Liz

Liz (Courtesy of her Facebook page)

I'm saddened to say another former colleague has left us. Elizabeth Kopyscinski's family announced that she had advanced Alzheimer's disease a little over month ago, and word came down earlier today that she has died. Though I have no further details, that doesn't take away from the sadness that my WGCH colleagues and I are feeling today.

I knew Liz for probably a decade, if not more. She was dedicated to WGCH and always cared so much about the quality of what we produced. We had more than a few conversations about that, and few people were more supportive of the work I did.

She had a wonderful laugh and wit, along with being the very epitome of class and grace. She loved Greenwich, specifically Old Greenwich, and her clients repaid that love by supporting her. If Liz wanted you to sponsor something, chances are it was going to happen simply because of her.

I hadn't seen her in about a year, though she had started splitting time between North Carolina and Greenwich, so it was always a nice surprise to see her sitting at her desk.

So, again, we mourn, sending along our love and best wishes to her family.

Come On, Greenwich

The scoreboard got installed last year

There was supposed to be a Greenwich Parade of Champions.

It's not going to happen.

Conceived after the Cardinals won the 2018 Class LL football championship (called by Chris Erway and yours truly on WGCH), the parade was initially set for December and was supposed to feature the fall sports champions. It was also to make up for the homecoming parade being canceled due to bad weather.

Then it got moved to June to honor all of the championship teams.

Earlier tonight, the Greenwich Free Press reported that the whole thing has been shelved. Blame is being bounced around, but one thing I know is that members of the football team wouldn't be there because the scheduled date (this Saturday) is the annual Red and White Football Game (which I expect to call).

So it sounds like schedules were the ultimate problem.

While it's a shame, let me say that this is the least of the Greenwich athletic problems. There had to be a way to get everyone together, but apparently not.

No, the bigger problem sits just off of East Putnam Ave. (aka US 1, which stretches from Fort Kent, ME to Key West, FL).

Cardinal Stadium still has hulking bleachers that are closed for business. GHS will need temporary bleachers to even hold graduation. What will happen for the Red and White, scheduled for this Saturday at 5 p.m.?

In truth, is there a place to film? Will there be a place for a PA announcer? Can I broadcast the game?

I have an email out to Greenwich athletic director Gus Lindine, and I know he'll not only get back to me but do everything he can to accommodate a possible broadcast.

In truth, I'm not here to assign blame anywhere. There are people far smarter than I am who know more. So I'm just giving my perspective from what I see and hear behind the microphone.

But I know that Greenwich can be glacially slow when it comes to working things through. I was here for getting that concession stand built, and the installation of the lights.

Cardinal Stadium is important to Greenwich High for graduation, track and field, soccer, lacrosse, field hockey, and football. It should be a point of pride.

We've been through this before (I wrote about it on April 15, in fact). Nothing has happened since then.

Despite the upgraded scoreboard and turf, virtually everything else has seen its day. The bleachers being closed simply amplified things.

As we sit here in June, we can now only wonder what will happen come the fall sports season. Where will those games take place? Where will those broadcasts and coaches films be created?

I'm quite sure everyone is ready to run to the Cape or wherever the summer takes decision makers.

Greenwich, your town needs answers. Residents, visitors, parents, concessionaires, writers, and broadcasters (Hi!) all need answers.

Your coaches need answers.

Your students and student-athletes need answers.

Don't be dictated by anything or anyone else (looking at you, Old Church Road).

You're Greenwich, Connecticut.

Let's go.

A Saturday Off

We'll deal with this guy as comic relief at the bottom of this post

This is the post I wrote yesterday before the news of the passing of former colleague Rui Soares was confirmed. So here it is a day later.

It began as an average Saturday in June.

Mow the lawn. Pay bills. Maybe even -- GASP! -- chill out.

Didn't feel very impressed with TV. I watched the Yankees and ...  er ... whatever team they were playing, as well as Game 3 of the Stanley Cup Finals.

(Oh, wait, the Bombers played Boston. Well ... that's lovely. Not like that ever gets hyped, as in it's ONE FOR THE AGES or anything like that.)

So I scanned Twitter for a few minutes. What in the hell was I thinking?

I discovered literally everyone is working today.

Except me. And I'm none-too-pleased about it.

A week without games is too much for me. Plus there's the whole paycheck thing.

You should always want the ball (or, in this case, the mic). I know I do.

I digress.

*****
What, exactly, is rolling around in this guys' mind?

A reminder that Catholics should not support or attend LGBTQ “Pride Month” events held in June. They promote a culture and encourage activities that are contrary to Catholic faith and morals. They are especially harmful for children.

— Bishop Thomas Tobin (@ThomasJTobin1) June 1, 2019

In a time in which we're watching women's reproductive rights being seriously challenged (absolutely appalling and disgusting, in case my opinion isn't clear*), this ... person ... is saying "Pride Month" events are harmful to children?

Check the replies to the tweet for what might be more harmful to children in relation to the Bishop. I'm hoping I don't need to say much more as to what I think. I'll politely say I disagree with him.

* You know I normally don't head down this road here, but I've been trying to find the right way to express my own outrage over the continued attempt by politicians to dictate to women. It's THEIR bodies. Who am I to tell them what to do? I realize that the answer is more complicated than that, but the "Cliffs Notes" answer is that it's -- overall -- up to them. I'd certainly like to be heard (if it involves me) but it's their choice. Honestly, how difficult a concept is that?

If you have a moment, follow this link to a picture on Instagram from Adam Jones of the San Diego Padres (that sounds weird). I'm no social warrior, but dear God, come on. I can't even bring myself to embed the picture.

*****
Speaking of sports, it's the anniversary of an important date in Mets-land!

It's well known that Carlos Beltran's ball over third base in the sixth inning was a fair ball. But, hey, Derek Jeter got a playoff home run on a blown call. It happens, and it would be reversed in this era of replay. So it goes. Happy anniversary, Johan. Blown call or not, it was a no-hitter.

*****
The headline of this commentary from the Staten Island Advance (SIlive.com) is that 9/11 (you know, September 11, 2001) is becoming "just another day." The truth is that more of this commentary is to complain that neither NYC Mayor Bill de Blasio or NY Gov. Andrew Cuomo had the common decency to show at a ceremony at the 9/11 Museum in Manhattan on Thursday.

The museum had a ceremony to dedicate a memorial to those who have died since 2001 from toxins in the area of the World Trade Center.

I personally don't think September 11 has been forgotten. Goodness knows it's hard to forget when it is, frankly, heavily covered every year, including airing the "Ground Zero" memorial ceremony on TV.

In a lot of ways though, I wish it could be "just another day." So I think, the best thing is to take a moment to remember, and go about our business. No better way to honor it. But that's just me.

*****

It was 52 years ago. Honestly, I'm just out of superlatives. I listened to it again today, and it's still simply amazing and ahead of the curve.

*****
Thank you, Zachary Budin, for posting this. I honestly laughed so hard that I couldn't breathe. The tears ran down my cheeks. Absolutely priceless. The laugh that we all need.

Rui

Rui is third from left with the bat in his hand (picture courtesy Joe Mingoia).
If anyone has a better picture, let me know and I'll add it.

I had a different post written for tonight. Forgive me. What I wrote today was a little all over the place. It can wait.

I got a message out of nowhere from my friend and former colleague, Joe Mingoia.

He said a Facebook post alluded to the passing of another former colleague, Rui Soares. I immediately texted Harold. Like me, he had no information.

As it was, it appeared the post was premature in that the family wasn't prepared to say anything. A subsequent post also came and was taken down.

Within the past hour, Rui's older sister confirmed what we knew.

Our colleague, softball teammate, video co-conspirator (all at Kraft/Philip Morris/Altria), and friend is gone.

He had one of the best senses of humor and a great laugh. More than that, he was a truly quality person.

I don't remember the last time I saw him, but we had found each other on Facebook, which allowed us to keep in touch. I had just wished him a happy birthday only within the last month.

Softball was a great equalizer in the corporate days at the former General Foods (which became Kraft/Philip Morris/Altria). It allowed me to meet people that I probably would never meet and form friendships that I'll carry forever.

While not seeing Rui a lot since those days (I left in '96 but continued to be involved with the league until 2005), there was still the bond of those days.

The laughter we all shared while competing fiercely.

The post-game beverages.

The videos.

So many memories.

In 1995, I became more than just a crappy player. I became a "broadcaster" for the league (a longer story for another time). We began making video summaries every year, with my play-by-play (yes, even then) a part of the highlights.

We got Rui to recite Kevin Costner's speech about what he believes in from Bull Durham. The look on his face and wink at the end will always make me laugh.

He took part in a "Survivor" parody that we did.

He was always up for any of these things.

Once, during our attempt at a "Game of the Week" broadcast, Rui joined me ostensibly to do color.

Sort of.

I introduced him, saying "THE Rui" was joining us.

His response will stay with me forever.

"I don't plan on mez-uh-mer-izing anyone," he said. "I just plan on drinking."

I'm smiling while I'm typing tonight.

I was crying as I texted this to Harold yesterday.

I'm heartbroken for his wife Jen and children Lina and Cristiano.

This news flashed years of memories for me. There's sadness for their memories. Of faces and places I haven't thought about and faces and places that I miss.

Hug your loved ones, friends. We just don't know. Life certainly isn't fair sometimes. Nor does it make sense.

I won't mez-uh-mer-ize anyone in my next broadcast, Rui.

But I'll have a drink in your memory.

A Few Friday Thoughts

We'll start with the above photo. Honestly, I have battled cold sores (I hate that term, but there's no better option) for years. I got one at the beginning of last week and made sure to not shave. Tonight, I got rid of the facial hair.

I'm sure there are some who say, "keep it." Only my mom says to get rid of it.

My son used to take one look at me after a day or two without shaving and say, "Um, Daddy. That's got to go." He doesn't care anymore.

I've never been a big facial hair guy. In fact, I used to be a rigid shave everyday guy. I don't do that anymore.

Anyway. Nothing major. Just mentioning it.

*****

WPLJ radio said goodbye this evening.

Starting life as WABC-FM, the station changed its call letters to WPLJ (standing for White Port & Lemon Juice) in 1971. At the time it was a great rock and roll station with legendary DJ's such as my Facebook friend Jimmy Fink. Jim Kerr, Carol Miller, and so many others.

By 1983, the station had changed to a CHR format (also known as Top 40). For a little over a year, the call letters (foolishly) changed to WWPR because their slogan was "Power 95."

In 1991, the station brought in Scott Shannon, who had revolutionized Top 40 radio in New York with the Z Morning Zoo on Z100. I had actually heard Shannon on Q105 in Tampa around that time.

With Todd Pettengill, Shannon put a formidable radio show together.

However, the station shifted to a Hot AC format for most of the rest of its time. While that held to a certain extent for some time, it eventually began to feel like "soccer mom" radio, as had often been said.

I'm not sure when it happened but by the 2000s, I took PLJ off my trusty car radio presets. The music had become mostly stale and repetitive.

Shannon left in 2014, reappearing on WCBS-FM while Pettengill carried on until this morning.

Educational Media Foundation now owns the station and brought their K-Love religious programming to 95.5 FM around 7:02 tonight.

Just awful (my opinion, of course).

I'd been following this topic for several weeks, and honestly hadn't been emotionally involved. But listening to the final hour struck me hard, as another part of New York radio history went away. Of course, I realize some of it is of their own doing, but that didn't make tonight any easier as I listened.

Race Taylor was the final lead host (DJ), and he ended with a toast to the power of terrestrial radio.

That destroyed me.

I even allowed myself to tweet about it, and while it's received numerous likes, noted former radio host Tom Leykis decided to weigh in.

Thanks for your thoughts, Tom. Best of luck with your podcast or whatever you're doing. I refused to dignify it, but I'll say this: radio isn't dead.

Radio has a new life in a variety of audio formats of streaming, podcasts and, yes, terrestrial radio.

It's still needed but it's also evolving.

Tom Leykis isn't worth my time trying to debate on this topic, so I won't be traveling down to his level.

Incidentally, WPLJ's social media footprint was gone within minutes of their sign-off.

While I've seen this happen in recent times, it's a decision I see as foolish. Only the public gets hurt by not having that archive. I'm sure there's some business mumbo jumbo that brings this on, but it seems unnecessary to me.

We Don't Really Have It So Tough

My booth in right field at Brunswick. It's the best scenario and I'm content.

I belong to a play-by-play group on Facebook. Mike Hirn, Don Wadewitz, Phil Giubileo, and a few other friends belong to it as well.

I don't contribute a lot, to be honest. I mostly read things.

Which is probably for the best.

There are truly some very well-meaning people in there who want to help their fellow broadcasters and broadcasting enthusiasts.

There are also some great stories that get exchanged.

Then there are others.

Without sharing the whole post, a member wrote yesterday about what he saw as the fundamental differences between high school sports, college sports, and minor league baseball. His rant was pretty basic: stats/lineups readily available in minor leagues, mostly the same at the college level, and high school sports is cluster****.

And there are schools that charge to broadcast.

In theory, it's not wrong (though I've never encountered a school that charges us to broadcast and I wouldn't tolerate it).

Now to the nuts and bolts of this.

I've worked in all three levels. I've done minor league hockey and minor league baseball. I've done D-I, D-II, and D-III sports in college. I've called youth sports and high school sports. I've called corporate league softball games.

I've also been in professional press boxes as well.

I've literally seen it all, and yet I haven't.

I've called games in stands and on flatbed trucks.

In rickety press boxes with flies and yellow jackets.

In an auditorium where I took one window, Sean Kilkelly took another window 100 feet away, and Chris Erway was on the field with a wireless microphone for him to take the call when the action got out of our view.

I've worked hockey and basketball with the view from top to bottom and nearly got into a fight over it.

I've worked in science classrooms and foreign language classrooms.

This is how I called the Babe Ruth tourney last summer. Seriously.

Look at that picture. I looked through chain link fencing, walked as necessary, and coaches would work to keep players away from my line of sight. The listener barely knew, unless I needed to explain why I couldn't see something. As always, I made it work.

While calling a college game, I had to hold a push-button phone to my ear for the entire broadcast because there was no other way. Their phone line couldn't handle the technology I brought with me.

In minor league baseball, I had to hold a cellphone to my ear -- twice (once in Brooklyn, once in Aberdeen). In Hudson Valley, they didn't have enough booths at one time, so Sean Ford and I would stand in a breezeway at the top of the stairs on third base line in the stands.

I've had days where stat packs -- yes, the beloved stat pack -- either didn't show up at all or showed up just before first pitch.

As for lineups, the same has happened. They show up with last names, wrong numbers, and are often right before first pitch.

I've had phone lines taken away as I was on the air.

I've been told to move within minutes of air time.

This has gone on at every level. In every place.

The thing I quickly learned was that there is no nirvana. Each place has its peculiarities.

Tech issues in Bridgeport. A makeshift press box made up of arena seats in Albany. Sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with my analyst and graphics guy at Yale.

I told the story of my most recent Brunswick broadcast here.

And guess what? You learn to suck it up.

Because here's the thing. At the end of the day, the media is near the bottom of the priority list, and to be honest, we should be.

I show up and preach largely staying out of the way. But I also preach common kindness like cleaning up our messes and getting our equipment out of the way. Those small things go a long way.

Athletic directors, coaches, and players, as well as site directors, have literally 100 other things to do.

I adjust and, most of all, have learned to not panic.

Ask Shawn Sailer or AJ Szymanowski or Chris Erway or countless other people who have worked with me. We've seen so much and we adjust. Those who don't are doomed.

If -- for some reason -- I don't have a roster before a game (which is hit or miss in my coverage area), I either get in touch with the coach or an athletic secretary (or the AD) or I get to the game and nose around, depending on the sport.

For baseball, you get a lineup (again, it might be late, but you still get it). For basketball, there's a scorebook. Take a picture of it. For hockey, there's also a scorecard. For football, you make sure you have one before the game unless you want to risk getting a program.

For stats, guess what? They're not the end of the world.

Statistics are lovely. Really, they're great. Greenwich High football has done a remarkable job with live game stats. New Canaan also does that. A few others also. At higher levels, there are real-time stats.

Once again, allow me to let The Master speak:

And for the love of Red Barber, please stop with the "I prep for 10 hours" stuff. First, unless you've built a relationship, coaches aren't going to give you much. I worked with coaches for years and most of them knew they could trust me.

Root around for stories. Stand on the field or court and listen. Go to a tailgate. I get a lot of info there. Parents love to talk.

The biggest problem with broadcasters is that they don't know how to tell stories. They're so hung up on the unnecessary statistic that they don't know how to keep listeners informed and entertained.

So that's my rant. I'm so grateful to do the games that I get to do, and I'm glad I have the experiences to tell the stories that I can tell.

We learn from those stories. With them comes wisdom.

Not Tonight

I did The Clubhouse tonight.

I watched hockey.

The St. Louis Blues won.

That's all I've got.

See you tomorrow.

I Had a Post Written

I wrote a post tonight.

It was about the Yankees losing to the Padres, and how the Earth would still be turning tomorrow.

And it sucked.

It would have come off as historically-driven and, likely, obnoxious.

So I deleted the whole thing.

Some nights, it's harder to find a topic, let alone the energy.

This is just one of those nights.

Nothing grabbed me. Nothing felt important enough to discuss.

When all else fails, I do play-by-play. Because that's me.

I have a sleeping cat passed out at my feet. Not exactly Earth-shattering.

I'm watching The Office. Michael Scott is starting a paper company.

And I'm writing the basics of my evening.

Oh, The Clubhouse is back on tomorrow at 7 p.m. on WGCH (and wgch.com wherever your heart desires).

Lastly, there's some wacky weather out there, including devastating hurricanes out in "Hirnland" known as Ohio (home of Michael Hirn). The pictures are heartbreaking.

These are the things on my mind tonight.

I had a post written.

A little slice of life seemed like a better idea.

Billy Buck, John Oliver, and Memorial Day

That 'stache launched over 2,700 hits

Bill Buckner died today. He was only 69 and had dementia.

Terrible.

Watching the push-pull of the past few hours has been maddening. Like, infuriating.

Most media outlets chose to remember Billy Buck for one thing: his error in Game 6 of the 1986 World Series. After the idiocy of both WFAN and SNY (and others), NPR finally made me snap, when they said his "costly error in Game 6 of the 1986 World Series cost the Boston Red Sox their first championship since 1918."

What? No it didn't. Come on, @NPR, go back and do some research. The error did not cost the #RedSox the series. The error was in a tie game in Game 6. Wow. #ponderous https://t.co/B38MYaDceY

— Rob Adams (@double5) May 27, 2019

OK, here's the thing. As I wrote to friend and reader John Monteforte on Facebook: "First, of course, it was game SIX. Second, he shouldn't have been out there, but manager John McNamara wanted him on the field for the celebration. Third, the game was tied when the little roller came up along first. Calvin Schiraldi and Rich Gedman and Bob Stanley did more than their fair share to crap that game away. Plus Roger Clemens went seven and apparently pulled himself. And I was actually rooting for the Sox!"

There was still Game 7, and the Red Sox led that game 3-0. Maybe recognize that a porous bullpen might have lost the Series for ya?

But, also, Buckner won a batting crown. He had over 2,700 hits. He did more good with the Cubs than the Red Sox. He was in left field the night Hank Aaron hit 715. He was beloved by, literally, everyone.

This is the kind of stuff that makes people hate the media. Be better than this, folks.

Additionally, if you're a Mets fan today, DO NOT thank Buckner for '86. It's irresponsible. If you're a Red Sox fan, pause and remember the utter hell some of you put this guy through.

Bill Buckner deserved better. Much better.

(Note: Just as I was finishing up this post, I went back to look at NPR's account and they deleted the original tweet. Give credit where credit is due.)

In response to reader feedback, we've deleted an earlier version of this tweet and replaced it with one that highlights Bill Buckner's achievements in the major leagues.

— NPR (@NPR) May 27, 2019

*****
So TV personality John Oliver is a Mets fan, eh? That's adorable.

Seriously, that's cute. It then gives some Mets fans* a reason to celebrate.

Yet maybe -- just maybe -- they (or that one) should focus a little less on hating the Nationals as well (really, I don't get that) and a little more on being 26-26 and 4.5 games behind the Phillies (as I write)?

Seriously, the Phillies and Braves should be the current focus.

As for Mr. Oliver, whose show I've never watched, he said (per SNY, the paragon of sports journalism):

"As a real sports fan in England, I knew it's just not acceptable to come to America and support the Yankees," Oliver told Pix 11 on Sunday while watching the Mets beat the Tigers. "It's just not OK. By default, I was a Mets fan because I knew being a Yankees fan was the wrong thing to do morally." 

Oliver said when he joined "The Daily Show," then-host Jon Stewart "made it pretty clear that being a Mets fan was mandatory." 

He isn't the only famous comedian who is a Mets fan. Ever hear of someone named Jerry Seinfeld?

*Please note there are Mets fans that restore my faith in humanity. Dave Torromeo, Eric Scholl, Phil Giubileo, and so on. Hell even our beloved Kato (Chris Kaelin), so long as he's off social media, I guess. He seems more medicated (I kid).

*****
Today is Memorial Day, of course. What needs to be remembered is that we're remembering those who died while in the US Armed Forces (Darien Times). They're the reason why we're BBQ'ing, laying on the beach, shopping in the mall, or sitting on our back porch writing a blog. Please take a moment -- literally, a moment -- to pause and honor these brave souls.

Today is not about anyone who served in the Armed Forces. We remember the veterans in November and don't do a very good job with it if you ask me. Veterans Day is not treated with the respect it deserves, but then again, neither is Memorial Day, is it?

Anyway, we still live in a very special place, and it's because of a lot of blood and a lot of bravery (and I suppose even some foolishness).

After pausing for a moment (there's an official moment of silence at 3 p.m. but I say anytime today will do), then carry on, play "Hot Fun in the Summertime" or whatever song you choose, and enjoy a burger.

Thank you, all.

Bart Starr

Starr drops back in Super Bowl I

Bryan Bartlett Starr died today at the age of 85.

Many are saying how good -- even great -- Bart Starr was, and I'm glad to read that.

We seem to forget the legends, especially when we get blinded by Tom Brady, Joe Montana, and so on.

Bart Starr should absolutely be in that conversation.

The reason he's not, first and foremost, is the era he played in. Starr played in the "run first" years of the NFL, never throwing for more than 2,438 miles in a season. That would place Starr at 28th in 2018, after Joe Flacco and in front of Ryan Fitzpatrick.

In total, number 15 threw for 152 touchdowns.

In his career.

Bart Starr engineered the Packer Sweep, handing the ball to Jim Taylor and letting him do the rest. He had good receivers -- never the best ones necessarily. He had a great offensive line for sure.

He had the greatest coach. Yes, I said the greatest.

Another reason we don't talk about number 15 Bart Starr the way we talk about many others is his humility. Bart wasn't a commercial guy. He wasn't seen with Giselle, though he was quietly married to his high school sweetheart Cherry for 65 years. He wasn't part of a funny family.

There was no flash to Bart Starr. There was just focus and winning.

There were also five NFL championship wins in six tries. Those, actually, meant more back then than the two AFL-NFL World Championship Games that he won.

You know, the game that became known as the Super Bowl.

Oh, he played pretty well in those two games also, where he won the first two MVP awards.

Starr played in an era in which his contemporaries included Johnny Unitas (still the GOAT for my money), Frank Tarkenton, Norm Van Brocklin, Bobby Layne, YA Tittle, John Brodie, George Blanda, and Len Dawson. At the end of his career, the names were Namath and Bradshaw and Staubach and Griese.

By that point, Bart Starr had set the standard for winning without flash.

It's fair to say he never needed to go beat the Raiders in Super Bowl II, though that certainly was a fine topper on his career, which still had a few years left in it.

He had already cemented his legend by following Jerry Kramer into the most frozen of tundra at Lambeau Field on Dec. 31, 1967.

The game, of course, was "The Ice Bowl," as the Packers and Cowboys met for the second year in a row to resolve the NFL championship. Starr convinced Lombardi that the lineman could get just enough traction to block the Cowboys defensive line late in the fourth quarter.

If you don't know, the temperature at kickoff was −15 °F and the wind chill was −48 °F.

By the time Starr ran back to the huddle to call Brown right 31 Wedge, the sun was setting.

The Packers trailed 17-14. If a run was stopped at the line, the game was over. A rollout pass would either be incomplete, a touchdown, or leave time for a field goal.

Of course, Starr scored, and the legend of the game was born.



Lombardi would eventually resign and make a last return with the Redskins before dying in Sep 1970.

Starr would walk away after 1971, and immediately become a QB coach for the Packers. He tried broadcasting on CBS, but returned to the Packers as head coach for nine seasons of mostly little success, compiling a record of 52–76–2.

Starr's health would deteriorate in his early 80s, thanks to strokes, a heart attack, and brain damage. Bart was able to visit his friend Brett Favre at the ceremony to retire number four in 2015.

Bart Starr was special. A class act. All the things you want to hear about a man.

A man who would sign any autograph.

A man who played tough and hard and make no fuss.

A winner.

Green Bay -- always Titletown -- is very sad tonight.

While not their most talented quarterback died today, their greatest one did.

*****
A quick side-note. I had a small affection for auto racing as a kid. I cared about two races (Daytona and Indianapolis) because my dad did. But the culture of the whole scene -- especially NASCAR -- changed, and it largely turned me off. Too much glitz. Too commercial. Too...well...too much something.

Maybe it's me. Maybe I've changed. Like anything else, I can be brought back to it.

Anyway, I watched a large chunk of Indy today, and the end was fantastic.

My dad would have loved it.

I just wanted to say that.

A Special Day

I make little to no money. That's a simple, sad fact.

But I have a cool gig.

Today that gig actually made me no money. No, wait, given I had to use my car and buy lunch, I lost money.

But I got to spend the day with my son at the Greenwich Town Party, as the hosts of our radio coverage on WGCH.

"Priceless" sounds like a lame term because, as I just pointed it, there was a price. But at the same time, you can't put a price on the experience.

When I first asked him to join me, he seemed interested, but by last night, there were the usual questions about "how long will we be there" and such.

But he got out of bed before 8 a.m. (a teenager? Unthinkable!) and we were out the door before nine.

We grabbed the equipment at WGCH and made our way to the media parking a few blocks from Roger Sherman Baldwin Park.

One key for us was that we didn't pack as much equipment as we had in other years. Even I -- known for overpacking -- was willing to take the risk of surviving on whatever was packed in our single duffle bag.

With a visitor (Paul Silverfarb photo)

He was at the ready to help with anything I asked and stood nearby listening as we spoke with roadies and sound guys for the likes of Lynyrd Skynyrd.

He served as the perfect sounding board for any of my asides and laughed along at things during the day.

He willingly knocked me for looking foolish (yes, I can be that dad).

He jumped in and talked on the radio like he was a pro.

Someone will say we were boring or too glib or some other criticism. They're certainly entitled to it.

He chatted with Fred Camillo and Paul Silverfarb and DJ Furano and John Ferris Robben. He answered questions from people who stopped by the WGCH tent and handed out frisbees that the Greenwich Town Party left with us.

He watched as his dad interviewed Ray Dalio (only one of the richest people in the world) and recognized what a significant thing that was.

I thought he was great on the air and off. He chimed in with opinions and remained professional (even if there was something he didn't like).

By 4 p.m., he was basically done. He was content to say he saw The Beach Boys (even if it's basically Mike Love and Bruce Johnston and a bunch of other people). He didn't care about staying for the Beatles cover band Sun King or even for Lynyrd Skynyrd.

I was sort of fried by the point also. It's an all-day gig that comes with varying degrees of stress.

Besides all of the joy I felt in watching him today, and in spending such precious time with him, I was most pleased to hear him say -- without prompting -- that he really enjoyed the day.

He loved it. He said he'd like to come back.

I know my concert-attending days are long over, but I hope one day the conditions are right for us to pack the equipment in the car and stay for the whole event one year.

This wasn't that year.

I realize I'm biased because he's my son, but I think he's earned another year of co-hosting with me.

I don't expect Sean to go into broadcasting at all. But if nothing else, he can put this experience on his resume.

He can say he spent a day as a broadcaster with his dad, co-hosting the Greenwich Town Party on WGCH.

He has a story that he can tell if he wants to.

I know I'll tell it.

Proudly.

On Being a "Homer"

John Sterling and Michael Kay (Photo: Getty Images)

I saw this earlier today.

Epic call from an epic game. (via @SNYtv)pic.twitter.com/6tYxn8Qkfw

— New York Mets (@Mets) May 23, 2019

Which, OK, fine. Gary Cohen -- the revered TV "voice" of the Mets -- did a fist pump and proved he's a homer. Honestly, it's not a big deal. Gary is a great broadcaster of course.

But...

John Sterling (and Michael Kay) get lambasted should they show any bias for the Yankees.

The utter hypocrisy of this is hysterical.

*****
To be clear, I detest homer broadcasters.

I honestly can't think of a single time I pumped my fist or high-fived someone in the booth for a big moment. Sure, there's the joy of pride in a particular call, but never in rooting for a team.

Chris Erway and I have punched fists over a good broadcast opening. I remember Ryan DeMaria once complimenting a particular call during a break. AJ Szymanowski has done the same.

But rooting? No.

Oh, there's no question that you want the team you're with to do well, but mostly because that means more work. More games to call!

I truly believe in being 50/50 when calling a game, but short of that, it's 55/45. I know Mike Hirn, for instance, has said 60/40 is acceptable, and I understand that.

But there's something to being professional, and I have preached that dislike of bias to every student of mine. Simply because you go to school there doesn't mean you have to act your dog has died when "your" team loses.

Save that for when you're off the air.

For whatever reason, once the microphone is live, I see laundry. I see two teams. Tonight it was Wilton/New Canaan for the FCIAC boys lacrosse championship. Wilton was probably the better "story" in that they pulled off a huge upset in beating national power Darien in the semis. They also haven't won the title in 20 years.

For me, there's the joy in the roar of the crowd. Yes, that's a "Vin Scully" thing for sure, but it's what I believe in. When calling the game-winning hit of the FCIAC baseball championship on Wednesday night, I did what I normally do. In the industry, we call it "laying out."

The crowd noise was wonderful.

But, again, no rooting interest.


Check this out on Chirbit

In case you're wondering, that's WWPT broadcasting duo talking in the background. As student broadcasters, they were obviously excited for their classmates.

I was once asked to not get excited when the "opposing team" scored. I felt it was a compliment, and that I was doing my job the right way.

And so that's my style.

Some like being a homer. Some don't.

I'll be at the Greenwich Town Party with Sean tomorrow. Listen live on WGCH beginning at 11 a.m.

I've Had The Same Thought

I Googled "quality writing." This came up, so apparently, quality writing looked like this...in the '80s.

I just read co-conspirator John Nash's post for tonight.

More than once, I've told someone that I feel like #Project365 has actually made me a worse writer because I don't feel as strong as I used to on getting my thoughts out there for consumption.

However, to John's point, there's also that point where I find myself wondering if the topics will dry up.

There are many nights where I've forgotten or am simply running out of time. I've even gotten out of bed because I forgot to write.

As of today, the topics have not run out. I've found my muse in a variety of places.

I've found a way, and I know John will also.

Then again, there are topics I'd love to attack that I know would only bring me grief. That -- right there -- is the very thing that nearly killed this blog up until the end of last year.

So I guess what I'm saying is that not every post is going to be the award-worthy.

And that just has to be OK.

In a Flash

I saw the sign:

Road Work
3 Mile Delay

Sigh. Just another day in Ned Lamont's Connecticut.

There's a rant buried herein about tolls, but there are others who speak far more informed than I do. I'm just a dopey sports broadcaster.

I saw the line of vehicles as I approached the Mianus River Bridge heading towards Old Greenwich on Interstate 95. It was the usual combination of trucks, cars, SUV's, motorcycles and so on.

Again, just another day.

As I slowed up, I saw it in my mirror. It was a black Volkswagen -- probably a Jetta -- swerving and swaying from the left lane into the center, with a target on me.

I wondered if I should fly into the right lane. The left was occupied.

A quick decision was needed, and it actually looked like momentum would move him into the right lane.

I stayed, and braced, with my foot ready to gun the engine as necessary.

Would he flip over? Would there be an impact with me?

I don't think my life actually flashed before my eyes, but "Oh s**t!" went through my brain.

Then it all settled down. He got control of the car and put himself in traffic behind me.

I began to do a mental inventory. All was fine.

The driver was young. Probably a college student, based on the UConn parking permit in the front window. He wore a backward baseball hat and a tie-dye T-shirt.

He seemed nonplussed about the whole thing.

I, on the other hand, was still a little shaky.

He continued to stay in the lane behind me as we sat in traffic, watching vehicles weave to get an advantage.

So was our wayward Volkswagen on his phone and didn't see the vehicle stopped ahead of him in the left lane?

Did the car in front of him stop short?

Does it matter?

Since all ended well, I suppose the answer is no.

It's amazing how it can all look bad in a flash and then totally swing back the other way.

I've got the FCIAC Championship baseball game tonight. I'll be there.

No Time

Staples (3rd base line) and St. Joseph before game one

Darien (3rd base line) and Fairfield Ludlowe before game two

It was a long day.

Two baseball games. Two broadcasts. Two playoff games. Over five hours total.

I left every ounce of me in that booth.

I had to contend with two other broadcasters, from Staples High School, and I could hear their every word.

They told me they could also hear my every word, and people were texting them to complain.

Sorry, WWPT listeners. We'll try to sit further apart tomorrow.

So in lieu of time, I'm keeping it brief.

The FCIAC Championship is tomorrow, as Staples meets Fairfield Ludlowe.

7 p.m.

On Fairfield Live. The official home of the FCIAC.

See you then.

Game Of...No

Since Peter Dinklage is cool, I used his picture

Game of Thrones ended last night.

Like some things in entertainment, I can tell you I had not the first clue about it.

I never watched it but I see the myriad social media comments every day.

While I had zero interest in it, I also respect the fanbase in the same way that I posted about The Big Bang Theory last week.

Some have immediately placed Game of Thrones on a list of greatest TV shows ever.

It really wouldn't be fair of me to say yes or no, though I doubt that it could surpass The Sopranos in my mind.

Or M*A*S*H, All in the Family, Seinfeld, The Honeymooners, or I Love Lucy (in the comedy category).

Anyway, I'm sure the show satisfied their rabid fanbase and that's what matters.

While I will likely never watch the show, I tip my remote control to you.

Grumpy

Two versions of Grumpy Cat belong to Sean. It's miserable.

The news of the passing of the internet sensation nicknamed "Grumpy Cat" grabbed me.

Sure, I appreciated the laugh-out-loud banality of the memes and greeting cards and merchandise.

But I knew Sean would be sad. That's where it hit me.

I texted him as soon as I read the news.

"You're kidding," he texted back.

I took his stuffed animal down from the shelf in his room, and the small one that hangs on his wall and left them up against his pillow.

"Are you trying to make me sad?" he asked.

He laughed after that.

Still, it was sweet to see him holding on to one of the things from his youth.

We watch our kids grow up and often lose their sense of youth. The snuggly Sean is long gone. The days of "kisses, tickles, and hugs" every night has been replaced by often not even saying goodnight.

There was a time where he would have wanted me to wake him when I got home. No more, and that's OK. Time moves on and it's healthy.

So to see him care about a seven-year-old cat with feline dwarfism whose real name was Tardar Sauce was truly sweet.

But I knew he would. Sean, you see, loves cats. He loved Fred, the cat I had when he was born, and is now crazy about Chico, the adult cat who joined us a few years ago.

So, of course, he would connect with Grumpy Cat.

Thus the passing of the Grump was a bummer.

It's another piece of our past.

Thanks, Wick

Game over. Season over. School year over.

I called my final game for Brunswick for the season today, as the Bruins lacrosse team traveled to Sheffield, MA to play the Berkshire Bears.

The Bruins dominated from the opening faceoff, winning 14-1. Brodie Firestein started the scoring party just 45 seconds in as the Bruins ran to an early 6-0 lead.

The Bruins allowed me to tag along on the bus -- something I'd like to see more of. Many families don't want to go to the road games so it's convenient to have the broadcaster go along, and riding the bus is an economical move that works for all parties.

But...let's circle back to that.

The bus ride was peaceful. I kept to myself as the players and coaches did their own thing. I'm sure many were wondering who the strange dude was in the third row. A straight shot up 684, which ends straight onto 22, then a right at Amenia on 343 and a left onto 41 and we were soon there. The whole trip took about two hours.

The Berkshire campus is beautiful, with scenic hills and mountains serving as a backdrop. We drove past the lacrosse field before being let off at the athletic center, which meant walking back across campus to the field.

No worry, as it was a beautiful day.

Joe, my trusty Local Live cameraman, was waiting, and completely unaware that I'd be there. I soon faced the reality: this field had no power.

No lights, no press box, no sound system, and a limited scoreboard.

It looked like I had taken a ride to plug a microphone into his camera and call the game. The duffel bag of equipment (as well as my computer and so on) seemed unnecessary.

Eventually, we walked to a house (yes, a house on campus) right behind the small set of bleachers we were stationed on. A gentleman stood outside tending to his flowers. We asked about power nearby.

"If you have enough extension cord, I'll plug you in inside my front door," he said.

And so he did.

Power. All set.

All concerns were erased and the broadcast proceded. I was able to make do with minimal cell service (it's bad up there) and produced a Robcasting audio call (see below).

The game went on, I packed up and walked back to the athletic center where goalie Christian Barnard's mom was handing out sandwiches.

She was kind enough to give me a chicken parm (and thank you!).

For the next two hours, we drove back to Brunswick as the players laughed and sang and watched college lacrosse.

A happy atmosphere for sure, and I'm glad nobody seemed bothered by the infiltrator.

I said my thank you and drove away.

Thank you to Brunswick isn't quite enough, but it's the best I've got.

In the end, it looks like I did 35 games between football, soccer, hockey, basketball, lacrosse, and baseball for Brunswick in 2018-2019. While that will never be enough for me, I still enjoyed what I got to call.

I lost a few games due to the hockey tournament in New Jersey. I lost a few more due to cancellations and schedule snafus. Others were, frankly, my own fault (and something that will always bug me). And I lost a couple of others to...well...I just lost a couple of others.

I probably could have done over 40-50 in the end.

Still, I'd love to see it be even more, but there are reasons for what it is.

Frankly, it's a lot more than I did this year for Greenwich High, and that's astounding to consider (for what it's worth).

I've come a long way with Brunswick. Even if people don't know my face (they mostly do not) they seem to know my voice, and that's a good thing. They also know my name.

People generally don't realize that I was a part of a broadcast with Brunswick 20 years ago, and I've been around ever since.

So where there's a will, there's a way, and that's why I like to travel. We'll find a way to make it happen (even if some situations are worse than others).

I apologize for not getting to know the players and coaches enough. I'm hoping to improve on that as we move forward, and Joe Early has done an incredible job of feeding me info to improve my knowledge base.

14-1, Brunswick

So thank you, Brunswick, for another year. I appreciate how I've been welcomed to the very fringe of being a part of the family. I'm honored to serve as your lead play-by-play announcer and look forward to seeing what 2019-2020 has in store for us.

Thank you, families, players, and coaches, as well as staff. Enjoy your summer, best wishes to the graduates, and we'll see you soon.

Schedule Update

A few schedule notes:

First, I'm jumping on a team bus tomorrow to head to Massachusetts with Brunswick, as the Bruins finish the lacrosse season against Berkshire. Game time is 3 p.m via Local Live.

On Sunday, I'll get together with Greenwich High School football again as the Cardinals get their state championship rings. The day begins at 4 p.m. with a youth clinic and a parents symposium. Then I'll help host the ring ceremony at 5 p.m.

If it works out, we'll air the ceremony on Robcasting Radio.

Then, my FCIAC load will give me the FCIAC baseball semis and championship game on Monday and Wednesday from Stamford. I'm thrilled to be back on the call of FCIAC baseball after two years away. I will admit that this was a goal.

Local Live is the exclusive broadcaster for the FCIAC semifinals and championships.

There's a chance I might also jump on lacrosse (probably in Section One in New York) later in the week, but we'll see.

Then -- officially -- after that? Who knows?

Again, I want to keep filling up my schedule with games. So reach out and let's see what we can do.

There's been interest from Little League, American Legion, Cal Ripken, and Babe Ruth baseball. Hopefully lots more.

The Clubhouse is also trying to return but my schedule has sort of been mucking up that water. We're hoping for the next show on May 29th and more in June, but check your local listings (such as Facebook or Twitter).

Lastly, I've been sitting on this one, but I'm excited to say that I'm hosting the Greenwich Town Party on WGCH for the third year in a row. My co-host will be none other than Sean Adams! He's a young musician in his own right, and I thought he'd be the perfect sidekick for the gig. We're expected to go on the air at 11 a.m. but again, follow along on social media for more.

So that's everything for now.

Here's the Ketcham/Mahopac broadcast from yesterday.

Out With a Bang

The Big Bang Theory ended tonight.

There are things that are astounding as to why they are popular (various musicians, movies, and TV shows apply).

While TBBT is crazy popular, it's also crazy disliked.

I loved it, though it took reruns to get me onboard (which isn't uncommon for me).

TBBT was my comfort food. In the moments of loneliness, when sometimes all I could do was watch TV, I took solace in these characters as background noise.

Leonard, Sheldon, Penny, Raj, and Howard (and later on Amy and Bernadette) gave me countless lines that cracked me up, and that I'd continue to laugh at in subsequent viewings.

Paul Silverfarb and I would text each other if a particular episode was on.

Sean and I would roar when one of us would like at the sky and say, "Stars are pretty, aren't they?"


If you didn't know The Big Bang Theory, it wouldn't make sense. To us, it did.

I don't kid myself that TBBT was Seinfeld or M*A*S*H or All in the Family. It wasn't The Soprano's.

It didn't need to be.

Was it time to end it? Yes, frankly, I think it was. The characters had gone far enough. They had changed, and not necessarily for the better. For instance, I found Bernadette tougher to like as she got meaner. Amy also stopped being as awkward and that took away some of her charm.

Goodbyes are still difficult.

But I still hate that damn theme song.

No bazinga there.

*****
While on the topic of goodbyes, it looks like I said two farewells this week for the season.

The Brunswick baseball team lost its FAA semifinal game yesterday to Hamden Hall, and Mahopac ended its regular baseball season today (I doubt I'll see them in the playoffs).

I don't have the eloquence to express exactly what these programs mean to me. It's a blast to cover them, and I hope I continue to build good things with each team.

I really like what has happened through Robcasting Radio beginning to work with Mahopac High School. Not only is it my hometown and my old high school, but it's a grassroots thing that has a little life to it. I have a feeling there's a future there, and I just hope I'm a big part of it.

I'm trusted with the words to describe Brunswick, Mahopac, Fairfield Prep, St. John's, Yale, the FCIAC, Section 1, and of course Greenwich High School. I'd certainly love to have the job of being the lead for any one of these places, but I'm grateful to all of them for having me around.

My original point was to acknowledge both Brunswick and Mahopac baseball. Thank you both.