Four. No, wait. Five!

My perch

I thought I was supposed to call four games today.

I even wrote that here a few nights ago.

I finessed my way through four games of hockey, and I don't go halfway on such things. They're called with full energy.

During the fourth game of the day, I said how it was "the last game of the day." Nobody texted me and said, "Er, dude. You know there's one more, right?"

But then, it's not on anyone else, but the guy inside the Phantoms Rink at the Skate Zone in Voorhees, NJ*.

Neither Michael Myers or Jamie Lee Curtis were anywhere to be found.

*Did you know there's a Haddonfield, NJ? Did you know it's a beautiful town, and the Haddonfield in Halloween is based on Haddonfield, NJ? Nor did I  -- until today. Michael Myers for the win!

So I wrapped up the fourth game. My throat was not pleased with me. The honey lemon drops were needed.

Then two more teams hit the ice. I noticed Dan Long, calling games in the Flyers Rink, was still going.

Uh oh. Did I blow it?

I rifled off two quick texts: one to Daquan Cole at Local Live and one to LL colleague John Malone. Both great guys.

Overall, the answer was, "Yes, dummy. Get back on the air."

So I did, called the rest of the fifth game of the day, finished with an overtime winner, and took the headset off.

I literally grabbed the rosters from a pack, learned the teams on the fly, and proceeded with the call. That's what we do. That's why we don't script it. We're prepared to adjust.

I was mortified but had to get the job done.

"Are we done now," I asked Phil from Legacy Global Sports, which puts the tournament on.

"Yes. Did you eat? Go get some food!"

So I did. For what little it's worth, that fifth game was my 100th since the school broadcast year started on September 8 last year. I realize there are those who call more. I hope the quality of what I do -- along with the quantity -- all balances out.

The rink was dark. That's how early I was.

It was a full day, beginning with my arrival a little after 6:30 this morning. I found the rink facility was open and got to work setting up. The Legacy Global Sports crew wasn't there yet, and the rinks were dark!

Dan, I was told, was bringing a headset. That wouldn't do, so I grabbed a backup mixer (because, me) and set him up in the Flyers Rink. Daquan and I got to work just after 7 a.m. doing sound checks both in my rink and Dan's.

Soon all was good.

Then it was onto calling games. I actually got a (roughly) four-hour break and came back to the hotel, where I promptly collapsed for an hour.

I've since come back and edited each audio broadcast.

Game 7 of Blues/Stars is on as I type.

It's almost time for bed.

I was sorry to miss the Brunswick baseball game (and another one tomorrow), but this has been a great opportunity.

Instead of two games (one semi and one championship), I now have three games (one semi and two championships).

I'll crown the Under 15 and Under 16 titles tomorrow.

I don't take these honors lightly, so I'll talk to you then.

It's Late

Home sweet home for the next two nights

I picked up a rental car, called baseball at Brunswick, and am now in my hotel room in Cherry Hill, NJ.

I've already been to the rink and checked out the facilities. Everything looks good there. I think I'll be working the "Phantoms Rink" tomorrow and will be in the "Flyers Rink" on Wednesday.

Have I mentioned I love to drive? Like, love it? I don't mean commuting, but a road trip.

That's a babble for another time.

But I'll post this awful picture from dusk as I drove tonight. It's significant to road-types who have waited for Interstate 95 to be complete towards Philadelphia.

Lots of hockey tomorrow and Wednesday.

And Wawa. Already.

See you tomorrow, as time allows.

Ready For Whatever Happens

Well, I am going to Voorhees ... in New Jersey.

My trip to Voorhees, NJ* begins later tomorrow.

*The remarkable Susan (the horror expert) was only too happy to talk about Jason Voorhees of Friday the 13th fame when I told her about the trip to New Jersey. Plus given Camp Crystal Lake from the movie is in New Jersey, the above picture works perfectly fine. Further note: I wouldn't know much about this without knowing her.

So here's what I know about the trip:

I'm supposed to call games beginning at 8 a.m. Tuesday morning at Virtua Center Flyers Skate Zone at Voorhees. Basically, I'll call any moment of action that occurs in that rink (known as "Flyers Side").

I'll also call one semifinal on Wednesday morning before handling the championship Wednesday at 2 p.m.

Basically, that's about it.

There are always unknown issues when heading to a facility that I've never worked in.

Where will I set up? Where's my nearest power outlet? How much extension cord do I need? Do I need to tape things down? Is there a table I can use? A chair? Is there a program? Will I need a credential? Will I get grief trying to get in and out of the arena?  Does the arena even know that I'll be there? Where am I supposed to plug in my audio controls to sync with the video?

Is there a PA announcer? Can I set up a wireless microphone near the PA or a speaker to hear their announcements? How will my view of the rink be? Will I have fans surrounding me?

Will food be available? Are there any media accommodations (food/drink/etc)? Where's the nearest restroom?

Will there be wifi or a hardline internet setup?

How early can I get in to set up? Is there any way for me to print things (either at the rink or at my hotel)? For that matter, what hotel am I heading to? What name is the reservation under? Should I bring a blanket and be ready to sleep in the car?

(I'm kidding about most of that paragraph)

In the play-by-play world, adapting to change and being ready for anything is crucial. This is especially true at levels below the pros Div I of college sports.

And sometimes there also.

The truth is, after all these years, I'm used to this. I expect the worst and hope for the best. I prepare as best as I can in terms of equipment, notes, pens, etc. But as you can see, a lot is out of my control.

So I hope to finish calling Poly Prep/Brunswick tomorrow and hit the road to the hotel, with hopefully a chance to look into the rink as well.

All of the answers will come together in due time. There's no need to panic yet, though I do need the answer to the most important question...

Where's the nearest Wawa?

Answer: there are three within 10 minutes of the rink.

The nearest Waffle House in 57 minutes away, in Maryland.

Use this link to purchase access to the broadcasts.

A Couple of Sports Notes

Excitement at the Finish Line store in the Poughkeepsie Galleria at 8 a.m.

Just another crazy day.

The Marvelous Mr. Sean Adams opened the day by taking the SAT this morning in Wappingers Falls, NY. His father (me) was up early (there's a shock) to have him at RC Ketcham High School before 8 a.m.

However, I saw no point in going back to Mahopac, so I amused myself at Target...sitting in my car...walking around Dick's Sporting Goods...a few laps around the Poughkeepsie Galleria (including before the mall actually opened)...a trip to Goodwill (I got an electronic component switch for $3)...and back to Ketcham, where I napped in the parking lot.

But let's get to sports. We start with the Kentucky Derby.

No, really. What in the hell happened.

I had people all into it. After making picks on The Clubhouse on Wednesday, I had a son, mother, and niece into making predictions and watching the race.

We all at dinner in the living room to make sure we were near the TV.

Then Stephanie's (my niece) predicted horse won.

Then he didn't.

Just astounding. The more I read and understand, the more it seems like the right decision has been made. But, wow.

But I also want to talk about how stupid fans are.

I was watching the Yankees game today, and J.A. Happ didn't have his best stuff. He battled into the sixth and left trailing 4-0. I heard what sounded like boos on TV when Happ was pulled from the game.

I was angry (run down from frustrations with my tractor and getting the law mowed didn't help), so I tweeted this:

I'd like one #Yankees fan to explain to me why they booed Happ just now. Because you can? Because you expect perfection? It's a joke -- regardless of team. Be better than that.

— Rob Adams (@double5) May 4, 2019

I figured I was ripe for grief. There was only one response.

Excuse me but, we can boo whoever we want

— Nikura4GB (@astrossuck69) May 4, 2019

Why yes, "Nik" (hope you're OK with that name) you're entitled to do a lot of things. You can wear a pinstripe jersey with a player name on the back in you want.

I didn't tell you otherwise. But...I have a right to say what I said.

That being said, you never explained, so why respond to me. Why -- if it's your team -- do you boo player?  Do you honestly think they're not doing their best on the field? Is it about a player's salary? Is there some other nonsensical reason?

I've never understood it. The player is on the team you root for!

So, again, I ask: Why?

Maybe this time you can explain it.

So you boo simply because you can? Brilliant! I never thought of that.

Then we wonder why the world hates us. (I mean, there's jealousy, but still)

Every fan base has idiots like this, who think that booing players is the answer.

I don't. To be crystal clear. Especially players who are obviously trying.

So I'm serious. Why do you boo players on your team?

World Selects Championship

I'm pleased to announce (and I hinted at it earlier in the week) that I've been asked to call the 2019 World Selects Invitational hockey tournament outside of Philadelphia next week.

It's the second year in a row that I'll be on the call of the championship, but my role has increased for this year.

Last year, I called a semifinal game and the championship from the Local Live studio in Stamford.

There were certainly advantages to doing so, including the comfort of a quiet studio and staying home. However the feel of being there is gone, and it was tough to get a feel for the crowd and other nuances.

I'm sure this will come as no surprise to anyone, I always prefer to be on-site.

Trust me, I'm grateful for any call. But being there is a whole different world. I wouldn't have complained either way, as it's an honor to be asked back, but I'm happy for the chance to head to Voorhees, New Jersey.

Oh, there are certainly things to consider, like where the "booth" will be and so on, but we'll cross that as we get closer.

Local Live has offered to let me stay down there, so I'll leave following my call of Poly Prep/Brunswick on Monday and drive down to the hotel to settle in for the night before a day full of games on Tuesday. The tournament actually begins tomorrow, but I'll be there for some of the quarters, as well as a semifinal game and the championship.

I'll provide more details, including where to watch/listen, as things get closer.

I hope you'll follow along for this world championship.

What Did I Just Listen To?

The classic lineup, circa 1984: Sean, Mario, Johnny, HL, Bill, Chris

I accept that most people don't see Huey Lewis and the News as a legendary band.

Some see them as a nice little '80s band.

Some actually dislike them.

Trust me, hearing them on the radio or streaming service is, at best, rare.

So most of the time, I'll take any attention to them as a good thing.

So then I saw this from Spin. It's a link to a cover of "The Power of Love," the 1985 song from the Back to the Future soundtrack.

Performed by Mark Kozelek and Sun Kil Moon, with guest singer and violinist Petra Haden, this take on the song is nothing like I've ever heard.

Gone is every touch of the '80s. Sean Hopper's keyboard style is nowhere to be found. Chris Hayes' jazz-infused guitar solo isn't around either.

The fire of the 1985 Academy Award-nominated track (I'm still bitter, so let's not discuss it) has been replaced by a quiet, subdued coffee-house track.

It's interesting. I'm still not sure how I feel about it.

Unfortunately, I can't find the track to embed it, so you'll have to go to Spin to hear it.

No question, the original can't be topped (in my opinion). Yet that being said, this is a whole new song.

Still ... I have to hear the original. Here it is, in glorious video form, as filmed at Uncle Charlie's, the place where they started north of San Francisco.

Finally Home

Just some of the attendees, which totaled upwards of 450 people.

I didn't sleep great last night and was up a little after 4 a.m.

I was out the door around 5:15 a.m.

A train took me into New York City and I was where I needed to be around 7 a.m.

By 8:30, I was "on," serving as the moderator for the Private Equity Recruiting conference at the Harvard Club in New York for Hunt Scanlon.

Pretty weird to be on that agenda.

Moderating means serving as a face and a voice of the event. I'm the one facing the crowd all day. I have to read the carefully crafted words that have been assembled for me to say, but I also have to keep the event on time all day.

It's a lot, but it's nothing compared to what the Hunt Scanlon crew does. I admire it greatly. Each one of those guys is a friend, and great to work with.

The reviews were humbling, to be honest, and much appreciated. Among some of the comments:

"Your voice is so soothing. You should be a golf broadcaster."
"Is he an actor?" (Yes, this was seriously said)

Anyway, a little after 4:45 p.m., I posed for a group photo and departed.

The trusty podium

Another train took me back to Mount Kisco, where I found my car. Then I went to Grand Prix New York for The Clubhouse.

I was there in plenty of time for the show. Then we had dinner, talked shop, and I drove home.

Oh, wait. Chico the very large gray cat needed food. So there was a grocery store stop to be made.

Then I drove home.

And here I am now.

Finally.

I hope I actually sleep.

See you tomorrow.

Completely worn out on the train back to Mount Kisco.

A Busy Wednesday

One of my stops tomorrow (Photo courtesy Flickr)

Hi, all.

Forgive the short post tonight, as I have found a few minutes between items to do.

I called Hamden Hall and Brunswick today in a big baseball contest in the FAA.

I archived it and went to WGCH to leave a computer for tomorrow night's Clubhouse show (7 p.m.).

Then I went to Mount Kisco, because that's where The Clubhouse takes place and I need a place to park my car tomorrow. I'm heading into New York City for the day and wanted to make sure finding parking would be easy in the morning.

I'll be up and out early tomorrow morning to go to New York because I'm the moderator for a Hunt-Scanlon Conference. I get to do this a few times a year and it's a very enjoyable day.

Then I have to get the train back to Mount Kisco to join The Clubhouse broadcast at Grand Prix New York.

Then I'll get the computer back.

Then I'll go home and (hopefully) sleep.

Thursday and Friday await.

Watch this space for some more interesting news. Not Earth-shattering, but interesting nonetheless.

Better Late Than Never

Proud

I played baseball in Mahopac for the Mahopac Sports Association from 1977-1987.

Other than bowling, I didn't play sports at Mahopac High School.

But when it came time to get my class ring, I elected to have a baseball player engraved on one side. As much as I loved being the captain of the bowling team -- and I'm still very proud of that -- I knew that I most-identified with baseball as a sport.

As teenagers are wont to do, I got mocked for doing so. Who was I to put baseball on my ring? I wasn't on the team. To be very clear, I didn't imply that I played baseball at MHS. It was just a baseball player figure.

Still, me being me, it bothered me. Maybe I shouldn't have done it. I wasn't trying to misrepresent anything.

Thirty-one years later, I finally began a relationship with Mahopac High School baseball when I called a few of their games on Robcasting Radio. I carried that into 2019.

Today, for the first time, I called a road game as the Indians played the Somers Tuskers. At the game, head coach Myckie Lugbauer presented me with a Mahopac Baseball Under Amour hoodie.

I can't stress just how happy I was to receive it, and how proud I'll be to wear it.

This is to take nothing away from my Mahopac Hockey hoodie, but hockey wasn't a thing at Mahopac when I went to school there.

I wanted to play baseball. I went out for the sport as a freshman (same with football) and didn't make it (ditto).

I never went back. I got talked out of it.

I'm not a part of Mahopac baseball now. I'm not at practices. I'm not a coach. I don't ride the bus. I don't sit in the dugout. I don't know the players.

But I do know the coaches, and I consider them friends. They've allowed me to be a part of their team, if even only from a distance. They've closed their door and trusted me in the way that other coaches have.

And I guess I'm maybe the...er...Mahopac baseball broadcaster.

It's been a wonderful experience. One that I'm grateful for.

I texted a picture of me wearing the hoodie to a friend.

"That one is special, I bet," came the reply.

"Indescribably," I said.

So maybe, over 30 years later, I've earned the right to have a Mahopac baseball logo on me.

*****

No matter what, I tell broadcasters to stay true to the craft. The game will always be the thing. It's not about the cute one-liners or anything else. It's the game.

Above all else, getting that game on the air is what matters.

I pulled into Somers a good 90 minutes before first pitch. I waited for the Somers AD to help get me electrical access before it seemed like it wasn't going to happen. So I went on about my business. I gathered lineups from both coaches, picked up my hoodie from the Mahopac coaches, and went back to the right field corner.

I scrawled down the lineups and prepared a backup system to call the game off my cell phone.

Then the AD showed up. The first pitch was thrown while we ran the power. I kept a mental scorecard and caught up as I set up. I was finally on the air with two out in the bottom of the first.

My view was unique.

Who cares? I was there. The game got on the air. And other than my telling the stories, nobody knew or cared.

Some of my brethren get so high and mighty about this (and other things). I had to call a game well over in foul territory in right field. Friends said I was in the "Uecker seats."

I was there. That was the best we could do. Somers was nice enough to have me there and help me.

Sometimes we have to manage our expectations. The perfectionist in me wanted to be on the air for first pitch. The listener just wanted the broadcast. All we can do is be honest and explain.

I called the game, did my best, and went home.

It's not about us.

It's about the game.

Mahopac lost 2-0. I'm likely no longer a good luck charm.

On The Podcast

I realize I have not produced my podcast in a few weeks. I'm sorry for the few who care.

I actually starting recording a new one a few weeks ago -- without a script -- and I just wasn't happy with it.

So we're in a bit of a podcast lull, I guess.

I'll get back to it. Inspiration will hit and I'll crank some shows out.

For one thing, I have to do what makes me happy, given few people listen to it, and it's not intended to make money.

So if I want to work off a script, I will.

If I want to ad-lib, I'll do that also.

If I want to talk to Mike Hirn, Phil Giubileo, Paul Silverfarb, or any of the other good people who have volunteered to come on, I will.

If I want to drop in a Doubleheader-style episode or play an interview from my archive, well, you get the idea.

I have to remember that, first, it's my project, so I have to be happy doing it.

It's the same as the blog or even Robacsting.

As this is not a job, then it should be a release for me. It should be a joy for me.

Then, hopefully, it becomes enjoyable for you.

Then we can tweak it.

But I needed to remind myself that it's OK to be a little selfish.

I hope that's OK.

*****
Staying in sports broadcasting (as that's what the podcast is supposed to be about), I came across an article about Vin Scully's movie appearances. Of course, his most famous is in For Love of the Game, where he was absolutely magnificent as the (unscripted) play-by-play announcer. I couldn't find his quote at the end of the move, but this is pretty eloquent.


But that's not why I'm talking about Vin. Every now and then I stumble onto something I've actually never seen, and the article in question from the LA Times led me to one. The movie was called Wake Me When It's Over, and it's from 1960. Our Vinny is listed in the credits as "CBS Reporter," and the scene is actually online (though recorded off TV).

The Natural

It's one of those nights when TV has a few options.

I'm certainly into the NHL Stanley Cup Playoffs and am keeping a close eye on the Blue Jackets/Bruins game. I respect the Bruins (the one Boston team that I sort of like), and Greenwich's own Cam Atkinson plays for Columbus.

But I also spotted that The Natural is on. So I'm switching between breaks in hockey.

My God. That movie.

The thing is, we've had a little bit of a history between us, The Natural and I have.

I first saw it on our Panasonic VCR in probably late 1984 or early 1985. Yes, that means I did not see it in the theater. To be honest, I still don't remember why.

But I was soon mesmerized by the story of Roy Hobbs, a one-time baseball prospect who meets a strange fate with a mysterious woman, only to reappear out of nowhere as a power-hitting outfielder.

OK, the movie is flawed. So so so so so flawed. There are references aplenty to other baseball moments, with an imitation Babe Ruth just part of the mix.

(I suppose I should state here that there are spoilers ahead, so proceed with caution)

But it is also the magic and mythicism of baseball. It's about the flaws of humanity. The very highs and lows of life, with baseball serving as the definitive star.

So yes, I loved it. Especially when I first saw it.

Then I read the book.

I know. The book is different than the movie. But I guess this is the first time it had ever happened to me. The book blew me away. It was fantastic.

And nearly completely different from the movie.

So I've come to treat them as two different entities, in the way that some try to view The Shining. I realize The Shining is likely light years better than The Natural, but The Natural is very much me.

It takes place in 1939. Babe Ruth has only just retired four years earlier. Lou Gehrig will let the world know how lucky he is that summer. Joe DiMaggio is dominating. Ted Williams is only beginning to show his greatness.

Baseball was America at that point.

We're not in war yet, and we're working our way out of The Great Depression.

The movie is an enormous fantasy. It's not gritty like Major League or Bang The Drum Slowly.  It's not Field of Dreams (another movie I have a strange relationship with).  It's not The Bad News Bears.

It still produces a strong emotion when Hobbs, played by then-46-year-old Robert Redford (who could have also played Mickey Mantle if he wanted to) strolls to the plate in the ninth inning of the playoff game with the Pirates.

Randy Newman works our hearts with that fairly-iconic music.

And then? Goodbye, Mr. Spaulding.



Even the cynic in me suspends reality for a moment to deal with how ludicrously over-the-top the whole thing is.

But the romanticism of it all works. Those uniforms (I still want one). The old stadium (using Buffalo's now-gone War Memorial Stadium). The use of the radio announcer, calling the play-by-play serving as a narrator, but also adding to the nostalgic feeling.

Then I read the book and felt like I had been punched in the gut.

Say it ain't so, author Bernard Malamud.

That magic moment isn't so magical after all. It reads like the NCAA has a say in the aftermath.

*****
In the movie, there's the moment where Roy is in the hospital, and he allows himself a pause to look at his beloved Iris and let his emotion flow, if only briefly.

"I wish Dad could have...," Roy says, his thoughts trailing off.

"God I love baseball."

Wow.

Indeed. I love this game.

By the way, the Yankees won their fourth straight World Series in 1939.

That's baseball for ya.

Bridezilla

This picture is a gift that will keep on giving

Let me start by saying bachelor/bachelorette parties have become stupid.

Sorry. But I've said it.

Yes, I was married once. My "bachelor party" was at my brother's house. He brought in food, as I recall. People made fun of me, we laughed, and it was over.

By certain (OK, most) conventions, that would be lame. Sure, I'd take a day of golf, or a ballgame, or (frankly) nothing.

I realize I sound like I'm "a drag at parties."

I probably am.

Anyway, I'm seriously burying the lede.

You've probably seen the outrage by bachelorettes in Nashville over the NFL Draft being held in Music City this weekend.

Because, you know, events happen in big cities. I mean, call me crazy.

I also have a tendency to check events when I travel.

But Nashville has become "Bachelorette City" also.

Which probably means I'll never go to Nashville, so OK.

“We come here to listen to country music, not hang out with football boys,” bride Cara said, according to the story.

They better not go to Vegas, like, ever.

Especially not next year, when the draft will be held there.

Havlicek Stole The Ball

(USA Today)

I don't have a lot tonight.

I could have gone with the NFL draft. But, yawn.

Then I saw the news break that John Havlicek has died.

Obviously, I immediately thought of the late Johnny Most, who made the famous call from Game 7 of the 1965 Eastern Conference Finals.


"Hondo" was an all-time great Celtic, whose number was retired and remained revered in Boston. The Celtics held on to win the game, 110-109.

They knocked off the Lakers in five to win the NBA title.

A legendary career.

RIP, Hondo.

Top 10 New York Yankees Pitchers

Getty Images

Somebody asked on Twitter tonight if CC Sabathia is a top-10 pitcher in Yankees history.

Hmm...well, let's find out.

1) Mariano Rivera. Seriously, is that one hard to argue?

2) Whitey Ford. He sort of wrote the Yankees' pitching record book, as well as the World Series record book.

3) Red Ruffing. A Hall of Famer. If WAR is your thing, he's fifth all-time in Bombers' history with 46.5. Won 231 games, which is second all-time. Also a World Series champion.

4) Lefty Gomez. Somewhat interchangeable with Ruffing.

5) Ron Guidry. Gator's biggest mistake is that he didn't become an impact pitcher until he was 26. Then he put together one of the finest seasons ever seen by a pitcher (1978: 25-3, 1.74 ERA, 16 complete games, 9 shutouts).

6) Mel Stottlemyre. If you don't include him in a top-10, it's simply because you're ignoring him. Those were mostly bad Yankees teams, but Mel was a bright spot.

7) Andy Pettitte. Yes, I've gotten down to 7th before including Andrew Eugene. Too many items to discuss with him. Yes, the steroids. Got it. But the cap pulled down over the eyes meant it was about to be a long night for someone.

8) CC Sabathia. So here he is. Not top 10-in wins, but seventh in games started and fourth in strikeouts. Certainly a big part of the 2009 championship. This might be too high, but as I sit here (and he pursues 3,000 career K's), I was truly curious if he's top-10. At first glance, he is.

9) Goose Gossage. I realize George Brett made his life (and mine) miserable. But man was Goose good. I realize Dave Righetti and Sparky Lyle could also lay claims to the next relief ace in Yankees' history. The difference is Goose is in the Hall of Fame. He also has a lower ERA as a Yankee than Mo.

10) Waite Hoyt. Look, the 1927 Yankees weren't just offense. Murderers Row also had arms. Hoyt is ninth in WAR, ninth in wins, eighth in innings pitched and games started. In 1927, "Schoolboy" went 22-7 with a 2.63 ERA. He had 23 complete games.

** I realize I could have added Mike Mussina, Vic Raschi, Allie Reynolds, Bob Shawkey, Herb Pennock, and a lot of others. I don't think the top seven are debatable. I'm still on the fence on CC and Hoyt, but probably not Goose.

Anyway, there's my list. Thanks to Twitter for giving me the idea.

No-Hitter Alert

Joseph Henry of Brunswick (picture courtesy of Brunswick School)

Joseph Henry of Brunswick threw a no-hitter today.

He struck out 11, walked three, hit two, and won 15-0 over St. Luke's of New Canaan.

I was the broadcaster.

As far as I know, it's the fourth no-no I've called, after Chris Visone of Windsor blanked Greenwich in the CIAC playoffs in 2002. The two other no-hitters came in 2015 -- one in softball and one in Babe Ruth baseball.

There are scoring decisions that can impact a game, and then there is the mercy rule. It takes a full game and shortens it based on score limitations.

That's what happened today. Brunswick rolled through the first inning, sending 18 men the plate and scoring 12 runs.

You had a strong suspicion that the game would be over after five.

Simply put, Henry dominated.

Despite hitting the first two batters he faced, he struck out the side in the first. He walked two to lead off another inning and proceeded to shut St. Luke's down again.

I'm not one to talk no-hitter until the middle innings of a game. Oh sure, I'll take note of it mentally, but I see no need to make a big deal about it.

But there would only be five innings in this one, so I needed to make a decision on how to call it.

In the end, I played it low-key. The 15-0 score and five innings impacted that, but I also had a St. Luke's mother who decided to stand just a few feet from me. I'm a firm believer in sportsmanship and not embarrassing anyone. This is high school sports after all.

So I called it straight and saved everything for the postgame.

Joseph was incredible. It's a no-hitter, and that's what matters. Whether it was five, seven, or nine innings, Joseph Henry pitched a no-hitter for Brunswick today, and that can never be taken away from him.

Watch it here.

This Was Bound To Happen

It's April 22.

This is the 112th consecutive post of 2019, along with two at the end of 2018. Obviously, the math isn't that tough.

But I've hit a bit of a wall.

The last two -- three, even -- seem to have missed the mark, and that's OK. The views were fairly low, although that's not why I do this.

Criticism, or even questions about the posts, is fine. That's why we're here.

The last thing I look to do is hurt. Think? Yes. Hurt? No.

I'm not implying that I did, but just taking everything into account makes me wonder if I should just post some pictures, videos, or whatever to keep "the streak" alive. Maybe just take it easy on commentary.

Take a day off, without actually taking a day off.

It worked for Cal Ripken, right?

It might be time for some reflection and, to do so, maybe a Rule 55 stretch is needed.

I'm not doing this for attention, or to beg for the "please keep going" comments.

Anyway, we'll plunge onto tomorrow.

Remember: Keep Smiling!

"I'll deliver the Technicolor hen fruit for ya!"

I know. It's Easter. Passover has just ended.

Faith. Hope.

OK.

Thus the message is short today. It's hard to be so optimistic when looking at the news.

So I'll leave you with two Easter Rabbits in the picture above.

Hoo-RAAAYYYY.

See you tomorrow.

4/20

It's April 20th.

4/20.

Four-twenty.

It apparently began because five high school students in San Rafael, CA met at a statue to smoke pot at 4:20 p.m. and the term spread via High Times magazine (that's the short version of the story).

It then grew into being a counterculture celebration on April 20.

So enjoy, I guess if that's your thing.

It is not mine and has never been.

It may -- or may not -- come as a surprise, but I've never tried it. As in, never.

Not as in the "I never inhaled" bull that now-innocent-looking former President William Jefferson Clinton once said*. Never. Touched. It.

* The Clinton years are just a wee-ol' Camelot now, no?

I'm not here to condemn, though if it's breaking the law in your municipality, well, that's for you to debate with your personal Jesus or whatever.

Obviously, if you hang out in the right world, you get the opportunity to try certain things. I can assure you I've never tried any of it.

I've been offered it (at Yankee Stadium, during a World Series game) and declined.

I had a point, maybe around 30 or so, where I said that maybe I should try it, and a friend immediately shot that down.

"No," he said. "I'm proud of you for never doing it. Stay that way and don't start."

I took the words to heart, and I've had others say it to me as well.

I realize I'm an anomaly in myriad ways. I wasn't trying to figure out how to drink and party in my teens. I'd actually go to a party and tell my parents. They'd tell me to use good judgment and be careful.

Then I'd come home, tell them what happened, and feel good that I didn't let them down.

I get it. I know I come off like a geek or whatever unkind term you want to use. Yet I'm OK with it.

I realize most people in my life have tried it (and inhaled). I also do know a few who have never tried it. Keep in mind I'm also a serious non-smoker.

I also -- frankly -- prefer to not have it in my life. But there are other things that I feel that way about.

I'm no angel. I assure you that.

Anyway, you do you and enjoy.

Fear For deHair

Jacob deGrom, back in his "Fear deHair" days

First, you might want to make sure you're prepared for this one.

Next, I promise I will focus on my team, but given I talk sports, I figure this is likely fair game.

Now. Ready?

I'm bummed about the news on Jacob deGrom.

I'll allow you a moment to compose yourself.

The logic is simple: deGrom is good for baseball. Rivalries are good for sports. When you root for a team, greatness on another team -- rival or otherwise --is the equivalent of a "black hat" in a western.

I loved Johnny Damon on the Yankees. Loved his effort and his style. I also talked to him (briefly) a few years ago and he was great. But I loathed him in Kansas City. Oakland. And, of course, Boston.

I will never be a Mets fan. That's probably safe to say. But my hatred probably isn't quite what you think. Oh, I rooted for the Red Sox in '86, and I won't apologize for it, because my logic was as sound then as it is now (I like history, and the Sox had more history, plus -- at least at that time -- I liked Red Sox fans).

Simply put, the Red Sox were old-time baseball.

The Mets fan has long been the loudmouthed little brother. The funny thing is they don't need to be.

That's it in a nutshell.

I'm not talking about Dave Torromeo or Eric Scholl or even Chris Kaelin (whackadoodle that he might be). It's the ones who "would rather see Al Qaeda win before the Yankees."

Yes. That's a quote. Sad, right?

Anyway, that aside, the news (or potential news) about deGrom is bad. Players like that are fun to watch. They're fun to root against. They're fun to see in person.

Again. Good for the game.

There's no question this is concerning news, as players aren't "sent back to New York" for the laughs of it. Now the question is: how bad?

And what's next?

Plus the Mets aren't known for having the greatest track record with player injuries. Has it gotten better? Probably, but you can understand the panic in Metsies Land.

The Mets fan is viewing this as potentially catastrophic, and with good reason. The early returns from the 2019 season had been largely positive, but they knew that deGrom was their star.

With him out, they continue to beg and plead for a deal with Gio Gonzalez (about to become a former Yankee without ever joining the big club) and Dallas Keuchel, the free agent who continues to wait for a big deal and doesn't have one for some completely logical reason.

The story will be interesting to watch, but one thing is for sure: deGrom needs to get well soon.

Then he can return for one of the oh-so-painful Subway Series farces, in which the "rival" Yankees can greet him rudely.

Such is sports.

*****
By the way, what is the Mets fans' obsession with the Washington Nationals? Shouldn't the Phillies be a bigger concern right now? See, the Mets fan is constantly reminding the Nats that they've never won a playoff series. Which, OK and all, but it's not like there's this incredible success in Queens either.

It's all about winning World Series, right? The Mets last won ' '86. They won in '69. The Nats have never won one. This isn't exactly a lopsided rivalry.

The Mets and Nationals were exchanging tweets over the use "in the books," with NY radio voice Howie Rose saying "Put it in the books" when the Mets win, and Nats voice Charlie Slowes saying "Put a curly W in the books" when D.C. gets a win.

Is this a modern day "Holy Cow!"? As in Phil Rizzuto versus Harry Caray?

Just confusing.

Anyway, carry on.

I'm going back to "focusing on my team." Who stinks, by the way.

Not Today

A happy group of Mahopac Indians

Like everyone, I have thoughts about the hot topic of the day.

No, I really don't prefer bat flips, but I get that it is the popular thing in baseball today. We're in a "me" era, and the pitcher simply needs to get the batter out.

Oh, that wasn't the hot topic of the day?

As has been established, talking politics serves little purpose, given everyone just wants to yell, and nobody is reasonable. I also see an almost-sickening obsession with Donald Trump at times. Just nothing good will come out of discussing it. Let's just say everyone won.

Or lost.

I'd rather just post the crazy Clarkstown North/Mahopac baseball game that I called today. Calling that game was a complete escape.

Sean enjoys the reclining chair in the back of the press box/coaches room

I got what I wanted. I got to go to Mahopac -- with Sean (shockingly) -- and call a baseball game. The Indians had to rally in this one, and it nearly wound up a tie game due to darkness. So listen and enjoy. I've scoped out most of the between-inning breaks for your convenience.