The CHSGHA Championship Game

New Canaan and Darien before the opening faceoff

I've talked extensively about calling the girls hockey state playoffs over the past few days, which concluded today with the championship game.

New Canaan -- the dominant team all season -- finished their mission with a 3-1 win over their arch-rivals Darien.

For my money, it was definitive. There's no doubt that Darien will be a force to be reckoned with in 2019-2020 due to their youth, but the Rams were the best team all year.

A few thoughts:

- As I've stressed, this is a labor of love for Mick McGowan and me. Mick brought wife Gretchen and son Finnbar with him, and I had Sean with me. I started the process of securing that we would be on the call back in December, yet nobody at Bennett Rink had any clue that we'd be there today. Mick and family were stopped at the front gate, and Sean actually had to go vouch for them. I don't blame Bennett Rink, to be clear, and everything turned out fine. Lesson learned: I've got to do this stuff myself.

- Speaking of the gate, where was everyone? Yes I know, the game was roughly 35 miles from each town, but this is the deal. Unlike the football championship, which is arranged by the CIAC, there was no Plan B for this game. The site was set as Bennett Rink, and it's a great facility with plenty of seating. You also can't just throw a hockey game at any old site. These girls work hard to get here. I (and others) keep banging the drum for girls hockey to get respect, and yet there were full seating areas that were practically empty. I've said it before: the girls deserve better.

- That being said those who were there cheered their lungs out. Good for them.

- Speaking of empty, when they presented the all-state team before the game, there were roughly five people in the stands and a few others near the main entrance. Among those in the stands: Gretchen, Sean, and Finnbar. Not exactly three people who know a lot about Connecticut girls hockey.

- These athletes deserve an audience, and thanks to those who spread the word about the game and the broadcasts. For those who might say people not in attendance were listening or watching: Nope. Not buying that. I saw the audience numbers. So clearly our message isn't getting around.

- Media-wise, Damian Andrew and the Darien Athletic Foundation were there with their video broadcast. CT Sports Now was there also shooting highlights. Dave Stewart was there, representing Hearst (New Canaan Advertiser and Daren Times). Read Dave's game story here. Otherwise, er, that was it (besides us, of course). West Haven was a veritable hub of hockey today, with two CIAC boys games after we left.

I'll repeat: the girls deserve much better.

Call us "A Team of Hockey" (per Mick's request)

Let none of this take anything away from New Canaan, as the title belongs to them. Let none of this deter from the three consecutive titles that Darien had won.

They gave us a good show. Darien tried to climb back to make it 3-2 in the third period. Bennett Rink would have been loud had it gotten there, but the New Canaan defense, led by the wonderful Jess Eccleston, shut everything down. They're a worthy champion.

Two great coaches -- Rich Bulan of NC and Jamie Tropsa of DHS. Two squads loaded with talent. Nearly forty wins between the two squads.

They battled from December until today.

I salute them.

*****
Download the game broadcast here.

 
Check this out on Chirbit

International Women's Day

Some nights I'm too tapped out to write.

Some nights I just don't have the words.

Some nights I have the words but fear it will come off as pandering, pedantic or something else.

But let me try.

It's International Women's Day, which can bring on the collection of questions about its necessity and so on.

I've been surrounded by amazing women since the day I was born.

That began with my tough-as-nails mom, and my sister, whom I've always been close to.

I watched my sister raise six kids, and she helped raise me too, to take nothing away from my mother.

My maternal grandmother was the very definition of one, and my grandfather's second wife was the only paternal grandmother that I knew (my actual grandmother died seven years before I was born, and would have been 140 years old in 2019). She might have been my "step" grandmother, but that didn't matter. She was great to me.

I have wonderful aunts and female cousins (and second cousins).

I have nieces and great-nieces I adore.

I can't even begin to talk about my friends, though I could just start by telling you about Susan, who might be the strongest person I know.

I can't tell you about her because she'd kill me.

Most -- perhaps, all -- of these women, in fact, would tell me this post is ridiculous because they don't need or want a day.

We all have strengths. I'm glad to have the strength, wisdom, compassion, ability, love, support, and friendship of each woman in my life.

You each amaze me in your own way. Thank you.

I don't need a day to tell you that, but I'm glad I took the opportunity to try to do so.

The Girls Hockey Mess of 2015

Champions. All of them (Mar 7, 2015)

Four years ago today, I called one of the most important games of my career.

It was a broadcast that nearly didn't happen.

We were scheduled to broadcast the boys FCIAC hockey championship on that Saturday at Terry Conners Rink in Stamford. But I discovered that the girls state* championship game was scheduled for earlier in the day.

* It is a state championship, but it is not sanctioned by the CIAC. It was created by the CHSGHA (the Connecticut High School Girls Hockey Association).

Me being me, I wanted to call the game. Despite attempts to talk me out of it to save my voice and energy, I prevailed. Eric Gendron, Jake Zimmer, and Chris Kaelin (eventually) joined me for the call.

And what a call it was.

Two great teams -- Simsbury and ETB (East Catholic/Glastonbury/South Windsor) gave us an exciting game. ETB built up a 2-0 lead before Simsbury rallied to tie the game. Two overtime periods weren't enough to resolve the issue.

We waited for the third overtime to start.

It wouldn't happen. The game was announced as a tie.

Co-champions.

The outrage was strong. There were charges of gender bias, which I didn't buy then (or now). This summary from USA Today (including a tweet from a broadcaster/podcaster/blogger) does a nice job of explaining everything.

Oh, my tweet included a link to the final stretch of the play-by-play. HAN took most of our old audio down, but I have the audio and I've reloaded that on Chirbit (the full game broadcast is at the bottom of this post).

Check this out on Chirbit

I repeat, the game was not stopped because the boys game was coming up, and USA Today tackled the issue again a day later.

FCIAC girls hockey chairperson (and New Canaan head coach) Rich Bulan came on Nutmeg Sports a few days later with Paul Silverfarb and me and explained exactly what he said to USA Today.

Basically, it was a misunderstanding of the rules, which were sketchy at best. But nothing nefarious happened.

Some of the athletes also came on Nutmeg Sports and spoke with the class and eloquence that indicated what a sad result this was.

I offered to broadcast the game if they ever wanted to play again, but of course, that never happened.

I'll never forget the grace of the players. I'll never forget the rush to judgment (and the attention our broadcast received).

Jack Edwards -- yes, THAT Jack Edwards (of NESN and the Boston Bruins) -- was outraged enough to want to talk to me about all of it.

Headline News (HLN) used our audio one morning, and none other than Susan heard it and texted me.

The very same Susan who wrote an incredible editorial, that was inspired by the words of those athletes.

We all learned from it. The CHSGHA has made sure that it never happened again.

I felt a responsibility to broadcast the game the next year but got shot down.

The game was played in West Haven, and I felt I had enough time to get from our broadcast in Stamford.  But it wasn't to be.

Last year, Mick McGowan and I called it (along with Shawn Sailer).

We'll be back again this weekend, as Darien and New Canaan meet for the title.

None of us will make a dime. In fact, we lose money.

I do it for the girls, who have no idea that I'm even there.

But they deserve it.

(Here's the broadcast)

Posting From My Car

Clearly not my car.

You’re not going to believe this but I’m in my car., and it's moving.

No, I'm not typing while I’m driving but talking while I’m driving.

Just to keep the streak alive.

Consider this Lou Gehrig batting leadoff on a day in which he needs a break.

But it’s 10 o’clock and I’ve just finished broadcasting two hockey games with Mick. I don’t know if I’ll get home before midnight to write a real post.

So this will have to do.

See you tomorrow.

Sorry, Greenwich

After much conjecture (and some confusion), I broadcast the Xavier/Greenwich CIAC DII first-round playoff game tonight.

I've been walking into that gym for a little over 19 years, and it's always nice to come back.

Things aren't quite what they used to be though when we did every game and it was known that we'd be there.

With the confusion of the past two days, I earned a slap on the wrist because GHS didn't know I'd be there, and I thought they did. Suh-wing and a miss! (Wrong sport, I know)

Obviously, I feel guilty about that, but I always have Paul Silverfarb to have my back.

Wait. Did I just say that? Hahahahahahahahah (OK, I'm kidding. He has my back. Really)

As for the game, the Falcons of Xavier in Middletown built a big lead in the third quarter, and despite a run by the Cardinals, Big Red fell short at the end. A terrific season for the Cardinals (all things considered) ended at 12-9.

And Greenwich is 0-2 on nights when I broadcast their games.

That also earned me a playful slap on the wrist.

For what it's worth, Greenwich boys hockey also played tonight.

Obviously, I was not there.

Greenwich lost to New Canaan in overtime, 2-1.

I couldn't jinx that one.

The girls hockey semis are tomorrow. Kato, Mick, and I are on the call.

Change of Plans

My little podcast has hit Apple (and Stitcher)

First, thanks to the brave few who listened to the first episode of "Tales From The Booth." I greatly appreciate those who took the time to try it out. The thing is, as I keep stressing, it's the first try, and it will evolve.

All along, I've planned on adding guests, maybe bringing over interviews from "Doubleheader," and perhaps digging into the archive for other interviews as well.

This has been rolling around in my brain for months and is the kind of thing I ponder in free moments (like driving).

I threw yesterday's show together, so if it wasn't up to your taste, understand I jumped into the deep end of the pool. I didn't let anyone pre-listen. I just went for it.

And, truthfully, I was really proud of it. I listened to it a few times on my own. Sure, I could nitpick it, but for someone who is renowned for ripping everything I do, I surprised myself by feeling OK with it.

Lastly, I've submitted it to several places, and Stitcher was the first to respond. Find it at https://www.stitcher.com/podcast/rob-adams/tales-from-the-booth?refid=stpr

And Apple just approved it as well. So once it hits iTunes, you can find it at https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/tales-from-the-booth/id1455042173.

*****
You all know the reality of things for me. We've spoken too much about it and shall not speak of it again.

That being said, my plans for today have changed. I had scheduled the Robcasting Radio staff (that's me) to be at Greenwich High School for the Cardinals' boys basketball playoff game against Xavier.

Then Local Live pulled me to Fairfield to call Notre Dame against Bristol Eastern in girls basketball, and duty calls.

I thought the weather would destroy the whole thing, as we have between eight inches and a foot of snow around these parts. Most schools are closed (except for Sean in Dutchess County).

However, some were planning to open for the games. As of this morning, GHS was still playing, so I had to message them with the bad news.

That game got postponed in the last half hour.

The Notre Dame-Fairfield and Bristol Eastern game is still on. Game time is 6:30, and should be available at locallive.tv.

If it all goes well, I can now go to Greenwich tomorrow night for the Cardinals and Falcons.

But...things can change.

The Only Thing We Have to Fear

created by AJ Szymanowski

Much like agonizing over starting this blog almost 13 years ago, I agonized over a new project.

A podcast.

Well, I published the first episode a few minutes ago.

It's been rolling in my brain for a few months. I love sports. I love sports play-by-play. I'm a historian (an historian? Grammar experts seem to debate that one) when it comes to a lot of this stuff.

Or just a savant. Or an idiot.

Anyway, I got the idea to pick out play-by-play calls from throughout history and break it all down.

My intention is to play the clip (or clips) and place it in its proper time, discussing the top hits (music and movies) of the day, culture, the broadcasters themselves, and whatever else pops into my mind.

I'll also veer away from sports for other moments in time.

To be clear, this is NOT a part of #Project365 (and John Nash, stop being stubborn. It's still #Project365. Missing a day just means post something else. Double up. Or do like I did and create a couple of backup posts).

With the incoming storm (many schools have already canceled classes tonight), I took the weekend to really put the podcasting process into high gear.

In truth, I had been thinking about it for some time. First came the concept, and I think that's still a work in progress. It will evolve for sure.

Next came the theme music. Again, it's a work in progress. I keep hearing jazz on the podcasts that I listen to and felt that highlighting historical audio leaned into the wheelhouse of Duke Ellington and Count Basie and Benny Goodman.

Of course, The Duke, The Count, and Benny would no doubt like a fee for the use of their songs. So I scoured the interwebs for royalty-free music until I stumbled on Swing Has Swung, by Shane Ivers - https://www.silvermansound.com.

Catchy tune, for sure. I'm still not sure if it's what I want, and that's one of the many things that I'm open to discussing.

When you have a sound in your head (or a concept), it's hard to get around it.

Next came the title. I really didn't tell anyone about the concept until recently. Then I brainstormed with a few people.

I liked the idea of working in the booth/microphone/headset idea, but booth can also apply to a "radio booth" at a station, and broadcast booth/press box. Tales From The Crypt came to my mind -- a nod to my favorite horror writer  (buy her books here) -- and thus a title was finally born.

Tales From The Booth.

Then I had to submit that to a podcast host. Whooshkaa won because, well, they're free. They're also pretty easy. That matters. Thanks to Rachel Corbett for the suggestion (she doesn't know me, but that's OK. I still give props).

Now it was time to write the script. I sat down with my trusty (not really) MacBook and began writing. Three pages later, I had the foundation of what I wanted to say.

Robcasting Radio, created by AJ Szymanowski

In the middle of writing a script, I realized that I needed a logo. I had my Robcasting Radio/Media logo that AJ Szymanowski created for me back in 2017, but he, of course, came roaring back with what you'll see for the actual show. The Robcasting logo can stay on my profile page.

I needed to pull together that audio that I wanted, so I worked my way through what I had and what I needed to record.

Finally, it was time for me to put the vocal track down. After a few false starts (the outtakes have been deleted), I had a vocal that was ready for editing.

So began the placing of the historical audio and the nitpicking. There was something I left out, so I had to do a little more recording, as well as the recording of other audio (I'm giving nothing away so you have to listen).

With the edits finished, I texted a friend and messaged another. My main point was fear.

"It's too short. It's not that interesting." And so on.

"Nonsense," essentially, was the response.

I thought I'd send them the audio, and let them hear it for themselves, but the Whooshkaa upload process was simple. So was applying to iTunes and Spotify and TuneIn.

Now it's on Facebook and Twitter and LinkedIn.

What had I done?

All of a sudden, I was officially a podcaster. It was live.

I felt naked.

This is about right.

I did a list of "thank yous" at the end, and, full disclosure, I forgot some names. Damn. I wanted to thank Susan, Shawn, AJ, and others who have encouraged me. I should have mentioned Mick (who is a fervent blog reader and one of my closest friends. He's constantly making sure that I'm OK, and I owe him a huge apology for not mentioning him. John Nash also, but he's in this whole "Project364" thing, so I'm less forgiving).

Anyway, apologies if I forgot you. I'm quite nervous about it all.

So it's out there for the world to listen to. It's only 16 minutes, and maybe I'll do more. Maybe less. Maybe I'll never do it again. I really don't know.

But I tried.

FDR was right. The only thing we have to fear is fear itself.

Which will likely also be featured on a future episode of Tales From The Booth.

Without any further ado, here's episode one.

Only One Woman Is In the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame Twice

Fleetwood Mac: Mick Fleetwood, Christine McVie, Stevie Nicks, Lindsey Buckingham, John McVie

I read an interview with Stevie Nicks recently.

Written by the fabulous Rob Sheffield in Rolling Stone, Nicks mused about a variety of topics, from her shawls to Prince and Tom Petty, the amazing Christine McVie, and so much more.

It's a great interview and a reminder of why Stevie Nicks is such an icon in rock history. She sounds wonderfully grounded and just as cool as you imagine she would be.

Yes, I've famously said I'd take McVie over Stevie, and I don't deny that. Christine McVie has one of those voices that I'd let sing anything to me.

If Vin Scully could read a grocery list, then Christine McVie could sing it. However, that doesn't mean I don't like Stevie. But come on. Just a small sample tells you her resume is filled with some pretty special songs.

The Chain (yes, a duet with Lindsey Buckingham, but still)
Landslide
Gold Dust Woman
Rhiannon
Dreams

You know, sort of a who's who of Fleetwood Mac. Then there's obviously her solo work, which never quite resonated as much with me (because, frankly, I got sick of them), but there's no denying how important those songs are.

But Stevie is also now the answer to a trivia question, which I gave away in the title of this post.

Stevie Nicks is the first woman to be inducted into the woefully-misguided Rock and Roll Hall of Fame twice.

"It’s 22 to zero," she told Sheffield.

It's unofficially called "The Clyde McPhatter Club," after the first person to be inducted twice. McPhatter entered the hall in 1987 as a solo artist, and in 1988 as a member of The Drifters. Eric Clapton was next, having entered in 1992 as a member of The Yardbirds, and 1993 as a part of Cream, before becoming the first three-time inductee as himself.

Some of the others are obvious. There are these guys named John Lennon, Paul McCartney, George Harrison, and Ringo Starr. They're each in solo and as members of The Beatles.

Then there's Greg Rolie. Who? Rolie was a member of both Santana and Journey. Good timing, indeed.

My point is the names are both familiar and maybe not as much.

This post is not to debate the merits of the Hall of Fame. Anyone knows that it's flawed at best.

No, we're here to figure out what other women should be in more than once.

The first name that came to my mind was Diana Ross. Now, let's not get pedantic about it being called "The ROCK and ROLL Hall of Fame." We all know that's a misnomer, and that train is long gone. Rap, country, bluegrass, pop (Hi, Madonna), jazz, R&B, and gospel acts have all been honored in one way or another. So let's ignore that Diana Ross was anything but rock and roll after her days with The Supremes.

There's no debating Ross is a legend (by the way, she lives in Greenwich, and I got to hear her do soundcheck one night back in 2004 when she put on a free concert. You could hear it from our WGCH's old studio on Dayton Ave).

So I guess I'm surprised she's not in a second time. But beyond her, who?

You need to be in the right places. You need to be a part of a legendary group and have a great solo career. Or, I suppose you could be in a position of power (producer, executive, etc).

Now, I know this can open a rabbit hole of conversation about the lack of opportunities for women, and that's truly and duly noted. My sincere hope is that will one day not be a necessary conversation.

So we have Stevie Nicks. I'm offering Diana Ross. But who else?

I could make a case for The Go-Go's, for instance, but then my head will explode at the lack of respect for Mr. Lewis, Huey and his friends from Marin County, CA in that case. And I can't make a case for Belinda Carlisle's solo career. So, no.

Could Tina Turner go in as a solo artist? There's a case to be made there.

Will it be Beyoncé, along with Destiny's Child (again, forget that the Hall of Fame is named for Rock and Roll)?

Who's that woman (or women) that I'm missing?

*****
Forgive me (someone is bound to be offended), but whenever I think of Stevie Nicks, I think of this funny parody that my first radio buddy Brian played for me back in the early 90's.

Out of My Control

White Noise

I have some great friends in my life. I know I've said that before.

I'm grateful. Truly. I have love, and I know that. Even in the darkest moments.

That's not what this is about.

Wednesday was a particularly frustrating day, and part of it (speaking honestly) was about the nonsense going on in Washington and around our great nation.

Part of it was (obviously) personal, dealing with nonsense around my own world (centered, in this case, on Greenwich).

A day later, a friend (who shall stay unnamed unless I'm told otherwise) texted me with the hope that Thursday would be better (it was). I also received a quote from my friend that said: "Look at the circle of people that you communicate with and those that communicate with you. Eliminate the ones that provide white noise with no purpose, and only focus on those that bring constructive elements. It makes one's life much easier and manageable."

It's wonderful advice, and it would be marvelous to truly be able to live by that.

But the white noise struck again today.

So that's where I am: trying to resolve to get past things that I can't control.

You see, I'm not a control freak, and I don't mean to come off as such. But I'm also not good at dealing with things that I want to deal with but can't.

Like white noise.

And voices.

And other things that do concern me but don't concern me.

I realize that this is somewhat difficult to understand without specifics, and I try to give what I can but also not cross the line.

I spoke very openly today on Doubleheader. At least, I did up to a point.

Yet I'm embarrassed about it.

The fact is that I've brought passion and hard work to every game broadcast. I've worked tirelessly for each place.

I've given WGCH and Greenwich a lot in nearly 22 years.

Like a pitcher, I want the ball in the big game.

Every game.

If that's not wanted or appreciated, then so it goes.

It's out of my control.

This is my livelihood at stake. Not a fun hobby.

Sadly, the white noise sometimes wins, whether we like it or not.

Oh, another wise man once said: "I don't care too much for money. Money can't buy me love." (Paul McCartney, of course)

What a Night

Ridgefield celebrates

We saw the joy of sports again tonight at Wilton High School.

The Danbury Hatters had a 10-point lead with 3:30 to play in the fourth quarter of the FCIAC boys basketball championship game.

Then things changed.

The Ridgefield Tigers -- the number five seed in the tournament -- raced back with a 15-2 run to take the title from the third-seeded Hatters.

It's nights like this when I feel blessed to do what I do. The sweat, exhaustion, and frustration all become worth it. It further enhances how I want to call every game and can't get enough.

Often, the adrenaline will just flow out of me after a game like this. Tonight, I find I'm wired. Scott Ericson, Shawn Sailer, and I all expressed that on press row after it was all over.

I was joined on the broadcast by Joel Geriak, the excellent Wilton coach and a friend. Joel did some games last year, though we had never worked together. Still, as I always say, I'm fine so long as I have a feel for the person. I believed Joel would be great, and he was.

Enough babbling from me. Listen to this game. Watch this game. Read Scott's recap.

This is what it looked like on Fairfield.live: https://fairfield.live/?p=11818

As for the audio, here's the full broadcast (download the whole game here)

This is the last 3:30 of the game.





Listen to the final moments as Ridgefield wins the title.


Check this out on Chirbit

I've got hockey over the weekend before heading back into basketball, and I've begun looking the baseball and lacrosse schedules over.

But thank you, Danbury, Ridgefield, and the FCIAC for the reminder of the wonder and joy of sports.

Here's James St. Pierre's game-winner basket. #ctbb @RidgefieldAD pic.twitter.com/akFw15Tv1q

— Shawn Sailer (@ShawnSailer) March 1, 2019

Ridgefield wins FCIAC title #ctbb pic.twitter.com/eaEkx6MemC

— Scott Ericson (@EricsonSports) March 1, 2019

Taking the Night Off

Part of the Wilton student section from last night. What a great turnout.

I had a post written, but it was dark and angry and even political and not in my best interest to post.

So there's that.

No game in Poughkeepsie tonight due to the weather, so I'm back tomorrow for the FCIAC boys basketball championship.

Here's a great editorial from the Darien (CT) Times, about ... well ... read it. I think it's worth it.

That's pretty much it from me tonight. Days/nights like this are going to happen sometimes, and silence is the best choice for me.

I'll let House Oversight Committee Chairman Elijah Cummings (D-MD) have the final say. Not as an indictment of President Trump. But as an indictment of everything.

Be better, people. I keep saying it and, yet, I can say no more tonight.

See you tomorrow.

Going Home and Time Is Running Out

I'm sitting inside the fieldhouse at Wilton High School.

It's late, and I might not be able to get this post out before midnight if I wait until I get home.

I did the FCIAC semifinals tonight in boys basketball, and they were so-so affairs.

Danbury beat Wilton (the host team) by 20.

Ridgefield beat Trumbull (the top seed) by seven, but the Tigers had it under control.

This building had 3,000 in it at one point, and the atmosphere was almost electric.

I was supposed to do Greenwich/Darien in the FCIAC hockey semis, but someone "bought" the broadcast, which means I'm out. Long story.

That's showbiz. So I've picked up Rye/Poughkeepsie basketball in the Section 1 Class A semis up in Poughkeepsie.

Though that will likely get snowed out.

But it's time to go home. They're closing this place up.

I'll be back here Thursday (on fairfield.live).

The Best Sound

I got an Alexa late last year.

Oh, wait, an Amazon Echo Dot (3rd Generation).

Pretty cool device, it is. Not the best speaker ever, but not the worst either. It does all kinds of things (you likely know this already), and I've barely scratched the surface of the "smart house."

Maybe I'll get the light bulbs and outlets and so on eventually.

For now, I'm satisfied with my Question of the Day, a little Jeopardy, Sports Jeopardy, and the ability to have Alexa land a TARDIS.

She can also meow and freak Chico the large gray cat out.

More to the point (and thus, I'm burying the lead), Alexa can dip into a variety of sounds, including various music stations on iHeart Radio, Pandora, and more.

It can also play various "sleep sounds" and background noise. You can listen to the rain, the ocean, a fireplace, crickets, and others.

Given I'm not sleeping well these days, I'm willing to give anything a try.

Then I discovered the video below. Shot in 1931, it's a rare film of Babe Ruth and Lou Gehrig taking batting practice (the caption says it was filmed in Brooklyn). The sound is so pure. There's crowd noise and some chatter in the background. There's the sound of the ball hitting the catchers glove.

Most of all, there is the wonderful sound of the crack of the bat.

The easy joke is to say that baseball can put someone to sleep, but this is more than that. This is the joy of the sounds of the game. It's the perfect background noise. It relaxes and thrills.

There is actually a crowd noise option (also known as a "skill") on Alexa, but it's nothing like this.

This is among the most glorious sounds I know.

Sleepy Sunday

Back at the Darien Ice House (formerly "Rink") for the first time since 2/24/16

A good run of games pushes me into a happy exhaustion.

Yet if I was needed today, I'd be right back on the air. It's the life of a play-by-play voice (or, really, any journalist/broadcaster).

When it's going right, I feel confident. The rush of a streak of games keeps me going, so sitting home for a day while games are going on makes me feel useless.

As I've said time after time, I feel honored to call these games. I feel a duty. I was the voice for two more FCIAC championships this week, and I expect to call two more before the end of next Saturday. Then I'll roll into the girls hockey state tournament. I wish I was part of the "Run to the Sun" or Ingalls Rink, but there's nothing I can do.

Still, I'm hopeful for more. Lots more. Don't be fooled: things aren't financially better yet.

So back to last night and our hockey doubleheader. A huge shoutout to Paul Silverfarb for riding shotgun on both games yesterday. As I've said many times, chemistry is everything in a booth. Paul and I are friends, and we work well together.

That's the key to this. Be it Paul, Chris Erway, Chris Kaelin, Jake Zimmer, Mick, Harold, and others, these are the guys I know I can trust. They've got my back in the booth.

I've worked with people I've literally never met until minutes before air time. It's worked, but it's still always a worry. Will they understand my cadence? Will they play along with my sense of humor? Do they really know when to talk and when not to talk? Do they know what to say? How is their integrity? Are they biased?

I'd never called a game with John Nash (fellow #Project365 er), but we're friends so I could tell how it would go, and it's worked just fine.

Joe Early jumped on a couple of times and, again, I knew it would work. I have a sense of it.

Last spring, I called the Brunswick/Hopkins FAA baseball championship. As I take every call very seriously, working with someone I've never met can be nerve-wracking. Working with someone I've never met for a championship/playoff game can really rattle me. The stakes are especially high, as there are people who actually look to replay those broadcasts for years to come.

Brunswick and Hopkins co-produced the broadcast, so the Hilltoppers asked to add an analyst. Fortunately, it worked.

Another time, I was to call the girls FCIAC volleyball championship. Here's the thing: I'd never called volleyball. Then I found out I was getting an analyst I've never met.

Enter Matt Narwold. Bingo. He was perfect.

Sometimes there are mixed results.

Anyway, I'm sort of babbling on this day in which I have little energy.

Unless I had a game to call. Then I would get to work.

Exhaustion be damned.

Sean at 17

Oct 2004

They looked at the screen.

"You're having a boy," they said.

Wow. A son. The whole "keep the family name alive" thing.

He needed a name. "Sam" sounded good, save for one problem.

Sam. Adams.

Nope.

I couldn't do it.

Then "Sean" came into my brain. No bad connotations there. I had friends in Sean Kilkelly and Sean Ford, among others. There was already a Sean Adams on WCBS Radio.

Yes. "Sean." That would do quite nicely.

"Robert" was going to be the middle name all along, as I wanted to honor my dad.

So Sean Robert it was, and he came into the world early on a Saturday morning.

In fact, I had a rare night off from broadcasting games and had just gone to bed when I was told to get up. He joined us a little after 7:00 a.m.

I beamed with pride walking with him through the hospital. It was no secret we were going to be quite the duo.

May 2009

My work schedule at that time allowed me to stay home with him, so we had our routine of breakfast while I worked on radio stuff from home. Then I'd take him to his grandmother and get going with another round of games.

Our bond grew, as expected.

As a boy, he was a ham, with a wonderful smile and an easy laugh. There were behavioral hiccups, but I've seen worse. He's human.

Is he going to Harvard? No -- it wouldn't be his thing anyway.

Is he going into sports? Good god, no. I'd be shocked. Sports is definitely not his thing, and as I've said many times, I'm OK with that.

Sean figures things out on his time, in his way.

He's quite the man. Very grounded, still funny, loves puns, still laughs and smiles, but there's a world-weariness now that I worry has come from life experiences. That's, of course, something that I'll feel responsible for, though I've shielded him from a lot, and let him see reality when needed.

He has my tendency to be snarky and sarcastic. Quick-witted for sure. There's no doubt about that. But he's still a largely optimistic guy.

Most agree that he's a younger version of me, for what that's worth.

He might not open up and talk to everyone, but we still have that relationship where everything is on the table.

We look out for each other, and regardless of who you are, you're best to not mess with us.

He's developing political thoughts and a fine moral compass.

He told me last night he has no interest in tattoos or piercings of any kind. Feels he could regret them one day. Smoking? Drugs? Drinking?

No. No. No. So he says, and I believe him.

The truth is, sometimes I want to see him "live" a little more, just to get out. But he's happy with who he is and what he is. He's happy with his circle of friends, most notably Chris (whom I've never met and is just a voice on the phone) and Will ("the Thrill"). It's hard to complain about that.

If you've followed this blog or any of my social media, you know what a huge role he has played in my life. I can think of very few others whom I talk about nearly as much (I sometimes feel guilty for that, but when I love someone, I blab about them).

So you probably know a ton about him. My listeners know a lot about him also, and he used to be a presence at a lot of those games that I called.

He's taller than I am now (he loves that). He makes me proud every day.

We're as close as ever, and he doesn't seem to want to push "his old man" away. There's a natural space between us, and that's good. Yet when I asked about going away this summer, he quickly said, "Heck yeah I'm going!"

Of course, I'll always lament that lost time of the past 10 years when he moved to a different school district. However, it didn't hurt our relationship or even really change it. I think we would have always been like this.

I have to go broadcast two hockey games today. Greenwich and New Canaan girls play at 4:00 for the FCIAC Championship, and the Cardinals and Rams boys teams meet at 7:30 in an FCIAC quarterfinal game.

When I asked him if he was OK with that, he shrugged and said, "Sure." No hesitation.

He'll stay home and do his computer thing, and appear when he needs food or to pet Chico (the very large cat).

Happy birthday, Sean. Through countless hugs, tickles, laughs, tears, "I love yous," and miles, you've been everything I could want from a child.

A son.

And at this point, a man.

Miraculous

Credit: Getty Images

Al Michaels didn't plan it.

It was Feb. 22, 1980 and Al Michaels was on the call of his career. Oh he didn't expect it to be. He didn't think it would be the game that changed his life.

He thought the game would be a blowout.

Michaels had already worked with Chick Hearn in Los Angeles (but Hearn didn't like him), and called minor league baseball in Hawaii, as well as football and basketball for the University of Hawaii.

He was even an actor on an episode of Hawaii Five-O.

By 1971, he was with the Cincinnati Reds and was part of NBC's World Series broadcast team in 1972, at the age of 27.

He would soon ascend to ABC for baseball, college sports, and more.

He loved hockey, but was limited on experience, having called just one game professionally, in the 1972 Winter Olympics in Sapporo, Japan. Michaels called the Soviet Union vs. Czechoslovakia game on NBC.

That gave him one more hockey game than virtually the rest of the ABC sports roster as they descended upon Lake Placid, NY in 1980.

Michaels, of course, would go on to call the "Miracle on Ice" on Feb. 22, 1980. But he didn't plan to say the word "miracle."

After all, how could he? How could anyone?

The Soviet Union, the dominant team coming into the Olympics, had just routed the United States, 10-3, at Madison Square Garden on Feb. 9.

But something strange happened with the scrappy collection of college kids, coached by Herb Brooks (and not Kurt Russell, who played Brooks in the movie Miracle). The Americans scratched for two first period goals against the unstoppable USSR goalie, Vladislav Tretiak.

When the second period began, Tretiak was gone, having been benched. The game changed.

Mike Eruzione scored the game-winner with 10 minutes left in the third period.

From there, the US held on for dear life as goalie Jim Craig made 36 saves in the win.

In the booth, Michaels and parter Ken Dryden watched in amazement as it unfolded. Michaels noted earlier in the game that the crowd was subdued, but as time wound down, he said that crowd was "going insane."

Still, there was no way he could manufacture the "miracle" line.

However, he had a word in his mind, and it was indeed "miraculous."

You see, as as play-by-play announcers, what we do can't be scripted. It needs to be natural. Oh sure, a word or concept might creep into the mind, but it still can't be rehearsed. It needs to be -- it MUST be -- ad-libbed.

So while "miraculous" was in Michaels' brain, he still had to utter it.

"11 seconds, you've got 10 seconds, the countdown going on right now! Morrow, up to Silk. Five seconds left in the game. Do you believe in miracles? YES!"



Dryden could only say "unbelievable."

And that it was. The "miracle" call entered the lexicon of sports sayings, as is arguably the most famous call in history, standing up with "The Giants win the pennant!" and literally everything that Vin Scully has ever said*.

*It's my blog. I can say that. But consider the Koufax perfect game, the Mookie Wilson grounder, and the Kirk Gibson home run. He's Vin.

As many know, the miracle game wasn't broadcast live, and Michaels still had another game to call that night, so he had no idea how the US/USSR game impacted the world until he left the arena.

As many often forget, the US did not win the gold medal until they beat Finland 4-2 two days later. Michaels punctuated the moment.

"This impossible dream comes true!"

Peter Tork and the FCIAC Championship

Peter Tork. Photo credit: Getty

That's Peter Tork of The Monkees in that picture. We'll get to him in a moment.

*****
I called the FCIAC girls basketball championship tonight.

In a low-scoring affair, Norwalk held on for a 32-29 win. It was a good game that felt like it lacked a signature moment. Still, it came down to the last shot, and you can't ask for anything more than that.

This is what the last shot sounded like.


Check this out on Chirbit

I'm on to girls hockey on Saturday, as Greenwich and New Canaan meet for the championship. It's a game I've already seen, since the two played in the Winter Classic at the Greenwich Skating Club in December. In fact, the teams have met twice, with each team winning once 3-2.

The Cardinals will go for a third straight FCIAC title Saturday at 4pm. Watch it on Fairfield.live.

*****
Now back to Peter Tork, who died earlier today.

I realize, to some, a musician from a band created for a TV show in the 1960's seems a bit much to mourn. But I don't.

Tork was -- at least to me -- the George Harrison of The Monkees. Despite what you might think of the show (it was actually quite brilliant for its brief run), the music is nothing short of outstanding.

Let's get it clear: they weren't The Beatles. Facts are 1) Who is? and 2) They didn't need to be.

Their songs, be it the work of others or themselves, made timeless hits on the pop charts and other deeper cuts that stand up on their own.

Tork was probably the best pure musician of the band, though fans of Mike Nesmith might take offense to that (and none is intended, as I also think "Papa Nez" is fantastic).

It's a difficult thing for some to deal with. These are people we'll likely never know. We might get a chance to meet (or interview) them at best. So, to some, how dare we mourn them? They're people. Just like us, right?

We mourn their passing. Sure. But we also mourn our own loss. Peter Tork takes us back to being a kid and watching The Monkees, while learning the music of The Monkees.

We go back to innocence, and passing that knowledge onto a new generation of fans.

I like The Monkees, and I feel for the fans who mourned today. I certainly feel for Susan, who is the most knowledgeable Monkees fan I know. I know she's sad today, and she's actually the best source to write about him today. I'm doing so in her honor.

We're so fortunate that we have the TV shows and the music to remember him (and Davy Jones, who died in 2012).

Here we come walking down the street...  

(I'm not posting that song, but one Peter's best -- though he admittedly did not write it. It's still a great performance)

The End Was Near

The message of Feb. 20, 1971

It was Saturday, Feb 20, 1971.

Richard Nixon was in the White House and The Beatles officially broke up the year before.

"One Bad Apple" by The Osmonds was the number one song (dear God). The Baltimore Orioles were the reigning baseball World Series champions, while the Colts had won won Super Bowl V a month earlier.

And the world nearly ended. Or at least those listening to radio or watching TV might have thought that.

No. Make that "MUST have thought that."

We have a system for broadcasting "in the case of an ACTUAL emergency," as you've know doubt heard over the years. We now call it the Emergency Alert System.

In 1971, it was the Emergency Broadcast System, and a major mistake caused "War of the Worlds" -like panic.

At 9:33 that morning, NORAD teletype operator W. S. Eberhardt sent the wrong tape over the EBS to over 2,500 radio and television stations in the United States. Eberhardt had access to three tapes: a test and two tapes that delivered actual emergency messages.

Incidentally, I can't seem to find what happened to poor Mr. Eberhardt.

The alert, as it said in the picture above:
*****

MESSAGE AUTHENTICATOR: HATEFULNESS/HATEFULNESS

THIS IS AN EMERGENCY ACTION NOTIFICATION (EAN) DIRECTED BY THE PRESIDENT. NORMAL BROADCASTING WILL CEASE IMMEDIATELY. ALL STATIONS WILL BROADCAST EAN MESSAGE ONE PRECEDED BY THE ATTENTION SIGNAL, PER FCC RULES. ONLY STATIONS HOLDING NDEA MAY STAY ON AIR IN ACCORD WITH THEIR STATE EBS PLAN.

BROADCAST EAN MESSAGE ONE.

MESSAGE AUTHENTICATOR: HATEFULNESS/HATEFULNESS

*****

The tape Eberhardt used, with the code word "HATEFULNESS," instructed stations to cease broadcasting immediately and begin and Emergency Action Notification (EAN) using Message #1. The message indicated that there were not other specifics, but the alert was at the direction of the US Government.

Six cancellation messages were attempted over the next 40 minutes, but each time they failed due to the use of the wrong code word or improper protocols. Finally, at 10:13 a.m., the code word "IMPISH" came across and the alert was canceled.

Many radio stations actually ignored the alert due to it being sent at the time that a regularly-scheduled test was to be delivered. Other broadcasters didn't have EAN protocols in place.

We are fortunate in that there are two examples of what radio stations did that morning exist on the internet. Radio station WOWO in Fort Wayne, IN had a befuddled, yet calm and authoritative Bob Sievers on the air. Later in this recording, WCCO of Minneapolis/St. Paul also exhibits a necessary level of calm. I'd like to believe I'd be able to do the same.



While we've fortunately never had to activate the system for the most dreaded of national emergencies, there are still uses for the system in terms of local warnings for things such as weather alerts.

The cell phone alert that snapped Hawaii to life on Jan 13, 2018

There have been subsequent false alarms, such as the alert on Jan 13, 2018 when residents of Hawaii were alarmed with the news of a imminent ballistic missile strike. In fact, I remember that quite well, as a friend of mine posted that news on Facebook.  Essentially, he posted words along the lines of: "I don't know what's going to happen, but if this is goodbye..."

Some 38 minutes later, that report turned out to be false.

Thankfully.

Watch how they saw it in Hawaii on CBS.



(UPDATE!) One more, thanks to AJ Szymanowski. While not the same, I thought of the day President Ronald Reagan joked into an open microphone about bombing Russia. Reagan was preparing to deliver his weekly radio address on Aug 11, 1984 when he joked with engineers during soundcheck. However, the feed went to stations who were already rolling tape. The inadvertent comments came across, but they were not broadcast live. Still, it was something to hear.

I thought about using it in this post, and when AJ tweeted a similar note to me, I decided to come back and add it. Thanks, AJ.

Not Much Here Tonight

The glamorous life. My setup at Trumbull High School

I just got home from calling the FCIAC girls basketball semifinals.

The broadcasts went as well as could be expected. We found space in the Trumbull High School gym (shout out to athletic director Mike King for making it happen).

I dug into my bag of tricks and ran 100 foot of microphone cable to go from my setup to Keith, running the camera for Local Live (Fairfield.live). I taped down power so that nobody tripped.

I crawled under bleachers to get the mic cable out of the way.

This is basically what we do for every game. We just make it happen. There's no crew (most of the time) to do it for me. It's a labor of love. I did what I always do.

Then I ran my mouth for three hours or so.

I think it's unlikely to happen (bad weather is on the way), but we could do it again tomorrow for the FCIAC girls hockey semis.

I've got the call of the girls basketball final on Thursday between Norwalk and Trinity Catholic. The Bears of Norwalk High School have not lost this year. We'll see if Thursday is a coronation.

For what it's worth (that is, nothing), Thursday appears to be my 25th FCIAC championship game broadcast in all sports. Not sure if that's accurate, but it's cool anyway.

Beyond that, I don't have much to say tonight. With my Sirius XM radio gone (I can't afford it -- big shock, I know), I've fully dunked myself into the podcasting pool. I've got five on my mind that I'm immersing myself in. Perhaps that's a post for another night.

Further, I keep playing with the idea of doing one myself. Like the blog, I won't do it unless I can do it right. I have an idea for one that I like. That doesn't mean anyone else will. So it's to be continued.

Barnes and Noble

Photo by Sean B. on Foursquare

I needed to get out.

To be honest, I didn't know where I was going.

I felt the safest place for me was somewhere that would allow me to free my mind.

Barnes and Noble was the place.

Ah, the bookstore. Sadly, the days of Borders (RIP) are over. My goodness, I spent hours -- lunchtimes and more -- in the Borders in White Plains, NY.

Barnes and Noble got plenty of my time also.

But alas, the days of Waldenbooks and, more locally, Book and Record are over.

I know, I know. Amazon. The interwebs. And so on.

You're right.

There was a rhythm to my time in the book (and music) store.

Among the books, I always went to sports (obviously), music/entertainment, travel (especially US travel, because I loved travel narratives), then glanced at biographies.

I perused. I wandered.

I sat. I read.

I stood. I read.

Oh I tore through the music portion of a store for the CD's (or cassette tapes and records). It's where I'd often find great jazz CDs, or any other genre, for that matter.

There isn't a music section at Barnes and Noble any longer. The travel section was OK, save for the book on New York City Radio (it's one of the "Images of America" series that tends to find its way to the travel section).

The music and movies books were boring me.

Shockingly, the sports did also.

Other than the radio book, the only other thing I picked up was an effort breaking down The Beatles' song lyrics. I also own a book like that already, so my mind just never quite got into reading this one.

Maybe I was just too distracted.

Maybe the book store really is in bad shape.

I hope not.