There is No Dark Side of the Moon

 

(Photo: Stephen Shankland/CNET)

You'll forgive me if I don't tweet 150 times over a 24 stretch about WrestleMania, won't you?

Good. Grief.

I don't want to spoil that party. I know many of my friends are into pro wrestling and have been for years. I remember friends 40 years ago being into it. 

They tried to drag me into it. Physically.

While I watched a few times and have just enough knowledge to discuss a little of it, I've never been into the WWE, etc scene.

I'm not here to mock it either. 

Nor am I here to knock the other phenomenon being discussed at the moment and that's the eclipse happening tomorrow.

Initially, I had a baseball game scheduled that would be starting towards the back end of the eclipse tomorrow but that game has been moved to Tuesday. So, no go there.

What a bummer. I was prepared to do play-by-play of what was going on!

Instead, I'll likely be here. I'm considering taking "Doubleheader" outside to watch things as they end. I've never done the show from my deck and I think I'll do that tomorrow. There will likely be background noise of I-95 and trains running by, but so what? 

We're meant to be outside tomorrow.

Of course, solar eclipse glasses would be nice.

After finishing up "Meet the Beatles" this morning, Sean and I took a walk up Greenwich Ave. to the Warby Parker store. We immediately found that they were out of free eclipse glasses so we soldiered on and eventually made our way back home.

That's how it goes, I guess.

I'd heard that the library had some but the last I heard they were out also. 

But that doesn't take away from this for me. There are ways to survive without FOMO. We won't miss out.

We also won't damage our eyes.

Later in the day, I settled in to watch the Iowa/South Carolina basketball game. I readily admit I've become a Caitlin Clark fan and wanted to see the sensational Hawkeye finish her career with a ring. Still, it's hard to knock the phenomenal team that is South Carolina. Dawn Staley's team had the size and a deep bench to survive any early offensive explosion by Clark.

In the end, despite a talented Iowa team, it just wasn't enough and South Carolina finished a perfect season.

The greater point remains we're talking about women's college basketball. 

And, in my mind, this wasn't an "oh yeah, that game is on moment." This was appointment TV.

Back to "Meet the Beatles" for a moment. There were too many technical hiccups because our studio really isn't the best for playing music. So it's on me to adjust and get better at it, all while providing the best content. I did a covers show today and I nearly played everything I had on my list but there were a few moments when things didn't come across. 

It was operator error and I'll keep getting better from it.

Not that it's any excuse, but I dragged myself into the studio this morning after calling two games on Saturday. The day began with lacrosse at Brunswick on the soccer field as the Bruins once again displayed the potential for a truly special season. Their opponent -- Loomis Chaffee -- is another top team. The Bruins took the game 13-6.

Then I went up to Poughkeepsie for the Hudson Valley Vipers contest. I was thrilled to have Dan Murphy on the call with me. Dan texted me earlier in the day to see if I wanted company, and I was glad to have his steady demeanor and good sense of humor on the headset. We blended together easily so it made for a smooth broadcast. Pretty amazing since last night was only his second broadcast.

But, well, it was a night. The final score was 13-9. There were too many penalties to count. Three players were ultimately ejected. 

And the broadcast got silly at times -- which I noted on the air -- speaking to what kind of night it was.

All along, going back to lacrosse, I had a headache and a muscle ache in the back of my neck, likely the result of craning to look at something. That persisted through the drive to and from hockey and the broadcast itself.

Plus I was hungry. Thankfully, Saturday's post was written hours earlier so I didn't need to sit in the McDonald's parking lot following the three-hour hockey broadcast.

But rolling down the Taconic State Parkway, I pondered a later dinner. I knew we needed milk and I supposed I could pick up some milk at a convenience store. At worst, I could have cereal. 

Then, inspiration struck! Rocky's Deli in Millwood, is a minute off the TSP. They're always open. In fact, when I left Mahopac at 4 a.m. to head to Hunt Scanlon for our flight to London in 2022, I went to Rocky's to grab a ham, egg, and cheese on a hard roll and coffee.

At 11:30 on Saturday night, I had the same idea minus the coffee. An egg and cheese sounded really good.

And yet....yet? I had a sinking feeling.

I was right. There was a line out the door. No thanks. I went to a nearby store, grabbed milk, and went home.

I had a bowl of cereal and collapsed. Even the cat couldn't disturb me.

And so, friends, we head into tomorrow, post-Wrestlemania. Post-Yankees take two of three from the Blue Jays. Post-South Carolina/Iowa.

Straight into eclipse mania.

Despite postponed games, and whatever schools are doing, it will all be over by dinner time.

And, if you buy into what the conspiracy theorists are selling, who knows what else will happen?

Then again, if you buy into that you're probably reading the wrong blog.

See you tomorrow.

I hope.

Severe Snark Warning In Effect

 

This would not be ideal today

Our wacky weather, combined with a long day ahead, gave me pause to sit at the keyboard this morning.

Heavy rain. Earthquake. Aftershock. Eclipse. It's mass hysteria!

So here I am, your (hopefully) favorite "VERY upset" talk show/podcast host, preparing my little heart out for today, per the provisions set forth in the Preparation Accord of 1964*.

* Patent Pending, of course 

First, for your late lunch/early dinner pleasure, we head to Carroll Varsity Soccer Field for lacrosse. Yes, that's correct. Due to Cosby Field being unplayable at the moment thanks to the weather, today's Brunswick lacrosse game against Loomis Chaffee has been moved to the soccer field across King St. I've worked from there several times and it's an outstanding facility, even if it lacks the amenities of Cosby Field.

As such, there is no press box or large grandstands. But it will absolutely suffice and we will broadcast it in all its glory. I'll head over in a bit to see exactly where we're setting up. I have a suspicion but I'm not 100% sure yet.

But we'll be there and it will be spectacular. Oh, nothing to do with me but everything to do with two top-10 teams. Excellence will be seen.

The game will begin at 2 p.m. and will wrap up around 4. You can watch it on LocalLive. That will give me more than enough time to jump on 684, grab food somewhere, and head to Poughkeepsie for tonight's Boston Gold Kings/Hudson Valley Vipers hockey tilt. I've done what I can to cover the Vipers in their first year and it looks like I'll wind up calling nine of their home games in the first season.

The Vipers game begins at 7 p.m. and I'll likely be live around 6:55 on Robcasting.

The idea was to help get them off the ground from a coverage standpoint with the hope of expanding somehow next year. We both know that and will hopefully talk about it after the season.

I'm hoping in the midst of all this to avoid hurricanes, typhoons, blizzards, sinkholes, locusts, pythons, and stink bugs. 

And, since there's a chance of showers, to hopefully stay dry. A fellow broadcaster noted working outside and his concern over the equipment. I assured him it's duly noted and, believe me, it's always a concern to me, whether the equipment is mine or not. I'll have the umbrella and rain gear with me. Honestly, that's all I can do.

So, let's have a day, shall we? Let's be positive and have fun!

Oh, was there a basketball game last night? Yes, in fact, there were two. South Carolina dispensed with NC State in the first one while Iowa survived UConn.

First, a note about the broadcast. I had it muted until the very end. That's the only way to survive it. But I felt I was duty-bound to hear how it ended.

Oof. That was a bad decision. In an incredibly crucial moment, the broadcast team of the Fordham Flash (no, not Frankie Frisch -- look him up) and the UConnLegend neglected to give us any details of the offensive foul at the end of the game.

Bad. Bad Bad. Did I say "bad?"

Were they too busy coming up with the next location Caitlin Clark would sink a three-pointer from? (Note: it's not new or unique. Kickoffs and run backs and home runs have ended miles away since at least 1999)

The offensive foul call was one that I was surprised about in that spot. I asked someone I trusted about the call and the person I talked to said the call could have been let go. But that's sports. Most people saw it with their hearts. 

A few things to keep in mind: UConn also had a double-digit lead and did they let Iowa get back in the game? You Bet!

Did Clark -- who couldn't find a shot in the first half -- heat up? You bet! She began hitting shots from Sandusky and Findlay (where Ben Roethlisberger played in high school).

Did UConn fail to box out after Clark missed her free throw? Bingo.

Bad calls happen. I've seen them. I've been a part of them. They've hurt and helped every team I've ever been involved with.

But the game didn't end thanks to that call. It was a call I wish they didn't make in that spot.

But they did.

Paige Bueckers, Caitlin Clark, and both teams deserved to finish things on the floor. Both coaches -- especially Geno Auriemma -- were incredible.

That's what I'd rather be talking about today.

But, here's the thing. We're talking about college basketball today. Women's college basketball.

And that's a great thing.

Game over.

Snark Warnings mean that an abundance of sarcasm and humor will be mixed in with scathing commentary about events. Readers are advised to prepare to laugh or check their lack of a sense of humor. Preparation is subjective but it is advised that learning to laugh is wise.

A Shaky Friday

 

(NBC Boston)

There was an earthquake this morning.

Aaron Judge, Yankees superstar, was asked where he was when it hit. 

"I don't want to say," he said with a laugh.

I hear ya, big fella. Same here.

But hit it did. A 4.8 rumble around these parts can be, pardon the pun, jarring. Nothing fell or was damaged to my knowledge. I walked around the house and it is fine. The cat seemed a little unnerved. Sean and I both laughed at it.

A bottle in the overflowing recycling biz tumbled out. 

Then we went about our day with a story to tell. Eventually, I came home and did my talk show/podcast from Connecticut.

You know, "Doubleheader," the show I do on WGCH RADIO at 4 p.m. It also airs on Robcasting as well as Facebook. In the case of Facebook, it airs without commercials and other elements to avoid copyright concerns. Some think it's a "podcast" or whatever but, rest assured, it's a radio show.

People watch. They listen. That includes those who don't want me to know they're watching and listening.

Then, they collect things I say and "tell on me" to others.

It's funny. Today, for instance, I specifically noted that what I say and do on the show shouldn't be taken that seriously. Most of it is in good fun though I know we have gotten rather selective about humor.

My talk show style is based on Mike and Mad Dog and Don Imus and other radio personalities who had fun and made fun of things without worry. It's meant to be irreverent though I'm not a shock jock, I enjoy having fun. That's the idea. 

Oh, I can get quite serious, as I did when ripping Major League Baseball at the end of the show.

But I wasn't "very upset" as was noted in the vague tweet online. In fact, I had to think about what I said when I saw the tweet. Thus it wasn't very memorable.

This is a continued approach dating back to a GIF I posted last fall, which was met with a fierce rebuke about what a horribly negative person I am. I chose to not respond to it then, though I've said a few things about it since. Still, I have not responded. That person chose to systematically remove all correspondence -- positive and otherwise -- between us. Within minutes of the GIF and his telling me off, I was blocked from any further discussion.

Truth: I'm not a horribly negative person. I'm honest and don't tolerate phonies. But I'm actually a fairly positive person who is also a huge cheerleader.

The shame of it is, I completely own that this person had given me a few great opportunities in the past and I had some good conversations with him. We even worked together a few times. What he doesn't know is that I was a defender of his for some time, exactly because he was good to me. I made that known to his critics, to be quite blunt.

Beyond that, I'll keep it there. If he wants to talk further, I'm here.

He's not the only person for what it's worth. There's also the one I didn't pay enough attention to. I don't have time for that or the people who enable the behavior.

Right around the time the latest ruckus was being relayed to me, we had a 4.0 aftershock hit us. This time, I can assure you I was sitting on my couch, laughing at the insanity of it all.

I'm going to keep my mouth shut. All opinions are valid. We're allowed to disagree. I'll focus on lacrosse tomorrow. I'll watch college basketball. I should be able to avoid trouble that way.

Anyway, much ado about nothing. Silliness abounds.

(P.S., I'm not going to change)

A Pole (almost) Falls in Greenwich

 

All seemed quiet around the Presidential Suite* this morning.

* You know, father and son with the last name Adams? 

Then I heard a noise. Let's call it a crunch.

Crunches happen frequently outside our place for a variety of reasons so they're normally nothing to worry about.

Except this one had a visual element. The telephone/power pole outside the front window moved.

I'm not sure I need to explain this but it shouldn't do that.

For a moment, I wondered where the pole would land and what the impact would be. I watched with caution thinking there might be sparks. 

I yelled to Sean and we observed the situation.

The pole rested on top of the truck, which was an Enterprise rental box truck.

The driver got out and also observed.

According to what I was later told, he called the police. The jig was up. 

Sean and I knew that action was necessary before we lost power. We each pulled ourselves together and shifted into a standby mode, prepared to leave the apartment if needed.

By the time I stepped back towards the window maybe 10 minutes later, Sean told me the driver of the truck was being handcuffed. Indeed, I stood and watched as he was loaded into a cruiser. I'd later watch police talk further with him on the street.

According to people I talked with later, the truck was stolen. So, yeah.

Eventually, I walked to my car to make sure everything was OK with it (and it was). Otherwise, we were fine to go about our business. In fact, our road was never closed, except to trucks, as I watched a truck get tangled in the overhead wires at one point.

Sean and I were actually able to leave for lunch and come back.

Working quickly, a crew showed up in the afternoon with two trucks to pull the pole off the Enterprise truck. After moving that truck, they got to work on standing the pole back up and stabilizing it. 

Sometime after four -- a little over five hours after the truck hit it -- everything was cleaned up.

Pretty amazing.

Electrifying, I'd say.

*****

I had the great thrill of calling tonight's Brunswick/Darien lacrosse game. The game had been shifted between sites, times, and broadcasting outlets thanks to the weather impacting Brunswick's Cosby Field. Ultimately, the game was moved to Darien High School and would be broadcast on DAF Media.

And yes, they wanted the old dude (hi) to call it, with my friend Dan Arestia. Ryan Dahlquist, a Darien High student, rounded out the on-air team.

I have to tell you ... ready? ... I'm pretty proud of the broadcast tonight. It looked great and everyone said it sounded great. 

The game wasn't a classic. Brunswick built up a 4-0 lead and never trailed. They won 12-6.

It was a pleasure to work with the DAF Media team, led by Bruce Ferguson tonight, though Damian Andrew is normally at the front of it all.

It also had that feeling of the days of the HAN Network when we were a machine. While we weren't all student-run, we were largely a collection of people who didn't know much about broadcasting, especially at first. There were only a few of us that had any broadcasting experience.

There's still a book in all of that somewhere.

But, for tonight, it was a blast and I'd do it again.

"Canceled"

 

We have a perfect storm today.

Actually, yes, it's storming quite a bit, but the storm in question is, in part, metaphorical.

I was supposed to call Brunswick's game today against Putnam Science Academy but it's pouring and very windy here in the 203.

I checked the Brunswick website a few hours ago to confirm what I knew and, instead of seeing that the game had been postponed (and thus would be made up), the word was more definitive.

Canceled.

That likely means the two teams couldn't find another window to play the game, so that's that. The players lose a game.

Selfishly, so do I.

It's not what you want.

OK, obviously we can look at this on the bright side and say that I'm not standing outside battling the conditions and trying to keep the equipment dry.

Keep in mind -- and this is not a complaint -- that the audio equipment and computer are all mine. The camera is LocalLive's (and, by extension, Brunswick's).

So, yeah, there's a concern for keeping that all safe and working.

But it's also generally sort of miserable to battle the elements without cover while keeping a paper scorecard. Try keeping things covered, making sure it's all working, keeping the scorecard dry, and still call the game. It's a juggling act. Then again, it's better than not doing the game at all.

Regardless, this one isn't happening.

Obviously, I have weather stories galore when it comes to all sports. Snow, thunder and lightning, hail, hurricane threats, flooding, locusts, etc. Among baseball games, I recall the time Joe Early got a tent to put over us for a Brunswick game several years ago. OK, cool. 

Except the tent had a hole in it. Now, we knew the tent wasn't perfect but we thought we could mitigate the damage.

We did, to an extent. You know, you push the tent up to watch the water fall off the roof. But, ultimately, the puddling, er, ponding on top of the tent and the dripping coming inside was a bit much.

Still, I look back and laugh. We tried. And, for what it's worth, while I like the tent idea, try setting and breaking down a 10x10 tent alone. It's not easy. That's why I bought pods a few years ago. Those have been good but they're not very roomy.

So, with that, I'm home, watching the rain pour and listening to the wind howl. Thus, I'm writing early, just in case power and/or the internet go out.

And I have the Yankees on.

If only I had a radio show to do. I don't. "Doubleheader" gets the day off in favor of a Red Sox game. My only gripe there is I'd like a say as "sports director" but what do I know?

I'll not air my grievances, especially following a good conversation with my WGCH friends today. Lots to discuss there also.

Oh, and Cooperstown is getting closer to being a reality. The game between Stamford and McMahon is Monday, Apr 15 at 10 a.m. You will definitely be able to hear it on Robcasting. I'll add more details as we get closer.

And there's lacrosse tomorrow. Stay tuned. 

Taxman

 

Let me tell you how it will be

There's one for you, nineteen for me.

'Cause I'm the Taxman. Yeah, I'm the Taxman.

-- "Taxman," The Beatles (written by George Harrison), 1966

I did my taxes today, oh boy.

I'll say that I'm thankful they didn't take it all.

I mean, it's tough to be almost an exclusive freelance/contract worker to begin with (to go along with the nifty little underpayment penalty the IRS decided to add for fun).

I expected it to be ugly though I admit I didn't expect it to be this bad. In fact, sadly, I made less in 2023 but am paying more.

Yet, I plugged in more W2 and 1099 forms than should be possible.

At first, I'll tell you I sat in my office, staring at my computer with a look that was likely a combination of sickness and bemusement. 

Then, somehow, I did something that was quite wise.

I walked away.

I began focusing on preparing for this week's "Meet the Beatles." I also prepared for tomorrow's baseball game. Though it might not happen, one has to go through the motions. I also got ready for "Doubleheader."

Soon, my heart rate began to return to normal and I stopped staring straight ahead as if I was already deceased.

Oh, the issue isn't going away but as you know, we have until April 15 to do the deed. Honestly, I don't feel any great rush to pay them but at the same time, I don't feel like I'm a rebel by not paying them.

They'll get paid. I might go back into them and see if I can find any other breaks, given the obnoxious price I'll be also paying to get them done.

Oh, and I tried another service to see if that would get any better. Let me tell you that it instead was definitively worse.

This is what it is. I accept that it would be bad. The sad part is I find myself wondering about needing more work and cutting costs. Plus, you know, non-freelance work. And benefits.

Basic life needs and all.

Politics aren't what I'm here for.

(Ah ah Mister Biden)

I know I don't want to pay some more.

(Ah ah Mister Trump)

* Apologies to George Harrison. Not my best work.

OK, I'll Call the Game

Own it.

 

Let's get this out of the way: it was my mistake.

I own it.

You know me and my schedule. I'm on top of this stuff. It's part of what I do. I'm diligent about putting everything on my spreadsheet and calendar.

So I knew, for instance, that I had to teach at CSB this morning.

A new class awaited. Most of the time we do radio before TV but it was flip-flopped today so it was a bit different and in that case, there's also someone to teach with me, mostly because he knows how to run the TV equipment better than I do, thus freeing me to critique the student's delivery of the sports news.

But it also has an impact on the class versus when I'm on my own. So it goes.

And students have questions. And different abilities.

So the plan was to head to the Hudson Valley after teaching to attend orientation for the 2024 Renegades season. 

After leaving CSB, I thought about driving towards the Hudson Valley and doing "Doubleheader" from my car.

Ultimately, I decided to head home, do the show, and hit the road as soon as it was over.

But, I glanced at Instagram and saw a story from Brunswick Baseball, promoting a game at 4:30 p.m. today.

Wait. What? 

I spent Saturday's broadcast promoting a game against Hamden Hall on Tuesday at 4:30.

I texted Wayne McGillicuddy. Was tomorrow's game moved because of impending rain?

Nope. 

So, yes, back to the beginning. I screwed up.

As such, I had to adjust my day. The drive to Wappingers Falls wouldn't happen. Sean would go to orientation and he could catch me up on any concerns. I emailed the team to tell them I couldn't make it.

I went home and got ready to call baseball.

But -- gasp! -- I didn't have hours to make charts and graphs and find my colored pens! Doesn't that mean I can't do the game?

Ha. Please.

My greater concern was ensuring I was prepared with proper layers for the weather. There was expectation of rain so I wanted to keep the equipment dry and myself warm.

I pulled everything together, got in the car, and headed to Brunswick. I grabbed the LocalLive camera and tripod and trudged to the right field corner.

I set the camera up, set my audio up, plugged it all in, and then set up my scorecard, pulling both lineups and rosters.

I was ready with time to spare.

And it was a better broadcast than Saturday's.

I felt the rhythm. I felt the flow. I felt the cadence. I liked the stories I was telling. I felt like my details were better than they had been.

Everyone prepares in their own way. I was hyper-prepared not just for the game details but for whatever the weather presented.

It got cold enough that I used all of the layers that I brought but never needed any of the stuff to keep things dry. We didn't see a drop of rain.

The thing about being prepared is trusting yourself. I have the notes. Even without a complete roster, I have my scoresheet from Saturday and that matters.

From there, trust the ability to tell the story of the game.

And tell the story of the game.

Saturday's broadcast just didn't feel right. It felt rusty but I was also tired. It's always hard to say exactly what it was.

Today felt right.

Even if I had to hustle to make it.

Because it was my mistake.

Easter 2024

 

(Photo: AP)

Happy Easter to those who celebrate.

Ultimately, things didn't quite work out as expected for me but it's fine.

Sadly, holidays just don't hold a lot for me for a bunch of reasons.

So, in taking stock of the day, I note the 4-0 start that the Yankees are off to. Winning, it has been said, is better than losing. It's hard to argue with that logic. 

Sweeping the Houston Astros -- no introduction necessary -- is certainly sweet.

But, without splashing cold water on this, allow me to at least be realistic.

It's four games -- four -- in March.

Can we hold the celebration until it really counts? 

Context matters a lot to me. Four games in March are wonderful but there are 158 to play still. Obviously, the games will mean more as the season goes along but a four game sweep in October would be best.

You know, like the Astros did to the Yankees in the 2022 ALCS.

But, weeding through everything, it's great to see this team showing heart. One of the hallmarks of the championship teams was their ability to never give up when down. Just consider the teams of the 90s and 2000s. I mean, think about the 2001 World Series alone, when they tied games on consecutive nights with dramatic home runs from Tino Martinez and Scott Brosius.

This team found themselves down or tied in each game and used a late rally to get the win. They also had two-out hits, such as today's clutch single from Juan Soto in the ninth inning.

Oh, I know it's just four games, but these are signs that are greatly appreciated. Pitching has been decent and the offense has threatened more than they did last year.

Still, health is a concern. Gerrit Cole is injured and so is DJ LeMahieu. 

But this is a fanbase who is hungry for a World Series, having last been to one in 2009.

I know, fans are spoiled. Mets fans have no pity for Yankees fans, nor should they.

But in Yankees Universe, 2009 to 2024 is a long time, up there with 1903 to 1921, 1964 to 1976, and 1978 to 1995.

Across town, there's a different emotion in play. The Mets lost all three games to the Brewers this weekend and looked lifeless at times, though they rallied before losing 7-6.

They also had a few skirmishes with Milwaukee, the result of a slide that second basemen Jeff McNeil found disagreeable.

I thought the slide was fine for what it's worth (not much).

The Mets will figure things out but they seem to understand it might be a long year.

As always, it will be an interesting summer around New York baseball and we're just getting started.

As for Shohei Ohtani, I still have questions and am very suspicious.

*****

Larry Desantis (ABC News)

I've continued to watch the news about the collapse of the Francis Scott Key Bridge near Baltimore and have been amused (to keep me from getting annoyed) by the amount of conjecture. Conspiracy theories and overreactions have abounded.

Everyone is an expert. Except me.

That aside, I've been expecting the human interest side of the story to emerge and I saw a brilliant one today. One topic I wondered about was drivers on the bridge before it collapsed.

Wonder no more. Abby Zimmardi and Jessica Gallagher of The Baltimore Banner wrote the story of Larry Desantis, who used the bridge to commute between two jobs. He finished crossing at 1:27 a.m.

The Francis Scott Key Bridge collapsed roughly a minute later.

Zimmardi and Gallagher showed the best of local journalism, developing the idea and doing diligent research before writing a compelling story.

It's the very thing that I used to watch Susan and my friends at HAN do. Heck, I tried to do it myself.

Local journalism -- good local journalists -- still matter and still exist. They're the ones who still have some integrity. 

Zimmardi and Gallagher told us all about Mr. Desantis, who will forever live with the knowledge of his drive between his two jobs.

The story -- read it here -- is wonderful.

My Happiest Place

 

My view from right field

Despite the sunshine, today was a fairly chilly day with the temperature hovering in the mid-50s.

But baseball was being played and I was on the air.

Win. Win.

It was my first baseball broadcast since the "rogue" call of the Babe Ruth World Series in Fredericksburg, VA last August. 

It wasn't perfect. Oh, it never is.

I was just happy to be back to the very thing that I love to do.

Fellow broadcasters grumble when they see our setup at Brunswick.

"Why are you calling the game from beyond the right field fence (harrumph!)?" they ask.

If you know the setup of the field, it sort of makes sense, like it or not. We need power for the camera, and there's an outlet on the scoreboard. It also helps me power my computer for my mixer and the Robcasting feed.

Doing it near home plate tightens things up, including my standing in the visitor's on-deck circle and just outside their dugout. We've done it but it also means the camera is shooting through the backstop.

Again, it's not ideal.

We dare to dream about a press box one day and a permanently installed camera but for now it is what it is.

No, the view isn't perfect from right field. It's hard to pick up a variety of things but, as I said to Brunswick's athletic director, a competent announcer is needed to fill in the gaps.

"I hope you guys find one," I said, and we laughed.

But, oh, baseball. The announcer's game. More to the point, the storyteller's game.

I can beat the proverbial dead horse to explain why the sport is so great but I'm not going to convince people (you know, the haters). Even in a game that ended 10-2 (Brunswick won) with 17 walks, two wild pitches, three hit batters, and eight strikeouts, lasting two-and-a-half hours, it was still mostly blissful.

Oh, and there was nearly a decapitated broadcaster. OK, that's extreme, but hear me out.

Remember, I said we were beyond the right field fence.

Loomis Chaffee's first baseman Gabriel Tirado launched a high fly ball to right.

Now, in the several years I've stood out there and called games, I've always been aware of the possibility of a ball getting to me. Obviously, my concern would be that the ball doesn't hit me, the camera, or my equipment.

And now I'm watching this skyscraper heading toward me.

Brunswick right fielder Reed Hyde drifted back to the fence, knowing he would likely run out of room. As the fence is movable, he'd possibly bump into me, the camera, or my equipment.

I continued to call the action. I watched the ball. I glanced at Hyde.

The ball went over my head and hit the scoreboard. A moment later, the ball rebounded to me and clipped off the back of my calf before rolling under the fence where Hyde picked it up.

Tirado also hit a second one later on and I thought for sure it was gone. It was foul. Oops.

A couple of Bruins players came out and got the equipment from me after the game and we laughed about the foul ball. You can laugh when you win. You can also laugh when the ball goes foul, especially since one of the players was the pitcher who gave it up.

The Bruins are 3-0 and I'll see them again this week.

And whatever was wrong with my call doesn't worry me. It's the first game. 

Baseball is back.

And it was also the 27th anniversary of the first time I walked into WGCH. What started as me being a rarely-used fill-in board operator turned into me being the board op of choice and co-hosting shows that I probably didn't belong on and doing anything the station asked me to do before beginning to work on football broadcasts and, yes, getting my chance to do play-by-play.

Now, I'll do play-by-play for basically anyone who asks. 

This game wasn't on WGCH. I've moaned about that enough times to fall on deaf ears.

Out of that came things like LocalLive and, yeah, Robcasting.

That's where I called baseball today and it made me happy.

A Picture Doesn't Tell Everything

 

Look at that guy.

He's smiling broadly in the middle of a field. Looks like a happy dude.

He's actually a wreck. He's lost.

As the picture says it was taken 16 years ago, placing it in March 2008.

It was Easter, to be exact.

I was dealing with the reality that I was going to be a divorced father and I was scared.

I've not told all of the stories -- the what and why and so on. To be honest, I don't know that they matter anymore. Plus I've always been protective of Sean as well as respective of my ex-wife's family.

The simple reality was that we weren't compatible. There was no point in staying together, even if it was just for Sean.

But that's part of what scared me. I loved being a father. I still do. I was terrified of losing him and what the divorce, along with the accompanying selfishness, etc, would do to him.

That continues to this day, by the way, but that's Sean's story to tell. 

Obviously, I've never lost him. If anything, we became closer.

But that weekend, we traveled to Bucks County, PA because my niece asked me if we wanted to go. Easter has never been a big holiday for me but I thought spending it like this would be good for us.

Still trying to have a hint of being a family, I asked Sean's mother if she was interested and she declined.

So I was dad for sure. I knew how to take care of my child but I felt like I was in the bullseye now.

We drove to Stephanie's house, leaving my car there to travel to Pennsylvania, where her sister Laura lived at the time.

Sean and I were both uptight to the point that he had stomach issues as we got ready to leave. Respectfully, I called his mother to get her input and her take was basically that he was fine.

After that, I needed to take the reins, no matter how much respect I tried to show, including having him reach out to his mother that evening to say goodnight.

A happy Sean in his car seat. My goal was to keep him happy.

The trip -- a Saturday overnight to Sunday -- was smooth and enjoyable. We went to a zoo in Norristown, had dinner, let the kids search for eggs on Sunday morning, and just hung out.

We also went to a nearby park on Sunday, where the kids (and the dads) climbed on the slides and swings.

As the kids were playing, I paused for a moment and collected myself. It was a cold but sunny morning.

That's when I took the picture.

It wouldn't be unfair to call the picture "What the F***?" because I suppose that's what I was feeling.

I can't stress enough that I was, ultimately, fine with the divorce. Oh, believe me, very fine. Especially with things I learned later on. But the road would be long and rather hellacious at times. 

The picture was a testament to my ability to smile through anything and survive. It was an attempt to document where I was and remind myself that I would be OK.

That's always what I needed to know.

I truly enjoyed that weekend. I was able to breathe. I also fell for Bucks County.

Sixteen years later, despite whatever the world has thrown at me, here I am.

Let the haters hate.

Have at it.

I'm still standing.

And smiling.

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Happy Opening Day 2024

 

(Photo: Bob DeChiara, USA TODAY Sports)

I'm reaching into the Wayback Machine for this one. I've rerun this post from time to time and have been told this it was pretty good.

I remember being in a bit of an emotional state when I wrote it and I poured every ounce I had into it.

Baseball was my first love. I love all sports now but there was a time when I didn't know any better. It was baseball for me and nothing else.

It still ignites me even if the joy can be lessened by the surrounding noise.

First pitch is later today. With that, I present the post titled "Baseball" written on April 5, 2015.

*****

 From left: Lou Gehrig, Joe Cronin, Bill Dickey, Joe DiMaggio,
Charlie Gehringer, Jimmie Foxx, and Hank Greenberg. 

Check out that picture above. Look at them: Gehirg, Cronin, Dickey, DiMaggio, Gehringer, Foxx, Greenberg. Even non-baseball/sports fans know at least two of those names (Gehrig and Joe D., of course).

It was taken at the 1937 All-Star Game at Griffith Stadium in Washington. Look at that glorious NBC sign in the background. Incidentally, three radio networks broadcast that game (NBC, CBS, and Mutual).

You might not know that every one of those players is enshrined in the Baseball Hall of Fame. Yet they are. Those guys aren't scrubs. They're among the best to ever play the game of baseball. Naturally, I've written tons about The Iron Horse, and a few words about DiMaggio as well. Bill Dickey, by the way, is vastly overlooked.

For you non-fans, Jimmie Foxx was the loose model for Tom Hanks in A League of Their Own.

You probably know this, if you've read anything here, but I love this great game. My god, we've screwed it up incredibly over the years. The race issues were deplorable. The sport struggled with growth and competition from the NFL through the 70s (and it continues today). We've added playoff teams and dealt with drugs (steroids, greenies, cocaine, etc. Go on. Look it up.). We're worried about pace of play and bringing the inner city back.

We had Black Sox and a gambling Red (just put him in the Hall of Fame, please?).

We have the Babe. The one and only. The single greatest, most important athlete in the history of sports. Yes, I know, Jim Thorpe, Bo Jackson, and others might have been better true athletes, but given everything involved, there's Babe Ruth and everyone else.

We've sold our souls too many times. Baseball shouldn't open at night, but ESPN's money is too much to overlook.

Yet tomorrow, in the day, with the stands full and the records 0-0, the lines will be painted fresh. The grass will be gloriously green. I wish a band would play, and we could recreate some of the openings of seasons past, but a voice will intone the starting lineups, and they will gather on those freshly-painted baselines. The anthem will be sung. A ceremonial first pitch will be thrown. There might be a flyover or some other special effect.

Then, as there has been since 1869 (the generally agreed upon "first year" of Major League Baseball), a batter will step up to home plate. A pitcher - 60 feet, six inches away - will author a first pitch.

And there will be baseball. To me, for its history, grandeur, strategy - everything - it is the greatest game of them all.

Football is the national passion. Baseball is the National Pastime.

Give me 714. Give me .406. Sixty-one. Fifty-six. I wish we could have 1918 back, but time marches on. A fan knows what these numbers are.

Give me the billy goat. The Bambino. Curses real or imagined.

Give me those uniform numbers that we all know: four. Three. Seven. Five. Forty-two.

Give me The Mick. Jeet. Gabby. Dizzy. Daffy. Dazzy. Pudge. Yaz. Three-Finger. Blue Moon. Vida. Catfish. Bucky. Stan the Man.

Give me Willie, Mickey, and The Duke. Tinker to Evers to Chance.

Give me The Called Shot. The Homer in The Gloamin'. The Shot Heard Round the World. The Miracle of Coogan's Bluff. Those last two are the same thing.

Give me Ebbets Field. Forbes Field. Crosley Field. Now give me Camden Yards and Fenway and Wrigley. The Big A. Chavez Ravine.

Give me the corner of E. 161st Street and River Ave. The most famous address in sports history.

Give me the Royal Rooters and the Bleacher Creatures.

Give me 27 rings.

Give me those great quotes, from music to movies to TV and beyond.

Take Me Out to the Ball Game. "Luckiest Man."

“That's baseball, and it's my game. Y' know, you take your worries to the game, and you leave 'em there. You yell like crazy for your guys. It's good for your lungs, gives you a lift, and nobody calls the cops. Pretty girls, lots of 'em.”
―Humphrey Bogart

Give me Vincent Edward Scully. The man known as Vin. The man who learned at the side of Walter Lanier Barber, the Old Redhead himself sitting in the catbird seat, while the bases were FOB (full of Brooklyn).

Give me a Ballantine Blast. Tell me "It's Miller Time" or "This Bud's for you."

Give me Cooperstown (maybe in a little over a week from now).

I love this game. It energizes me. Engulfs me. Fills my heart, yet breaks it. It enraptured me for sure when I saw my first pro game in 1972 and a guy named Murcer doubled off another guy named Palmer. One is a hall of famer. The other doesn't need to be.

It made me cry when in 1996, my boyhood team won their first title in 18 years, and I couldn't share it with the one person I wanted to share it with.

Most of all, selfishly, give me a microphone so that I can broadcast it.

This is the beginning of my year. This is when I feel refreshed.

This is when I know that this horrible winter is over.

It's Opening Day.

Play ball.

Back to It

 

Brunswick warms up

Today was the first full day back in Connecticut after our vacation.

We had to return the rental car and then I had to call a lacrosse game.

Things got back to normal pretty fast. I had laundry done and folded by the end of last night. More to the point, I slept some but, as usual, not great. 

By late morning, Sean and I were on the road to return the car to Stamford. Usually prepared, I screwed up by not bringing my copy of the contract with Budget. Ultimately, it didn't hurt things but it sort of made me feel foolish.

Whatever. We departed and no extra charges were added. We had that car for 11 days and it was a pleasure.

With that done, we jumped on a train and came back to Greenwich. 

Once Sean found out we could take a train, he wanted to join me. Both train stations were within walking distance so it was a win.

With that done, I prepared to call my first game in a week and a half.

I felt rusty. It felt like I hadn't done a game in a month.

But I was back at Brunswick, calling lacrosse for the Bruins as they hosted Radnot High School from Pennsylvania.

Cool fact: Radnor's boys basketball coach is Tim Smallwood, who played both football and basketball and Greenwich. I broadcast his games, including the night he joined the 1,000-point club in basketball. My broadcast partner was his father. 

So Tim came to Cosby Field to watch the game and stopped up to say hello at halftime. We were going to try to have me call a Radnor basketball game this past season but we're going to get that done in the future.

Otherwise, like I said, I felt tired and caked in rust on the air. There are some sports I think I can seamlessly jump back into (hello, baseball) but lacrosse isn't one of them. I needed to find my groove and I don't know if I found it today but I will.

Oh, and Brunswick won the game 11-5. They're 2-0 on the year.

One thing I will tell you is that I already miss the road. That's unusual, as I tend to like a day or two (or sometimes more) before being ready to get back in the car.

Not this time. I'd go again if I could.

What sticks with me about the drive to and from Florida was how it was the culmination of something I've wanted to do for a very long time. It was something I honestly never thought I'd do because it's just easier to fly.

And, to be honest, those kinds of long drives can be seriously overwhelming. It's easy to have a moment in which you think you've bit off more than you can chew.

Yet? We did it. I had one patch of exhaustion through South Carolina last Tuesday and if you've ever done that drive I guarantee you understand. It's a lot of lowland and not too much to see.

Also, Sean seemed to really enjoy the drive. Look, I didn't create a sports fan but he enjoys working in the business and attending games. I also didn't create a traveler just like my dad and me but he enjoyed life on the road. 

Sean's not going to prepare and study guidebooks and websites and make notes and spreadsheets* and whatever else I do.

*I track times and mileages in a notebook and put them into a spreadsheet and I enjoy it, thank you very much.

But he was interested in doing that drive again. Also, he was intrigued by the idea of driving straight through.

I've done OK. That many days together can be tough but we survived.

Next year is at least worth discussing.

*****

Former Sen. Joseph Lieberman

I wade into this with trepidation but here goes. 

Joseph Lieberman, U.S. Senator from Connecticut and 2000 Vice Presidential nominee, died today at the age of 82.

I admired Lieberman, mostly because of his ability to bring people together. While he ran with Al Gore on the Democratic ticket in 2000, Lieberman was considered strongly by John McCain as his running mate in 2008, despite McCain being a Republican.

That was Lieberman and I admire that fiercely.

I suppose that's the larger point I want to make tonight.

We need more Joe Lieberman's (and I suppose John McCain's) because they were people who weren't hung up on parties and sides.

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

Lieberman was also always a great guest on Imus in the Morning. He gave good answers on topics and had a sense of humor.

Farewell, Senator, and thank you.

Baltimore (Heading Home, Part Two)

 

(Photo: Tasos Katopodis | Getty Images)

Most mornings, I look at one of my devices to get a sense of what's going on in the world.

This morning, the alarm went off at 5 a.m. and I sprung to action, heading into the bathroom at my niece's house to get ready to drive home.

When I returned to the bedroom that we used, Sean was sitting up and looking at his phone.

He went into the bathroom to get ready and I packed up. I folded sheets and the comforter that he used and made the bed I slept on look presentable. Then I folded up the air mattress that he used.

Then I looked at my phone. Kourtney (Kris's sister) had texted me. That's not entirely unusual since she's an early riser and heads to the gym. I figured she might be wishing me a safe drive home.

Yes, true. But there was more. She was checking on us as well.

A bridge had collapsed in Baltimore. A bridge that isn't normally part of my route but, still, I've been over it.

Grateful for the heads-up, my mind began to swirl. But, come on, collapse? What does that even mean? Did a portion of it collapse? A piece of concrete?

Then I looked online. Wow.

The Francis Scott Key Bridge -- opened in 1977 -- had been hit by a container ship.

It was gone.

Calmly, I began searching for more. Maybe WBAL -- Baltimore's news/talk radio station -- might have information.

It did but, at that point, I needed reporting. I didn't need talk about where the money for a new bridge would come from.

I told Sean and we were both horrified. Saddened. Shocked.

In the middle of all of that was the reality that we had to decide how to address driving near Baltimore on our way home from North Carolina.

Honestly, our driving inconvenience (if there was one) would be a small price to pay.

Petting a few cats and a dog, we ducked out of Kristy's as everyone in the house slept.

It was just after 6 a.m.

The important thing was to remind myself that we had all day and, at worst, until tomorrow to return the rental car. 

That's always the place I need to get to. That everything will be OK.

Still, the silicon chip inside my head was bordering on overload.

Do I head east towards Norfolk and run up the Delmarva? Do I head west and north through Gettysburg, PA? Do I clip West Virginia and use I-81? How do I avoid Baltimore?

In the meantime, both Waze and Google said the same thing: take the normal route. But that seemed silly.

So after having our last breakfast (at an empty Waffle House just to the north of Fayetteville), we began the drive up I-95.

By the way, the Waffle House really was empty. The waitress and cook were just sitting and talking when we walked in. Honestly, I felt a little guilty for making them work. But, in reality, they both couldn't have been any nicer, and the food was simply up to and beyond the usual standard.

But to the drive. We struggled to make time on 95, up to taking a break after crossing into Virginia. Then we hit typical DMV traffic between Fredericksburg and Springfield.

We moved along the Capital Beltway, crossing the Potomac into Maryland. For the most part, I was all about the bridge collapse, beginning with listening to CNN on SiriusXM before switching over to WTOP radio and, eventually, back to WBAL.

A note on CNN. Oof. I mean, I've done breaking news. It's not easy. You have to adjust and stay on your toes. But, again, oof. And, dammit, the journalism world weeps as one of the anchors turned into an almost-shouting exaggerator of a mess.

The speculation and the gloom-and-doom were just bad. I tried FOX and, for the record, that was only moderately better, but it was the audio of what Mr. Imus used to call "FOX and Fiends." 

Credit to the radio people at WTOP and WBAL for a much more measured and accurate approach. My faith in journalism was restored.

In the meantime, through the 200+ miles since Fayetteville, nothing had changed. The suggested route was to go through Baltimore. My alternate route -- U.S. 50 (secret I-595) to U.S. 301 to Delaware -- wouldn't be necessary.

We snagged lunch at a Wawa just off the Baltimore-Washington Parkway. We took our time and then I took a deep breath.

I didn't know what we were getting into but it was time to find out.

By that time, reports were that six people were missing. That was far more important and I remained glued to the coverage.

Something else had come to light by this time. Thanks to a warning issued by the ship, officials were able to stop traffic from crossing the bridge before impact. Even at 1:28 a.m., the loss of life would have been far worse.

But, sadly, construction workers fixing potholes were still on the bridge. While two people were reported as found alive in the water, six remain missing as of this writing. At this point, they are presumed dead. Of the two people found alive, one had injuries while the other walked away unscathed and declined treatment. Still, the one who went to the hospital had been released later in the day, according to the New York Times.

The impacts on the economy and infrastructure were among the hot topics burning up the radio. One topic I had zero patience for was the conspiracy theories and I saw plenty of that, including among just a few of those in the road enthusiast community.

Nope. I don't have the bandwidth for that. 

As for the drive, I have no drama for you. Waze and Google were correct. Whether I picked the Harbor Tunnel (Interstate 895) or the Fort McHenry Tunnel (Interstate 95) I would have been fine. We breezed through the Harbor Tunnel but there was an eerie feeling in the air.

Maybe it was just me.

I seriously can not imagine the horror for those workers on the bridge. According to the New York Times, they were migrants trying to support their families.

They were out for what should have been a typical job. 

The ramifications are just so tragic.

We got home just before 5 p.m. In fact, after our lunch at Wawa south of Baltimore, we didn't stop again. We were heading towards nearly five hours without a stop but we were both OK with that decision.

We've been home almost three hours and The Cat is back to his normal self while two loads of laundry are rolling around. And, for the first time in nearly 10 days, I'm in a room of my own, alone in my thoughts, while Sean has some privacy in his room.

After a night of sleep, we'll return the car and I'll get ready to call lacrosse at Brunswick.

It's time to climb right back on the wheel of real life.

Many thanks to everyone who texted to make sure we were safe this morning, especially concerned about what happened in Baltimore. It serves as a great reminder of what a wonderful collection of love and support we have.

And, well, after a break, I'll be ready to hit the road again.

Heading Home, Part One

 

All hail the mighty beaver!

Greetings from Stedman, North Carolina.

This is exactly where we were one week ago, heading south.

Today, we're heading north.

Tomorrow, the final 600 miles will speed by and we'll be back in Greenwich.

Back to life. Back to reality.

We got an early start out of Florida this morning and crossed into Georgia at 9:19 a.m.

I tried my best to savor every moment of the drive, just as I've tried to savor as much of the trip as possible.

We cruised through Georgia and were soon into South Carolina.

Probably our favorite town name (koo-saw-HATCH-ee)

Stops were kept to a minimum. After breakfast just a few minutes from Kris and Lori's, we went until I put gas in the car. We didn't stop again until 49 miles into Georgia. Then we went three hours until we pulled off at Buc-ee's in Florence, SC, where Sean and I both grabbed brisket sandwiches.

They were outstanding. We bow to our beaver overlord.

We were at my niece's by 3 p.m. and are now winding down, knowing an early alarm and a long road home await in the morning.

The emotions will be strong. I want to get home and there's no doubt about that. But there's the "end of vacation blues" that comes with the grind of those final miles. There will be traffic for sure. It was heavy today but it never stopped. Tomorrow I'm sure we'll hit some stops if we go anywhere near Washington, D.C.

Still, we'll try to continue to savor.

We know we're going to hit the ground running come Wednesday. I'll dive back into broadcasting games, with Brunswick lacrosse in action. Baseball and more will follow as the week goes along.

But it's important to live life. That's what I keep taking from these experiences. It's simply too short.

So I'm trying. I really am.

We've already begun talking about next year. Because, believe me, it's so tempting to go jump in the car and drive the final approximately nine hours.

I mentioned that in passing to Sean and he told me I was nuts.

That being said, we both talked about trying to do the whole drive in one shot next year. Will we? Who knows?

Let's get home first.

A Final Drive Down the Fairway

 

The view across the Anclote River from
Capt. Jack's in Tarpon Springs

Today was our last full day in Florida.

We went down swinging, even if that swing was with a golf club.

Oh, we had breakfast and it was magnificent. But we also had tickets to the Valspar Championship golf tournament final round. It's played on the Copperhead Course at Innisbrook Resort and Golf Club.

As we drove towards Palm Harbor, I pulled into Trinity Memorial Gadens to visit the grave of George M. Steinbrenner. The Yankees owner is interred in a mausoleum just inside the main gate. We quickly paid our respects and moved on to Innisbrook. 

The Boss

Originally a club, my grandparents (and the great-grandparents of Kris and Sean) were charter members. That meant we frequently visited the club for Sunday brunch when we were in Florida.

And brunch was magnificent. It had to be as we were required to dress in our best for the appearance, while virtually everyone else was in tennis and golf attire.

A nearby golf pro shop was about the only other place of interest for the teenager of the 80s could be interested once brunch was consumed and talk turned to multiple cups of coffee. But, in that pro shop, my interest in golf was piqued.

That, and I could see some of the golf course from the windows of the restaurant.

And so being able to return to Innisbrook for the first time since 1986 was quite special. So much of it looked different but the vibe was the same. 

But this time I was walking on the golf course as opposed to being that 17-year-old looking from the windows of the clubhouse.

The course, needless to say, is rather large, and the action can be somewhat mundane for the non-golf fan (I give you Sean). We all enjoyed watching Xander Schauffele drain a long putt for par on the 12th hole. 

Kris's dad (my cousin Ron) worked his magic to get us into an arena where he was watching the fourth hole. We enjoyed refreshments and a slice of pizza before resuming our walk.

But if you've ever been to a golf tournament you know it can be a long day of walking, watching, standing, and maybe sitting. 

There are certainly corporate things to gaze at, though many require special tickets. We did get pictures taken with the Snake Pit statue and, for the first time in my 55 years of visiting Florida, I spotted an alligator.

Before leaving, we looked at the merchandise but nothing really spoke to me. If anything, I wanted something that reflected the resort as opposed to either the tournament or the golf course. I'm hoping we'll come back when the tournament isn't on for that kind of stuff. I know I had an Innisbrook shirt many years ago.

Instead, the three of us packed up and took the shuttle back to the car to head to dinner in Tarpon Springs, where we sat on an open tiki bar overlooking the Anclote River with the sponge docks across the way.

It felt like the right way to begin to wrap up this wonderful adventure.

Back at our home away from home, Sean and I took a last walk around the grounds before joining Kris and Lori to talk (and pick on me). We both talked about what this trip meant to each other. Sure, I'm ready to return to Connecticut because I miss a few things there (including that silly cat) but this region of Florida means so much to me.

And I can never explain it properly.

It's nostalgic. It absolutely is. To that end, I drove by my grandparents' house in Holiday and realized just how much things had changed. The house is the same, no question, but it needs some TLC. The whole neighborhood does.

But, still, there's enormous nostalgia here. There's also family here. Family that I'm close to.

There are so many things that make me happy here. I didn't even get to Howard Park in Tarpon Springs but it's OK. We ran out of time. But that's just one of the many things that tickles me. The Sponge Docks and John's Pass and going to sporting events and walking around Tampa and driving out to Orlando.

In truth, I don't need to explain why this region produces such joy for me. You either get it or you don't.

Alas, my alarm will go off tomorrow morning and we'll pull ourselves together. We'll say our goodbyes and hit the road.

Then North Carolina awaits.

Then The Cat awaits.

Then reality strikes again.

Today was a cherished finish to a cherished trip.

Thank you, Florida.

Until next time.

The Disney Conundrum

 

I felt like I lost money driving under this sign

There are times that I feel I've failed as a father.

My child, for instance, has never been to Walt Disney World.

Until today, that is.

Now, hold on. Let's not get ahead of ourselves. We didn't go into any of the parks. We didn't step on one ride or have churros in the shape of mouse ears.

We elected to only go to Disney Springs, the shopping, eating, and entertainment complex.

And "we" was the father/son combo.

Now, understand that I was never one to "keep up with the Jones" if you will. I didn't care what the other families did or any kind of economic pressure.

In fact, it was economic pressure of another kind that kept us from going to Disney World, or Florida for that matter. I couldn't afford it.

Sadly, it just never happened.

I will say that Sean also never pushed to go to Disney World.

But, until today, he had never been.

We talked a lot about going for a day this year. Ultimately, he decided that the ticket price was too steep.

I mean, a ticket to any one park was $180 today? So, if you're doing the math, Dad gets to drop $381 (with taxes) for two tickets.

Ultimately, the theme parks were ruled out for this trip.

Side note: Amusement parks should have a "visitor only" option that allows a guest to come in and not go on any rides but just guests to visit. I'm still going to visit the gift shops and restaurants. I mean, common sense isn't common.

But I thought Disney Springs would give Sean a chance to get to Orlando and catch a sense of the Disney buzz.

I was right.

We scuffled through traffic out Interstate 4 and grabbed parking (shockingly free). 

In truth, Disney took very little of our money. Intrigued by the Coca-Cola Store, we went to their rooftop beverage bar where I had a glass bottle of Coke. Sean, not a carbonated drinker, fetched a grape drink from their fountain.

An inexpensive T-shirt later, we moved on.

We mostly walked around, visiting the two Star Wars stores (I do NOT need Star Wars mouse ears) and the large World of Disney store (Sean declined to wear mouse ears for his father).

We strolled through some other stores as I regaled him with stories of visits when I came with my family as far back as 1971.

We watched vintage amphicars take guests on a 20-minute tour ($125, thank you very much) and a performer move around on a mobile piano. I admired her talent and gusto. It takes a special kind of person to grind like that, hoping for whatever opportunity comes from moving a moving piano at Disney Springs.

Most of all, it had a feeling of Disney World without being in the theme parks.

Look, I have very mixed feelings when it comes to Disney. On the one hand, their greed (yes, I know it's a business) borders on astounding. The feel-good that came from being a kid at Walt's utopia in the 70s is largely gone when seen through a jaded eye.

On the other hand, watch a little kid (or become a little kid) and it all crystallizes. I felt something in my heart with each glance of Mickey Mouse -- returning to being a child, when I had (and still have in my attic) a stuffed Mickey.

Heck, I still have a Mickey Mouse watch that I bought years ago. It just sits in a box.

So when I saw a Walt Disney World T-shirt with a classic Mickey Mouse on it, I smiled.

Then I decided I didn't want it for $34. Besides, it's not going anywhere.

As we left Disney Springs, I drove a bit of the grounds to see if Sean could get more of a feeling.

You bet I got my picture taken with the Coca-Cola 
Polar Bear! 

If anything, it was more nostalgic for me, remembering visiting when I was a kid.

Or remembering playing on the Fantasia mini golf course.

Sean, never one to voice what he's feeling, laid mostly low on the topic.

But back with Kris and Lori, we grabbed dinner and ice cream before coming home.

"So did today give you your fill of Disney or do you want to go back?" I asked.

"Oh, I definitely want to go back," he said.

Save your money, Sean. We can go next year.

Though jaded, you'll never forget it.

Rainy Day

 

Taken in Ocala on Tuesday

Florida is a state that, generally speaking, you visit because you want to be outdoors.

That doesn't mean there aren't good shopping options and museums and other things that will get one inside, but the amusement parks and beaches are all in nature.

So when the weather turns ugly, the options change a bit.

Today was supposed to be a wall of rain. We had heard it would be one to two inches of precipitation but that didn't quite materialize.

As I write (after 8 p.m.) the rain has kicked back in but, otherwise, the storm turned and we didn't get the expected amount. I had some heavy rain during the overnight but that seemed to be the worst of it.

So, with the threat of rain, that meant adjusting. The beach wasn't realistic of course. The theme parks weren't either and, besides, they're pretty expensive.

None of the indoor options were working.

So we spent a chunk of the day around our home away from home.

Eventually, we went into downtown Tampa to walk around.

In truth, I've never known much about Tampa itself. Oh, sure, I know Steinbrenner Field and Raymond James Stadium and things like that but I really didn't know the downtown area at all.

I've always heard about Ybor City, but that's more of a restaurant/bar area and the three of us weren't looking for that.

So we opted to stay closer to the home of the Tampa Bay Lightning, Amalie Arena.

We found parking and took off on the Tampa Riverwalk before finishing at Sparkman Wharf, which has some shopping and dining options.

However, we had dinner plans so we took note of everything and committed to coming back one day.

Admittedly, I'm not good at being inactive on vacation unless I have to. Thus I was happy to get out and take the walk before returning to meet up with family for dinner.

After dinner, we treated ourselves to some ice cream and are now beginning to settle down.

We have two full days remaining here in Florida before our scheduled departure on Monday morning.

*****

(Screenshot from video posted on social media)

Despite the love of travel, the real world carries on. With that said, I wanted to share a note of support to Catherine, Princess of Wales. Princess Kate hasn't been seen in some time and there was the thing with a picture that was apparently edited.

To be honest, I hadn't been paying close attention.

But today she posted a video to announce that she has been battling cancer and while the video is upbeat in that she "is well and getting stronger every day." To that, I say bravo but I also hope it is true.

I'm no expert when it comes to the Royal Family but I have a healthy regard and respect for them. Princess Kate has always struck me as extremely likable. Regardless of likability, she is a mother and a wife and worthy of respect and compassion. Also, she is only 42 years old though cancer pays little attention to such things.

But what I'm trying to say is that I hope for a speedy recovery for her. I know there is the scrutiny of her subjects, social media, and the press. I think she handles all of it with grace, much in the same way her mother-in-law once did.

Speedy recovery, your Royal Highness.

My Drive

 

We slapped this day together.

Breakfast? OK, we did that. There's an outstanding local place across the street that we ate at last year. Not everything has to be Waffle House.

After pulling ourselves together, the three guys (me, Sean, and Kris) grabbed three tickets to the Tampa Bay Rays/Philadelphia Phillies game at BayCare Ballpark in Clearwater. We bought the tickets as we drove, pulled into the parking lot, and were waiting for our tickets to be scanned as the national anthem sounded out.

Oh, we had "berm" tickets, meaning on the grass beyond the outfield fence, but we never sat down. We stood and leaned.

What a ballpark. Honestly, that might be the best of the spring training offerings.

And it was packed. 

The Phillie Phanatic. Pound-for-pound, he's as 
good as mascots come

And it was a pretty good game, as the Phillies rallied to take the lead before the Rays tied it in the top of the eighth and won it in the top of the ninth.

We also had a treat, grabbing Krispy Kreme donuts in Tampa on the way home.

And dinner. Oh, my. Steak, fries, salad.

To top it all off, Sean and I decided to make a late run to John's Pass in Madeira Beach. Kris and Lori elected to hang back, giving us some father/son time.

While I would have been pleased had they joined us, we still enjoyed ourselves.

The first stop -- after getting ripped off for parking -- was the beach. Sadly, any hint of daylight was behind clouds so we stepped into the Gulf of Mexico with no sign of sunset.

No matter. The water was chilly but we adjusted, simply talking and laughing and watching the nearby drawbridge lift up for a passing sailboat.

Then we walked around the shops and took in the evening. We did what we do -- telling stories and laughing. Even serious topics are mostly handled with honesty and humor.

In the end, neither one of us spent a dime, even passing on ice cream (Sean decided the lines were too long). 

That's when I decided to treat myself by just driving.

I drove closer to the water at first, coming up along US 19 Alt through Seminole and Largo and Clearwater before branching off at Dunedin.

Using SR 580, I connected with US 19 to roll up through Palm Harbor and Tarpon Springs into Holiday, where my grandparents lived for many years.

Dripping with nostalgia, I fought the urge to go any further as I veered toward our home away from home, passing the two cemeteries where my father and George Steinbrenner (!) are buried.

Two separate cemeteries. Just in case that wasn't clear.

Sean was content to do his thing as I fussed with the radio, listening mostly to Q-105, which I've listened to here for roughly 40 years. Even if I was less than pleased with their musical choices. Then again, that's sort of how I was when I was sitting in the passenger seat, hoping they'd play Huey Lewis and the News back in 1986.

Some things never change.

Rain is supposed to really dampen things (yeah, I know, bad pun) tomorrow but we're considering our options about how to spend the day before moving into the weekend.

Monday -- and the road home -- will be here soon enough.