired as a result of the Rutgers women's basketball commentary made on the show in April 2007. He was instrumental in that and paid a price.

But I think back to the 90s when the show's irreverent humor -- in which literally everyone was the target of barbs -- was good and as influential as anything I've ever listened to.

No, I'm not kidding. Everyone got thrown into the fire, including the "Imus in the Morning" crew. In fact, especially the "Imus in the Morning" crew. Bernie, always calling Don Imus "Chief," always spewed vitriol at his boss, especially in the guise of his most popular character.

The Cardinal. John Cardinal O'Connor.

The good Cardinal, wearing a FedEx envelope on his head, was ostensibly there to read the New York lottery numbers. Often, he would, but more importantly, he'd offer commentary on events on the day.

Every time he did it, the segment opened the same way: "Good morning and God Bless!" said in an Irish brogue.

It ended with the same thing: a multiple-choice quiz called "Which Doesn't Belong and Why?"

It was irreverent. It was fierce.

It. Was. Hysterical.

It also crossed lines that wouldn't get crossed today.

It was also brilliant satire.

But we've evolved and some of it can now induce cringing because I know the reactions wouldn't be kind.

Don Imus and Bernard McGuirk (Photo: Richard Drew, AP)

Look, I'm not here to try to defend Bernie, Charles McCord, Imus, or anyone else. I'll offer that it was a different time. We've moved forward. I'm certainly not the same as I was in 1993. Things have changed.

I listened to some of the audio online following the news of Bernie's passing. Most of it still makes me laugh out loud. A few things make me groan.

McGuirk eventually returned to radio when Imus came back on WABC in Dec 2007. By then the raucousness of the older days was mostly gone and, eventually, Bernie began to shuffle toward his post-Imus career. he began doing political commentary and hosting some talk shows on his own. Eventually, he began hosting "The Bernie & Sid" show with fellow "Imus" alum Sid Rosenberg.

You had to be on your game with Bernard McGuirk. I talked to him a few times off the air and he was as fast as anyone with a quip. That's what made him brilliant on the air.

He was charitable, helping Imus with the annual Radiothon as well as supporting the Imus Ranch for kids with cancer as well as SIDS. 

Tributes poured in from those who worked with Bernie or simply encountered him.

A guy from the South Bronx who once drove a cab before working on one of the biggest radio shows in the world is gone.

He would have been 65 in just a few days.

The Bald-Headed Stooge is gone.

Doing Good

 

The conference in New York City has come to a close. We'll be back in just under three weeks for our last conference of 2022.

By all accounts, it was a success and there is much rejoicing in the land.

Honestly, I heard a lot of positive feedback about the quality of the presenters and a few kind words about the moderator. I also heard a few good things about the moderator's voice.

I'll take it.

Obviously, getting up at 4 a.m. and walking to the Greenwich train station in total darkness at 5 a.m. isn't the most desirable thing in the world but it comes with the territory. We were in the Harvard Club by 6:30 and set up not long after.

Guests began coming in a little after 7 and the event officially began at 8:45.

I get tucked into a corner near the podium that keeps me close to the speakers so I can communicate with them about time and any other concerns. For the most part, it's a very smooth operation but, occasionally, I have to gently end the session so we can stay on schedule.

It happens and everyone adjusts. In fact, it often works out best that way because then attendees are inspired to network to get their questions answered.

With my job done by 12:30, I went to the champagne reception, spoke with attendees, got feedback, laughed, and eventually worked my way back to get a train home.

It's a strange feeling to have not been in a car once today but I'm not complaining. I walked to anything that I didn't take the train to.

I was back with just enough time to set up and host "Doubleheader" from home.

But, I had just a little bit of time before I left Grand Central Terminal.

And, if you know GCT, then you know.

Black.

White.

And so good.

Sean texted me to see if he'd mind me coming to the apartment tonight, which is slang for his other home wanting him to come to stay with me. Whatever the case, I'm glad to have him and happy he is here.

But ... I had to get him a black and white cookie. I mean, there's no rule but I wanted to do it for him. Oh, we've covered the topic here. There's nothing like a Zaro's black and white cookie.

So, I bought two -- hey, I like them also! -- grabbed a slice of pizza and made my way home. Since he wasn't here when I walked in the door, I just left the cookie in the Zaro's bag on his bed.

"Homer do good?" -- courtesy "The Simpsons Movie"

Years ago, when I felt like I had let him down for having a failed marriage, Sean was my biggest concern. I wanted him to know that he always had his dad and that I have his back. Around that same time -- he would have been six or seven -- he got into watching "The Simpsons Movie." I mean, he watched it on every road trip on his portable DVD player and I'd hear him giggle on every viewing.

One of the key aspects of the Simpsons has always been the dynamic between the hapless father and the wise-cracking son.

There's a short but humorous exchange in "The Simpsons Movie" after one of Homer's failures that sets the plot further in motion. It's always resonated with us.

Homer, depleted of energy and delirious, looks at Bart, his loving but weary son. Hoping Homer's effort in this case has been positive, he asks, "Homer do good?"

Bart is blunt as always.

"Actually, you doomed us all," he says.

"Homer do good?" has been an exchange between us for years, prized among our collection of lines that many likely wouldn't understand.

And so today, following the completion of "Doubleheader," Sean came into my bedroom to say hello and, of course, pet the cat.

He also walked in joyously devouring his black and white cookie.

I looked and grinned.

"Homer do good?" I asked.

"Yeah," he said, grinning. "You did."

Oh yeah. Homer -- dear old dad -- did just fine for this day. 

Hump Day Evening Rambling

 

With episodes of Schitt$ Creek on as I begin to write, this is what's on my mind:

Baseball's regular season came to an end today. The playoffs start on Friday but I'll miss the day-to-day grind of the year.

Still, the playoffs will be great, though the Yankees will be off for a few days. So I'll take the action of four other series. A delightful bounty of games start on Friday. Four games? Yes, please!

The end of the season gave reminders of how wonderful this game is. The waning days of the careers of Albert Pjuols, Yadier Molina, and Adam Wainwright gave Cardinals fans as well as fans around the world plenty to cheer about. Pujols in particular had a great finish, including surpassing 700 home runs.

They walked off the mound in unison a few days back, preparing to rest themselves for the playoffs.

Of course, I've rhapsodized about Aaron Judge and we've said more than enough.

But there are little things like Kurt Suzuki -- a catcher who was a 2014 all-star who had a respectable career -- got a chance to depart a game to an ovation and the love of his teammates.

Stephen Vogt -- a former Hudson Valley Renegade who became a two-time all-star catcher in Oakland -- was introduced by his kids before his final game today. Then, later on, he hit a home run. 

Baseball can be so romantic like that.

Around the sport, there are celebrations over personal achievements, like Jeff McNeil of the Mets, who won the National League batting title and was allowed to take a curtain call when that became final.

But the Mets have bigger goals.

So there is no baseball to watch tonight. Just preseason hockey and basketball.

Fortunately, I have to go to bed soon and get a good night of sleep before an early call in the morning.

I have to meet up with my Hunt Scanlon colleagues to head into New York City for another conference. 

I've said it before but it's worth repeating: I literally show up and talk. I marvel at what Chris, Scott, Mike, Erik, Walker, and the rest of the team do what they do. They organize and assemble the whole thing. They make it look easy.

I help put literature on the tables, speak the words I'm asked to speak and keep things on time. I'm not trying to minimize it. I do what I'm asked to do but I see myself as one small part of a team effort.

There are brilliant people who get up and present. They're the stars.

My colleagues are also stars.

I'm the moderator who aims to be on time and say something funny here and there.

I have to be at the Greenwich train station early tomorrow to head in.

It's the first time I'll walk to the train from the apartment.

Given today was a day of a new washer/dryer combo and a running toilet (it's fixed) and a still-running ceiling fan (it will get fixed), it will be great to go work at the conference.

It is a half-day event so it won't be as taxing. 

So I can (hopefully) be on "Doubleheader" later in the day to tell the stories of (hopefully) another job well done.

62

 

Aaron Judge #99 of the New York Yankees hits his 62nd home run of the season against the Texas Rangers during the first inning in game two of a double header at Globe Life Field on Tuesday in Arlington, Texas.

Ron Jenkins/Getty Images

I was in class at CSB when it happened.

I put the game on my phone.

Then? Boom.

Aaron James Judge became the single-season home run leader in American League history. He also surpassed the single-season Yankees record held by Roger Eugene Maris.

We learn those names. Oh, Roger will always be Raj or Rajah but he's also Roger Eugene.

Now, Aaron Judge is Aaron James.

Both cemented forever in Yankees lore.

I'm not here for the Barry Bonds/steroids/7th mother all-time junk. Don't ruin the joy tonight. I'm not here to stick my head in that pool. There will be a time for that. I'm also not here to say anything about Roger Maris, Jr who is doing what any child might do for their late parent: defend them.

Roger Jr. thinks his dad held the "clean" home run record and, until a little after 8 p.m. eastern time tonight, that might have been true.

Now, it's Aaron Judge.

Hate to be "that guy" but I predicted this years ago. The court of public opinion would have a say and many think Maris (and now Judge) are the owners of the "clean" record.

But no matter. I'm not going to let such things ruin tonight.

The funny thing is, given that I was teaching a class on sports broadcasting, it gave me a chance to review play-by-play in a big moment. The call on my phone was from Michael Kay. A few minutes later, I found a tweet with the call from John Sterling.

I played them both for my class. Then I waited.

One student -- Brian, the Jets fan -- shook his head.

"No," he said, talking about the Sterling call. "He's talking too much."

Spot.

On.

I got a text saying a similar thing to me. They know. They've paid attention.

At that moment, I didn't want to hear Michael Kay, John Sterling, Meredith Marakovits, me, or even Vin Scully's ghost.

I want crowd noise. I wanted to hear the reaction of the patrons at Globe Life warehouse in Texas. All of the pontificating of my fellow broadcasters could wait until after it was over.

Lay out. Let it happen.

I'm not criticizing here. I know John's style and I know Michael's style. That's what they've both done for years and they're legends. Fans appreciate them. I didn't think either call was "perfect" but that's me grading on the Scully Scale.

On TV, let the picture drive it. On the radio, let the crowd wash over.

For whatever you're thinking tonight, that's your opinion and it's great to have it.

For me, this was a moment of historic proportion -- all taken in stride -- that I wanted to appreciate. I was quietly grateful that I was able to be in front of a group of broadcasting/media students to explain and teach what I thought.

At the same time, I was euphoric to have seen the moment live. I acknowledged my gratitude to them for sharing it.

I don't expect to ever see this again but I'm glad I got to see it.

To be honest, I had texted Susan earlier in the day and told her I didn't think it was going to happen. I had begun to think that Judge and Maris would remain tied at 61 and maybe that would be just as sweet.

Thus I'm not good at predictions.

But now, thankfully, it is over. 

We may never know what this was really like for Judge but I gather it was nowhere near as horrific as it was for Maris. Patches of Roger's hair famously fell out from the pressure in 1961. He was not just battling the ghost of Babe Ruth -- dead 13 years that summer -- but the very living and more-popular Mickey Mantle.

Mickey Charles Mantle, thank you very much.

For Maris, the press -- the media -- was a constant hassle.

I don't think Judge had to deal with that as badly and, even if he did, his California cool never seemed to break during this season.

Roger Maris hit 61 in 61. He held that mark for three days over 61 years, having eclipsed the Babe in a 1-0 win over the Red Sox on Oct 1, 1961.

Tonight Aaron Judge his 62nd in a 3-2 loss to the Rangers. That puts a bit of a bummer on the evening.

We will long remember the evening regardless. We will tell kids and grandkids about it.

Clean record. Steroids. Whatever.

He has 62 home runs.

Sixty-two.

And his name is Aaron James Judge.

Break On Through

 

From "Family Guy" because why not?

I've hit another wall.

Not a big deal, we'll blast through it like the Kool-Aid Man and keep on going.

But, yeah. 

I mean, I write night after night and it just feels like interest has waned a bit, as it occasionally does.

The thing is that we have to write with our audience in mind but not necessarily for our audience.

So, as I've done from time to time, I call sort of a time out on myself, figuring the posts have gotten "meh" and my topics have hit a bit of a dead end.

Some, for instance, aren't into the sports post. Or the road posts. Or any of the posts.

Some posts just take more time to create and really craft and tonight just doesn't feel like I have that kind of time.

Don't consider this some post saying that our national streak of silliness is over. Not yet. I'm not sure how (or when) it will end but this isn't it.

I'm constantly thinking and conjuring up topics. But some of them just don't land for whatever reason.

Fear not. I know there is a loyal collection of people who read every post or almost every post. Believe me, I see the numbers and they stay almost the same every day.

*****

I talked with a recent college grad who is trying to make his way into sports. He's not sure if it's broadcasting or exactly where he wants to go next but he was interested in learning more about me.

Among his questions was how much longer I plan to keep doing what I'm doing, though he phrased it a bit differently.

There's no end game (just like this blog) as of now. It's kind of the "Vin Scully approach." Let's be honest, isn't most of what I do in sports broadcasting the "Vin Scully approach?"

The answer is "yes" and, in this case, that approach is that so long as I still feel joy and it's giving me the proper goose bumps, then I'm fairly content to find time in my life to call games, regardless of whatever else I'm doing in life.

The passion is still there. The energy is still there. The voice is still there. The desire to travel is still there (Massachusetts this Saturday). I still get excited when people reach out to discuss opportunities.

I could do without the headaches but, honestly, couldn't we all do without those kinds of things?

Regardless of the score, it's still my job to report the game to the audience and I still think that's pretty cool.

He's fine, thanks.

Otherwise, I'd just be sitting home with The Cat and what fun would that be? Seems like some think I'm a crazy old cat man anyway so I'd like to keep that impression at bay for a while longer.

Maybe that's not what people think of me but I do get asked "how's the cat?" a lot.

To be certain, he's fine and asleep maybe two feet away from my computer.

I was talking with someone today and they were talking about how tuned in dogs are to their humans. I countered that believe it or not, cats are also. They're just not as obvious about it and, yeah, they're more detached.

No doubt he plays a role in this and in my life because he's always nearby when I'm home (as a reminder, my place isn't very big) so it's easy to factor him into storytelling.

But I personally don't think I'm a crazy old cat man.

I'm crazy. Yes.

Supposedly, I'm also old, as both Chris Erway and Sean Adams tell me all the time.

I'd like to think that's where the story ends.

And, with that, we've busted through that wall.

Thanks, Kool-Aid Man.

Oh yeah!

Sports Sunday

 

I made a decision to not leave the house today.

Oh, I could have used a trip to the grocery store, but nah. I have enough food here for today.

Instead, I made it a day of watching sports.

I gave some serious consideration to going to Yankee Stadium to watch Aaron Judge go for 62 but I let the weather impact that consideration. Plus the ticket wasn't cheap so it felt like it wasn't the right call.

That's exactly how it played out. The weather didn't impact the game in that it was never postponed but Judge didn't hit 62 and it was just a raw, nasty day. Plus the Yankees lost.

All things considered, I was content to stay in my chair and watch it on TV.

But it was a good reminder that I could use a couch as I also got sleepy at one point. Instead, I have a sore neck from falling asleep in my chair. 

First-world problems.

The day began with more Rascal/shadow games. He charges behind my head while I'm trying to sleep in pursuit of whatever ghosts or goblins he thinks he sees.

Eventually, Sean took off for work, and we watched the Vikings and Saints from London. 

OK, I watched it. Rascal ran around the apartment before settling down in a cat bed next to me.

The thing is, I would have loved to run out for an egg and cheese sandwich but one thing about this area is that it's not easy to find such a thing, especially on a Sunday.

That's not to say there aren't places but there can be parking issues depending on where and how far do I want to drive to get an egg and cheese sandwich? There comes a point I might as well go back to Secor Road in Mahopac.

Of course, then again, I could get my stuff in order and get eggs, rolls, and hashbrown patties here and make my own*.

*Let's be honest, that's not even close to being the same. My egg and cheese sandwiches are fine (Sean always loved them) but they're embarrassing compared to a good deli creation.

So the bigger point of this is that I didn't go out.

Steelers quarterbacks Kenny Pickett (8) and Mitch Trubisky (10) warming up before facing the Jets in Pittsburgh on Oct. 2, 2022. (Photo: AP)

I watched Saints/Vikings come down to "double doink" 61-yard missed field goal.

I watched Jets/Steelers usher in the Kenny Pickett era by giving me highs and, ultimately, lows. Credit to the Jets and young QB Zach Wilson for a gritty win in Pittsburgh. Somewhere, my dad smiles.

I bounced to Orioles/Yankees and, yeah, nothing that great there.

I glanced at Bears/Giants. Glanced.

Then I took in Patriots/Packers come down to overtime before Aaron Rodgers beat Bil Belichick. 

Now, it's time for Chiefs/Buccaneers. 

Eventually, Sean came home from work and we made dinner. I told him about my day and he was happy for me. 

"Good," he said. "After the past couple of days, you needed to have a day like this."

I probably did but there's always a prevailing hint of guilt sitting inside of me. How dare I pop a pair of comfy pants on, pull a blanket on me (by the way, it's raw and chilly), and chill out?

Well, regardless, that's what I did.

The thing about being a play-by-play announcer (yes, I'm sure I've said this) is that it's a combination of mentally and physically taxing. There's walking and lugging equipment and standing for hours (depending on the booth) and stair climbing (have fun at places like Cardinal Stadium). There's also, generally, 2-3 hours (or more) of thinking and talking even when you've run out of things to say.

Of course, there's keeping the broadcast on the air, engaging your audience, social media, making sure everyone you're working with is OK, and miscellaneous items that can be exhausting. I haven't even alluded to internet issues and other technical issues and other items.

I'm not complaining but that's what I was trying to say in yesterday's post. A lot more goes into it than anyone knows.

I also haven't mentioned what it can do to my throat and voice. Fortunately, I'm fine today. In fact, Kevin Halpenny checked in on me to see how I was doing and I joked that I'm ready for another game.

Well, I am ready for one, but I didn't have to.

Still, I'm in talks to add something else to the fun so there could be some Friday-Sunday activity coming up. 

I'll keep you posted about that.

Time for Chiefs/Bucs and to keep an eye on Mets/Braves.

Three Game. Three Sites

 

So, you might know that I went to Middletown, NY last night.

Overall, I'd have to say it couldn't have gone better. Middletown won 29-14 in a fairly sloppy game with Monticello.

The people there were great and my partner Norris Gipson was as well. It was a long, exhausting night but I got home safe and sound.

Norris, calling only his fourth broadcast, asked me for advice as we walked out. I told him a few pointers -- right out of Mr. Scully, thank you very much -- and I think he could be very good at broadcasting.

I felt like I did my job and could be satisfied as I got ready for today.

In bed after midnight, I hit the ground running around 9 a.m. The first stop was breakfast. In Greenwich, there are many places that will create what is, effectively, called a Hotsy. That is an egg and cheese sandwich with a meat chili (dear God, NO BEANS), bacon, and potato cones.

And, yes, that's what I had to start the day.

With that for fuel, I proceeded to Brunswick, where I set up for the second broadcast. The booth was open and it was just me. I threw some equipment and place and departed.

Up next was a quick stop at WGCH where I picked up their remote equipment.

From there, it was onto Cardinal Stadium. My booth was unlocked and I set about getting ready for Greenwich and Westhill.

By 11:30, Chris Erway and I were in place and ready to go for the 1 p.m. kickoff between the Cardinals and Vikings.

Any FCIAC veteran knew how this game would play out. I called it last week. The Cardinals -- fresh off a 29-28 loss to Southington -- would execute to perfection against Westhill.

It wasn't close. The Cardinals scored a minute into the game and cruised to a 62-14 win.

Thanks to that, Chris and I were able to pack up and head to my car for the brief drive to Brunswick. I also had just enough time to stop and grab a bite to eat at Wick.

It was homecoming a Cosby Field and there would have been plenty of options to grab food but I'm not comfortable trying to ingratiate myself. So I wisely opted to buy a wrap before going to the field.

Brunswick and Salisbury have a little bit of a rivalry, especially in lacrosse. Still, rivalries don't always mean great games. The Bruins controlled the clock and scoreboard, playing a full game in a 49-6 win.

So, yeah, if you're keeping track, that's not a lot of ultra-competitive games.

It would be very easy to lament all of that. Yet I find myself proud of these three broadcasts. Each game had its little touches of humor as the outcomes were no longer a mystery.

Not everyone is going to appreciate my style -- or our style. Chris and I can be a comedy duo, mostly laughing at and making fun of ourselves. Blowouts can be quite difficult, especially in high school games, because the content that they produced is a nifty little dance.

These are student-athletes. They don't warrant the same criticism that higher levels do. Still, especially in the case of Greenwich/Westhill, who does that game serve? It's rarely been a competitive matchup. So, is there good that comes out of it?

Oh, it's hardly an issue to call a game like that. We just go about our business and call it as we see it. We're fair and honest without being harsh.

But we also might dip into a bag of tricks to keep the broadcast entertaining.

Still, there's reporting to do and that's our job. We found players and stories to praise and try to keep a positive spin on each game.

There was a lot to like.

Middletown getting their first win after an 0-4 start.

Greenwich rallying from last week behind big plays.

Brunswick executing outstanding plays and drives.

And, for what it's worth, the starting quarterback for Middletown was Sierra DiGiorgio. A softball player.

Who started at quarterback.

Nothing historic about that. Except that it was and she almost led the Middies to a score on the opening drive, slightly underthrowing what might have been a touchdown in the red zone. She only played briefly before their starting QB eventually led Middletown to the win.

Nonetheless, history was made. The first girl to start a game at quarterback in Section IX in New York.

Very cool.

As I sit home, following 12 quarters of football since last night, I find myself really proud of the effort of everyone. From the machine that is the Neversink Media Group out in Orange County to the little engine of WGCH and the "A-Team" duo of Adams and Erway. We called each play and we broke it all down as well trying to keep it lighthearted and fun.

We did our best and damn the critics, whoever they are.

We dealt with rosters that were handed out roughly an hour before game time and some that were completely inaccurate. We let it roll off of us and kept plunging forward.

It's going to feel weird having just one game next week but, of course, it's in Massachusetts. So Chris and I are trying to plot that out. 

Chaos and hijinks will follow I'm sure.