Game 1

 

The packed broadcast case was ready to go

We've reached the starting gate.

Greenwich at Newtown. 7 p.m. tonight. WGCH (1490 AM, 105.5 FM, wgch.com). Chris Erway in the booth with me. Sean Kilkelly in the studio. Pre-game show is at 6:50 p.m. Booth space has been approved by Newtown High School.

Now comes the packing.

First, if we're doing "chicken or the egg" stuff, we need voices. Chris and I have those. But we need to project them. 

So two headsets are packed. So is a crowd microphone. But we need a mixer and my trusty Zoom PodTrak P4 is ready. It's small and light and doesn't take up much space. It will also allow me to use a cell phone if we have to (fingers crossed that we don't have to).

Mic cables. We need those also. At least one for the crowd mic.

Power? That can be run via my computer as the P4 goes via a USB cable. So we need one power outlet later for my laptop. We'll need more if either one of us needs to plug in another computer.

I'll likely have backups with me as well. Another mixer, cables, mics. Maybe even headsets.

By the way, none of this belongs to WGCH, LocalLive, or anyone else. It's mine. I acquired it over the years as I built "Robcasting."

I probably should have a WGCH banner and, if I have a minute, I'll stop by the studio to pick one up. That's where living five minutes away is a nice thing.

Rosters. Yes, I've got them. Accurate? That's a good question. I found rosters for both squads. We'll have to resolve pronunciations and some duplicate numbers but that will all shake out. As I've done this for a long time (it's season number 25 covering high school sports), I've taught myself to recognize that somehow it will all be OK.

I've had my fair share of moments where I flipped out/wanted to flip out/needed to take a walk. I have fewer of those moments now. But it's still a good reminder of the standards that I set and expect our broadcasts to have.

The kit will also have extra cables for tomorrow when we produce our first broadcast at Brunswick for the new season. I have to be able to run a long cable to take our audio feed to our cameraman so that it can be sent to LocalLive. Tomorrow, we'll have Gustavo as our trusty cameraman. I never worry when he's there. Same goes with a lot of camerapeople.

But that's for tomorrow. In fact, I had to stop writing to work on Brunswick's roster, as head coach Wayne McGillicuddy just emailed it.

It's all good and it starts tonight.

We'll tell the stories as best as we can.

Let's kick it off.

*****

I wrote all of the above before the game tonight. Now, I'm back home following a 34-14 Greenwich win.

There were hiccups. While there was "space in the booth" for us we would have been sitting behind the Newtown coaches. Er...no. We went down to the concourse and called the game from the crowd.

There was rust. Roster issues. Pronunciation worries. a technical snafu right at air time.

But there was football and we were back on the air. That was pretty sweet.

Now comes a Brunswick scrimmage tomorrow at 1 p.m.

Oh, and the Renegades were eliminated and their season is over.

So we're all about fall sports now.

On Today's Show

 

London, 4/19/2022

(Music plays)

Hi everyone. Welcome to "Doubleheader." I'm Rob Adams. Nice to have you with us.

That's probably what I would have said had I done a show today. But I did not do a show. I had too many other things going on.

Yet today was one of those days when I really wanted to do a show.

For one thing, it's the first day of the new NFL season and I would have liked to play some of that great football music (you'd know it), make some silly predictions, and just get ready.

High school football finally begins in Connecticut tomorrow so I would have liked to do something with that. Maybe I could get a guest on and have some fun getting pumped up.

The baseball pennant race continues and that's a constant topic to discuss.

But, of course, I'd also have to acknowledge the passing of Her Majesty the Queen. Never afraid to discuss "real world" stuff on my show, that story broke in the early afternoon and it would have been ripe for me to talk about.

What a person and what a life. Just consider everything she saw in her 96 years.

Missteps? Of course. But, overall, she was a person of remarkable grace and class.

As someone who has been to England a few times, I have a slight interest in the monarchy. To be sure, I enjoyed standing outside of Buckingham Palace back in April. 

From there, the show would have included the reaction to her passing. Among the things that stuck out to me was a quick tweet from Reggie Jackson, who said, "“Now we all know I was innocent! Amen! RIP Queen E!.”

(Spoiler alert!)

Remember, in the 1988 film "The Naked Gun: From the Files of Police Squad" Reggie was the Queen's would-be assassin.

I thought it was a moment of levity on a gloomy day. News also broke that Bernard Shaw, the remarkable journalist, had died at 82. Shaw was best-known for his work as an anchor with CNN. I will certainly never forget his chilling reporting from Baghdad as the first Gulf War broke out in 1991.

All of this and more would have made for a full hour of radio. 

I should have been on but the reality was an opportunity to work and I couldn't say no.

So I did a deposition followed by a podcast recording session. 

Then I got a surprise. Sean -- remember him? -- needed to come stay with me in Greenwich. So I met him for dinner and we picked up some groceries.

He's comfortable here and always welcome. Why wouldn't he be?

He's a working man though so he'll get to enjoy driving from here to work in Fishkill tomorrow before driving back here. He'll also do it on Saturday. I'm familiar with that drive.

I'm glad he's here. He hasn't been here since we got back from vacation in August.

Just a friendly reminder: our first high school football broadcast is tomorrow at 6:50 p.m. on WGCH as Greenwich plays at Newtown. Chris Erway and I will have the call. Then we'll be back on LocalLive on Saturday as Brunswick hosts Loomis in a scrimmage at 1 p.m.

Audio will be available on Robcasting.

Like I said, the show would have been a full one.

Cue the music! We're out of time!

And as you get ready for whatever sports you're focusing on, please remember: black is NOT a Mets color! I'm Rob Adams. Thanks for listening to "Doubleheader" on 1490 AM, 105.5 FM, and wgch.com We'll see you next time. So long.

Be Adaptable

Part of being, well, me means being ready to adjust on the fly.

I like being reliable and the attitude of being prepared to adjust plays into that.

Now, to be honest, I don't really like last-minute things but, let's face it, it's fairly impossible to avoid it.

So, as I begin writing, I'm working on my second deposition of the day. Both happened in the spur of the moment.

The first one came via text this morning and I had a few hours before I had to start so I was able to go get some food and do some stuff around the apartment. However, the time of the deposition interfered with "Doubleheader" so I had to bail out of the show.

Still, a paid gig is a paid gig. 

So I worked and was done by dinner time. I finished up a few other things and began to settle in for the night. I listened to the end of the first game of the Yankees/Twins doubleheader and was getting ready to enjoy the second game.

Then the phone rang again.

"You're done with your deposition?"

"Yes. All set."

"OK, cool. Want to do another one?"

"Er. Sure, why not?"

With a little technical preparation, we set it up and now here I am.

I like being adaptable. I always thought it was one of my better selling points.

It's in line with my "Have headset. Will travel" philosophy where I can jump on a game at a moment's notice. Again, it's not my favorite way to roll but that ability to adjust has served me well.

Speaking of which, game one is set for Friday night at Newtown. 

Yes, there will be plenty of adapting that night. I've already glanced at rosters and have a headache. There are duplicate numbers and, of course, there will always be the question of pronunciations and simply feeling prepared.

I'll get there. Of course, I will. I've done this for too long. But I won't feel right until we're settled into the booth on Friday and the broadcast starts. Once I see we have good internet/cell phone service and the rosters are OK and we have a good view and we're comfortable then I will finally take a deep breath.

We'll be off and running. But, until then, there will be apprehension.

Again, I've done this for too long.

The job tonight wound up being brief. There are rarely guarantees with these kinds of things although occasionally we'll get told that the deposition has to end by a certain time. I wasn't aware of such a thing tonight.

So, considering the circumstances I feel fortunate to be finished. 

I just turned the radio on for a few minutes to listen to John Sterling and Suzyn Waldman call the Yankees/Twins game.

Incidentally, I'm loving hearing the Renegades I covered last year make it. Osawld Peraza got his first major league hit today for the Yankees while Hayden Wesneski pitched well for the Cubs last night. It's the same way I felt watching high school players I covered move up the ladder. Very cool.

It's quiet here otherwise.

Just another night in the life.

Gades are Gonna Gade!

 

There will be new leadership at "The Dutch."

Steve Gliner is moving on but let's do this more professionally by quoting the release from the team:

The Hudson Valley Renegades, the High-A affiliate of the New York Yankees, have announced changes in their senior leadership effective immediately. Steve Gliner, the Renegades President and General Manager, will be leaving his current role to become a consultant to the Renegades ownership group, Diamond Baseball Holdings. Renegades current Vice President and Assistant General Manager Tyson Jeffers has been elevated to General Manager, and Director of Corporate Partnerships Zach Betkowski becomes the Renegades new Assistant General Manager.

I met Steve back in my first run as a broadcaster for the team in 2001. I had the pleasure of working for him as Gades play-by-play broadcaster in late 2019 before shifting over to be a public address announcer in 2022. He's a quality man and a friend.

He's also a minor league lifer and I know many are thrilled for him. His personal statements on social media indicated his excitement to shift away from the day-to-day of running the team.

Now, what does this all mean? Well, it will sort itself out as it always does.

From my own perspective, I also know Tyson and Zach and think the team will be in great hands moving forward.

What's it mean for me? Who knows? If 2021 and 2022 taught me anything it was that I expect nothing. In all likelihood, that's exactly what this change will mean: nothing. If the team liked having me around this season then I might be back for more public address stuff. If not, well, then no.

After getting over the shock of the offer to be the co-PA announcer, I decided to jump in since I love baseball, I love the Renegades, and my son works there. I have friends there. I have family there. It was multiple wins for me.

My car probably wasn't thrilled and I was often exhausted. That was the downside. Even when I was willing to dip into my pocket to get a hotel room the prices were so exorbitant that I just elected to drive back to Greenwich.

But the hope was I'd laugh and embrace a different side of my skill set every time I was there.

I did both with Fish, David (R&D), Feldman, Davey, Mikey Beats, Zach, and anyone else crazy enough to join us in that PA booth.

Plus Zolz -- the true one and only Rick Zolzer -- endorsed my being a part of this plan. It doesn't happen without him. We blended well as the co-PA announcers. Zolz did the on-field stuff and most of the comedy. I tried to bring my inner snark out occasionally but remain the professional in-stadium "voice."

I know I was probably a little too stale at times. Yes, I do vanilla well, so I've been told. But I tried to be excited where appropriate.

Look, I was raised on Bob Sheppard, forever the "voice" of Yankee Stadium. But I knew I couldn't just be like him. Instead, I honored him by using some of his tricks, especially for a player's first appearance.

Following Vin Scully's death last month, I also began my reads before the ballgame by wishing everyone "a very pleasant good evening/afternoon." Vin himself would probably groan at me but I plan on continuing to do something like that. It was actually important to me.

I know great PA announcers. Eric Scholl immediately comes to mind. I'm not a great PA announcer.

OK, so let's deal with the elephant in the room holding a headset. How much did I wish I was a few doors down in the broadcast booth?

Come on, you know the answer. 

But, in truth, I didn't let it dominate me. I just went and did my job every night. This job wasn't about play-by-play. It was about game operations. Any feedback was positive and anything that needed adjusting got adjusted.

Standard operating procedure, to be honest.

I saw the positives in the whole situation.

I had fun. I laughed. I made people laugh a few times. You'll rarely know such power than to have thousands of people reacting to what you say. That happened whether introducing Jasson Dominguez or telling the crowd to cheer for a mascot race.

The crowd reaction is a pretty strong drug, friends.

But don't think that inner play-by-play voice wasn't talking in my brain.

I wish Steve Gliner well as the Renegades move into a new era, including improving Dutchess Stadium, which Steve will be involved in.

I wish Tyson and Zach well as they steer the organization into 2023.

There's still, of course, the little matter of the conclusion of the 2022 season, as the Gades are in Wilmington tonight and pushing for a playoff spot. If they clinch one, I'll be back at the stadium next week for one game. 

Then, officially, my 2022 baseball season will be over.

As I've learned over the years, who knows what will happen after that?

That's baseball for ya!

A Day With No Labor

He's bored too

Labor Day has arrived and it feels like we're just waiting for the rain.

That's a thing. Good thing? Sure, we need rain since we haven't remotely had enough. Bad thing? Well, yeah, rain can bring on the usual issues. Flooding, etc.

These are the things I'm thinking about on Labor Day, 2022.

The weekend had its own stuff. At one point, I was involved in multiple conversations involving business, personal, and headaches.

With football broadcasting beginning this week for me, that brings its own collection of challenges, thoughts, and babysitting.

And, oh yeah, I was working all weekend for the Renegades.

So, today, I truly honored Labor Day by doing, basically, nothing.

I slept and I was tired and I kept having the urge to fall asleep.

I watched TV. Me! I watched TV! I watched the Yankees beat the Twins. Then I watched old episodes of "The Office." Then I watched a silly movie.

Oh, there were a few text conversations during the day also about -- guess what?!? -- items related to high school football.

I also ate breakfast and threw something together for dinner. The cupboard is pretty bare otherwise.

As I write, I can only think to myself that this day kinds of sounds sad and boring.

Maybe even pathetic.

But here's how I look at it.

I needed to shut down. My body was telling me that.

I had enough food in the house to be fine for the day. The Cat was also fine and has been my constant companion all day.

I needed to basically allow myself to do nothing but read some nonsense on the internet and watch TV.

I have things to do at WGCH tomorrow. I have multiple podcasts to record later in the week and I need to set up other recording sessions. I need to meet with Chris Hunt to go over the script for the upcoming San Francisco conference. 

Then I need to call Greenwich/Newtown on Friday and, hopefully, a Brunswick scrimmage on Saturday.

The point is the week will be busy enough so I can afford this kind of day. I'm so used to being beaten up with guilt if I'm not hyper-busy with ... something ... that I rarely allow myself this. 

So I didn't clean the kitchen. Well, OK, I did the dishes. 

I didn't vacuum.

I didn't start the project to clean the attic or any other project.

The only project I honored today was this one. 

Yet, even then, I thought about what to write because my mind is empty. I didn't want to dig deep tonight. I needed something easy.

And, despite the brilliance of "Seinfeld," nothing is easiest.

Well, this isn't nothing but it's admittedly not a very in-depth post.

But it's going to do for tonight as the rain begins to fall.

September 4

 

I drove back to Mahopac today on my way to Dutchess Stadium.

I'm still checking on mail at the old house and for any other things that the new owner has found for us.

Parked near the mailbox on the road, I snapped a picture of the house, looking more beaten than ever as changes continue inside the edifice.

Of course, stopping by around 11 a.m. on Sept 4 will add a certain level of poignancy for it was Sept 4, 2020, when my mother passed.

I stood in the driveway that morning for what seemed like hours and, I suppose, it was. There was much to do and much waiting as well. So much of that day will forever be in my brain. There is so much I'd like to forget.

Two years later, Mom is obviously missed and with time, missed even a little more. Negatives become points of laughter and positives are amplified.

But, after these two years, I also look back and realize how hellacious it all was. Time also allows for that. We -- my sister and I -- just tried to survive and live in the moment but it was difficult. 

First, obviously, was Mom's passing. Then came what's next. Then came reality. Then came everything else.

It's over now. Yet, is it really?

The answer is sort of "no" as there are still things to clean up. Things that still appear in that mailbox.

So today is about reflection before baseball at Dutchess Stadium. 

We can all still hear her laugh. It's probably the first thing that people say to me when they recall her.

Her laugh. Her sense of humor.

And how it felt like everyone wanted her to adopt them.

But today is also about reflecting and it will take some time before I get past not only Sept 4 but Sept 3 when I took her to a couple of doctor's appointments.

She was gone just hours later, causing one of those doctors to call me in shock.

I look back with the realization that we knew time -- again, time -- was ticking away that summer. How she had to be at Sean's graduation and his party a few weeks later. How she had to be at her granddaughter's wedding that summer of COVID near Albany. How she seemed to have the time of her life and looked wonderful.

She was doing things on her terms. She'd have it no other way.

It felt like she'd given her all upon departing the wedding in August. 

Less than two weeks later she was gone.

Today -- and this post -- isn't about what happened after she died. Maybe those tales can be told one day.

So, stopping by the house this morning intensified the memories that were already slamming into me.

Memories of that last day. Memories of things she said and texted me that night.

The memory of seeing her in her recliner.

The conversations and phone calls. 

And the waiting.

Waiting for the ambulance.

For the police.

For the funeral home.

For the inevitable.

After everyone had left, I returned to the living room where I put things back in order.

Just as I did late in the evening of March 17, 1989, when I came home to find that same living room in a weird state.

Both parents are gone.

Both passing in the same place.

You're missed, Mom but I guarantee you this world would drive you just as nuts -- if not more -- than the world you left on Sept 4, 2020.

*****

Thanks to the great game of baseball for giving me a few hours to not think about any of the above. The Renegades' home season has come to a close and, barring any playoff games, my work there is finished for now.

I'll do a playoff game if they make it.

Perhaps I can write a post about all of that once it's officially over but I'm grateful to baseball for being a respite from the world.

Football begins on Friday for me.

The Stranger at the Scrimmage

 

In some ways, there is one place where everything that I am as a sports broadcaster started: Cardinal Stadium in Greenwich, CT.

I was back there today for the first time this season and the first time since I moved to Greenwich.

The occasion was a scrimmage between the Cardinals of Greenwich High and a very good Somers Tuskers team from New York.

Shout out to Westchester County. Somers, of course, is just across the county line from a little ol' place called Mahopac.

So, yeah, I wanted to stop by.

I'm not worried about the result and neither was the scoreboard. That's because it wasn't turned on. To my count, Somers won the scrimmage but it's more about how a team looks. I'll leave that up to Cardinals coach Anthony Morello and his team. Whatever needs fixing will need to be addressed before next Friday at 7 p.m. when they visit Newtown.

That game can be heard on WGCH Radio (1490 am). I don't know about any video/LocalLive plans yet.

As always, things change when dealing with high school sports. Families change. Players change. Sometimes coaches change.

Most of the time, broadcasters don't. Still, the Greenwich football broadcaster sat quietly outside of the booth he used last year following the fancy upgrade to Cardinal Stadium.

I peered into that booth, hoping that Chris Erway and I would be back in there in a few weeks.

There's a sense of nostalgia every time I'm back in Cardinal Stadium. I'm transported back to 2000 and that first game against Norwalk and many games that I've called since then.

"Sean's Hill"

I looked towards the flagpole which will always sit on "Sean's Hill" because that's where Sean had to go so I knew where he was when he accompanied me to games.

I realize I can no longer claim the title of "Voice of Greenwich High School Sports" but I guess I still have a hold on Greenwich football, no matter how much I wonder about that.

To be quite sure, it's fair to say I'm "Voice of Brunswick Sports" now as the Bruins have welcomed me with open arms, handing every game to me, and, no question, I'll be there as much as possible. So I mean no disrespect to Wick when I head over to GHS or vice versa.

I had called games before starting with Greenwich Football but I felt like I had taken on a prestigious gig when I finally did take over calling the Cardinals. Broadcasting Greenwich -- the defending state champions at that time -- was different.

The stadium looks nothing like it did 22 years ago. The stadium project has brought it to a new level but, beyond that, there weren't even lights or turf back in 2000. All games were played on Saturdays at 1:30 on grass.

1:20 pregame show, of course.

So while I didn't talk to anyone, I sat and took it all in. I stayed until it was clear the varsity was done and quietly slipped away.

A mom commented to me as we headed towards the parking lot, thinking I was someone else. My look -- gray t-shirt and khaki shorts -- was similar to the person she thought she was chatting up.

"Somers fan?" she asked.

"Nah. I'm the Greenwich broadcaster," I said.

Her mouth was slightly agape at realizing the soul she was walking and talking with, blissfully passing time talking about the weather.

"Wait," she said. "What's your name? Oh, don't tell me..."

Introductions took place and then she said something that rang important to me. She told me that she had just laid my picture out in the 2022 Greenwich Football Program.

Dutchess Stadium lit up before fireworks

With that, we wished each other well and went in our separate ways. I needed to drive the five strenuous minutes back to the apartment before heading toward Dutchess Stadium.

It's a long commute!

But that's when it hit me. Chris Erway and I are in the program.

We're back for 2022 at Greenwich.

I'm just waiting for the official word from Newtown about booth space but, otherwise, kickoff is at 7 p.m.

6:50 pregame show.

Of course.

Two, Wait, Three Games

 

A nice September sky and the vista around Dutchess Stadium

Tonight began the final stretch of Renegades' regular season games for me.

I was scheduled for tonight and Sunday.

So it was all good but they're also in a bit of a crunch as many of the college students that they've relied on for staffing have gone back to school.

Some -- my child -- go to school locally so he's available.

But there was the matter of tomorrow's game and, when it was proposed to me, I figured why not add one more game?

So I'll be there all weekend.

I might not even do public address announcing. I might be truly behind the scenes and off-microphone.

If that's what they needed, well, I'll give that a shot.

Sean was happy to hear that I'd be around for all three games and, as a father, what else do I need to hear?

Yes, the miles driven will be a drag and of course, hotel prices are obnoxious so that's not even an option.

But it's time spent with family, friends, and baseball. 

Isn't that me?

Tonight was quite a night, with a national anthem singer who struggled with the words. She had a beautiful voice but, well, it happens. She stopped her first try, apologized, and started over. Then her brain locked on the second attempt. Soon, everyone in the stadium -- fans, players, umpires, support staff, and even the public address announcer, was joining in. It was actually pretty cool.

Friendly and mischievous

Then I had a raccoon climbing out the PA booth window at one point but, oh yeah, that's just our beloved Rascal (not to be confused with Rascal The Cat).

I'm also starting to dig in deeper on the rapidly approaching football season. I'm updating schedules and making sure we're ready. If I haven't said so already, we are coming back with Greenwich football on WGCH.

Brunswick football will have my voice on it again via LocalLive.

Of course, audio of the games will also run quietly on Robcasting. 

At this point, it's been over a month since I've called a game so I'll be jumpy come next Friday.

There's so much to do and, according to the schedule, Greenwich has a scrimmage tomorrow at Cardinal Stadium.

That seems like a good chance to go check-in.

That is before I go to Dutchess Stadium.

I figure I can chill out on Monday.

Maybe.

Still Radio Gaga After All These Years

 

The Majic 105 air studio

I was teaching today at CSB when a realization raced into my noodle.

I began my own odyssey in broadcasting -- as a CSB grad -- 32 years ago tonight.

I wanted to be on the air today to touch on all of this but a miscommunication led to confusion and, as such, no room for me on WGCH. We'll get 'em next time (likely next week).

With a new pair of headphones, I drove to Majic 105 (WMJV-FM) in Patterson and got my nerves under control for my first radio shift.

My show began at midnight, thus my official "start date" will always be Sept 2, 1990.

Six hours and too much caffeine later, it was over. It wasn't sports but music and, most of all, it was broadcasting. I was on the air. I could say I was a professional even if I was a raw amateur that night.

It would take time to get acclimated and understand the politics of the business. It would take practice to truly be professional (I'm still trying).

But my foot was in the door and it would stay there until I was out just under a year later. Honestly, for a few years, I wasn't sure if I'd go back but opportunity eventually brought me back -- first at WREF in Ridgefield and then to that Greenwich radio station that I joined in 1997.

And here we are. From Majic to WREF to WGCH to a whole bunch of other stations both terrestrial and online.

The friends and experiences have all been magical.

Sure, I wanted to conquer the world beginning with Majic 105. But the broadcasting life can also be difficult for the things I wanted personally. For me to do what I really wanted, I would have needed to relocate to far-off places.

I would have had to leave my family and the relationships I had here.

My point? I don't think I'd be the dad that I am and that has always been important to me. So, what I'm saying is that I made decisions based on the quality of life versus the sheer pursuit of money and fame and whatever else.

I think I made the right call despite all hiccups that have occurred along the way.

To that end, Oswald Peraza was called up to the major leagues tonight. He is now a New York Yankee. He had been at Scranton/Wilkes-Barre in AAA ball. You might recall that he was at Hudson Valley last year and was a huge success before being promoted to AA.

Much like I've celebrated the "I saw him when" of John Sullivan and the many high school, college, and minor league athletes I've covered that made it to the pro tanks, I'm enormously proud to say that I called Peraza's home games for the Renegades last season. I was simply blown away by him and figured it was just a matter of time before he'd get his chance.

I await Anthony Volpe's chance as well along with many others. 

It's especially wonderful -- back to quality of life decisions -- to share this news with Sean who also saw Peraza through his camera last year. That's a connection we'll always be able to appreciate, just as we've discussed other players that have jumped to the big leagues or have made news. We got to see them all at one time.

I texted Sean as soon as I heard about Peraza's call-up and he had heard the news also since he was at Dutchess Stadium. He said he wants to go see Peraza play in The Bronx and I think that's a pretty great idea as well. 

And so as I sit here and reflect on the literally thousands of broadcasting appearances I've made (I used to track all of them), my mind goes back to that scared 21-year-old sitting in the tan Chevy Cavalier in the parking lot of Majic 105/WPUT radio.

He was scared and so full of excitement. 

He was also wide-eyed and ready for the experience.

He also had no idea what he was getting himself into.

Since then? Stories. Laughs. Experiences. Good. Bad.

History.

A voice.

I started doing a sports report a few months into my time at Majic 105. It would be years before I'd finally get to doing play-by-play and I was completely smitten when it happened.

That started with softball and then, finally, baseball and football and hockey and basketball and on and on.

Football returns next week and I look forward to it.

I always tell my students that an early goal of mine was to make the money back in broadcasting that I'd paid to go to the Connecticut School of Broadcasting from 1989-1990. I wanted -- at the very least -- to break even.

I've long-surpassed that goal.

I didn't need to rule the world. I've loved the experiences that I've lived and have been able to relay to you.

Thanks, as always, for riding along with me as I've tried to inform and entertain you.

Year 33 in this wacky business begins at midnight.

I'll be on WGCH tomorrow morning at 7:50 to talk sports with Tony Savino. Maybe Peraza will come up. Maybe not.

I'll be at Dutchess Stadium tomorrow night where I'll see Sean.

I can't think of a better way to keep moving.

The Serena Factor

 

(Photo: Getty/CBS Sports)

It was a New York event.

Oh, I'm not talking about Mets/Dodgers at Citi Field, though that was a dandy also.

No, let's face it, the Serena Williams Show at Arthur Ashe Stadium is the event in the event town.

You've probably heard that Serena is "evolving away from tennis," meaning that she will likely retire after the US Open at the USTA Billie Jean King National Tennis Center.

That's all New York needs to hear. The celebrities are out and the tickets are gone and the attention is intense.

Tonight, in the second round, she played Anett Kontaveit and Serena took care of her 7-6, 2-6, 6-2.

I felt for Kontaveit. 

Heck, I'll feel for any opponent now because they're not only playing Williams but they're playing an incredibly loud, supportive crowd. 

And, if I'm being fair, they're playing against the broadcast as well.

Oh, don't get me wrong, I have a ton of respect for Chris Fowler, Chris Evert, and John McEnroe. Not only that but I love listening to them.

But they're completely rooting for Serena and I suppose it's fair to ask if you can blame them.

Still, I find my brain spinning to how wonderful it would be to hear another voice calling this.

Sure, Dick Enberg or Pat Summerall would be wonderful but, oh, who am I kidding?

Vin Scully. Perfect.

Now it would be the right voice because he's Vin but there's more.

That roar of the crowd would be even more pronounced because Vin would let it sound out. He learned it while listening to college football in his family apartment in the 1930s and 40s in Manhattan.

I can just imagine how Vin would simply describe Serena as "The Queen of Queens" and then lay out and let the sound drown everything else out.

It would be magnificent.

That's not to say the ESPN crew of Fowler, Evert, and McEnroe were poor in this regard. No, they added to it but heaped praise on Williams and added to the majesty of what they had witnessed.

Serena moves into the third round but also has a doubles match with big sister Venus next.

If you are a contrarian or just don't like the attention in these spots, the Serena love-fest will quickly become overkill.

If you can simply enjoy greatness then settle in for a fun ride.

I've watched a fair share of tennis but I can't say I'm any kind of expert. So in determining who the "GOAT" is I simply don't know. I mentioned that on "Doubleheader" today and I mean no disrespect to Williams. I assume Serena is the best ever but I also remember the dominance of Steffi Graf and Martina Navratilova along with several others.

Obviously, no harm is intended. Serena is simply magnificent and this New York event will continue to play out.

If you're interested, join the ride. If not, just ignore it.

It's hard to not respect it.

Here Comes the Rain Again

 

Welp.

That's it. That's sort of all I've got.

When you work in sports -- especially baseball -- the weather inevitably plays a part and it was lingering around to dampen the evening at Dutchess Stadium.

Now, the thing to recognize is weather can have a multifaceted impact. It can rain and postpone a game while I'm in transit, thus turning me around or keeping me from going at all (this is the desired outcome).

Or you can get to the stadium/field and, well, anything goes from there.

Now the weather can affect the game with the wind moving the ball around or the air being heavy or there can be heat, sun glare, yada yada...

We gathered at Dutchess Stadium tonight to begin the last six games of the regular season. The Jersey Shore BlueClaws were in town.

And we all speculated.

"It might hit us around 6:45."

"There's a cell that might pass us."

"We're going to get delayed."

Joe Ausanio prepares to throw out the first pitch

Yet, despite some wind, the game began as normal. It was Joe Ausanio bobblehead doll night as the Hudson Valley product and one-time New York Yankee was honored.

Joe was my boss last year and was a proponent of my calling Renegades games back in 2019. I'll always be grateful for his support.

So it was a normal night in the ballpark. The ball was flying out as the air got heavier and the wind blew out.

Through four innings, the Renegades had a 4-3 lead.

The wind began to kick up as the crew in the PA booth -- me, Feldman, Davey, and R&D -- monitored the weather radar.

We needed to get through five innings for the game to be official since the BlueClaws threw four runs up in the top of the fifth.

Right before the bottom of the fifth, we noticed the umpires huddling with the grounds crew. That meant they were looking at the radar also.

Within seconds, the rain began.

They tried to play on.

No dice. The dirt portions of the field (the mound and the plate) needed to be covered and we went into a delay.

The crew tried -- pushing the water that had accumulated. They tried to get home plate and the pitcher's mound back into shape. Just one problem: the ran wouldn't let up.

By 9:20, the game was officially suspended. They'll continue tomorrow at 5pm and complete the game with the Claws leading the Gades, 7-4.

I, however, am not scheduled to work, so I won't be there. So it goes.

I climbed in the car and dragged myself back to Greenwich.

If you want to work in sports these are the kinds of things that will happen. We all have stories.

I recall once driving to Ridgefield for basketball, only to be told that the game had been postponed. Nobody bothered to announce it anywhere so it was a matter of bad communication.

It happens.

So, here I am, having gotten through 4.5 innings of baseball.

I didn't get a bobblehead but Joe Ausanio signed a Yankees mini helmet for me. It was great to see him for a few minutes and I enjoyed watching him interact with fans. He seemed to really enjoy himself and he deserved that.

But there's the empty feeling of nothing completed.

It will finish tomorrow night, and they'll go on and play the regular game as scheduled.

I'll be back there on Friday.

Willie Mays

 

So, "Say Hey?"

The New York Mets held their first Old Timer's Day in years on Saturday at Citi Field.

In the Mets' style, it was low-key and nobody knew about it.

Ha.

No, they promoted it relentlessly as they should and drummed up a fantastic interest in what appeared to be a great event.

Now -- being honest and all -- I saw none of it live. I saw things on social media. I saw some video and pictures and read a lot of stuff.

Those who made it brought a special day to the field and, being further honest, they blew the Yankees -- masters of Old Timer's Day, out of the water with a great lineup of former Mets as well as actually playing a fun game.

Plus they added a surprise: the retirement of uniform number 24, once worn by Willie Mays.

If you don't know, Willie only played two years with the Mets. He was traded to the "Amazin's" in 1972 and stayed until the end of the 1973 season. He retired after that.

It was a lovely reunion, bringing Mays back to where he started his career. Willie -- always "The Say Hey Kid" -- began with the New York Giants. He won Rookie of the Year in 1951, played part of '52 and missed all of '53 due to military duty. He won an MVP and a World Series ring in 1954 and was a superstar as the Giants left for San Francisco after 1957. Mays stayed a giant among Giants through the first half of the 60s and began to look a little more human as the decade wore on.

By the time he came to Shea Stadium in May, 1972, he was 41 years old.

The other pieces of "Willie, Mickey, and the Duke" of "Talkin' Baseball" fame had long since departed the game.

Mays with the Giants

Willie was a mortal as a member of the Mets, hitting .238 with the final 14 home runs of the 660 he amassed. He is also, sadly, is remembered for stumbling in the outfield in the 1973 World Series against Oakland. That's unfair because of a very rough sky in Game 2 of the '72 Classic but history isn't fair.

It was a far cry from the guy who made perhaps the most memorable catch in Fall Classic history, his breathtaking grab of Vic Wertz's long drive at the Polo Grounds off the bat of Vic Wertz of Cleveland in 1954.

So, with all of that said, why did the Mets retire Mays' number, which already hangs beloved in San Francisco?

A promise, apparently, made by former Mets (and one-time Giants part-owner) Joan Payson. Mrs. Payson -- the first majority owner of a pro sports franchise in the US -- was instrumental in bringing Mays back to New York and promised him that nobody would wear number 24 again.

Sadly, Mrs. Payson died in 1975 and the promise sat unfulfilled until Saturday. While 24 wasn't routinely handed out, a few did wear the treasured digits. 

The number is now out of commission.

There's been some outrage since Saturday. Those defending the move say it spoke to honoring Mrs. Payson's wishes. It is also to acknowledge what Mays meant to New York baseball during its golden years. It's hard to argue any of that.

It's also hard to argue with critics who say that Mays is a Giant (true) and his time as a Met wasn't stellar (true). Further, critics say that maybe the Braves should retire Babe Ruth's number three since The Bambino played for the Braves (then in Boston) in 1935.

That's not going to happen however the Mays retirement sits more parallel to the Brewers hanging up Hank Aaron's number 44. Hammerin' Hank played for the Brew Crew in 1975-76, returning to the city where he had glory as a member of, yep, the Braves.

You probably know I'm tough when it comes to retiring numbers and oh my was I ready to light the Mets up for this.

Yet, I simply don't have a big problem with it. If Mets owner Steve Cohen thinks honoring Mrs. Payson's wishes is the way to go then I will lose no sleep over it. The fan base seemed to love it and it added a poignant note to the events of Saturday at Citi Field.

Willie Mays is a top-five talent. Probably second behind a certain Mr. Ruth. 

I have a hard time criticizing the Mets for this move despite my own standards on number retirements.

So, "Say Hey?"

Say Hey indeed.

A Quarter of a Year

He bathes while I write

 How have three months flown by already?

Yes, three months. Rascal and I (and occasionally Sean) have lived in our Greenwich apartment for three months.

Like, how?

Oh, it hasn't all been peachy. We've had a few hiccups and will continue to. I mean, that's life, isn't it?

Because of my role in the process of moving forward, I still serve as point man for a lot of things. Also, because I still frequent the Hudson Valley, I wind up back in Mahopac occasionally.

Such as tonight.

I handled the public address announcing for the last game of the Renegades hosting the Hickory Crawdads and headed for the exit. I still roll to Mahopac to check any remaining mail issues at the old house (there were a few).

Mostly it's junk mail though I'm told the new owner found some pictures in the house that are of me and related to me. They weren't there when I dropped by tonight but it's fine. It was hardly an inconvenience to drive by. I continue to marvel at what's happening with the old house and what it will look like when it's all done.

I also needed dinner and, let's face it, I know my food options in that area pretty well. I knew I could grab pizza at Peppino's so that's what I opted for.

From there, I cruised down towards Greenwich, passing by Brunswick to glance towards the football field where I'll soon be back calling games.

Oh yeah, Greenwich High School also, but one thing at a time here.

Upon parking the car at home, I made my way upstairs and I could hear the piercing meow of Rascal. He greeted me at the door as he frequently does.

There's a reason his primary alternate name is "Squeaky."

He soon settled down -- he's at my feet right now -- as I'm trying to wrestle with how far things have come in these three months.

I moved in full of excitement and nerves. And, of course, boxes everywhere. When I finished the move after everyone was gone on May 24, I made sure that I could sleep in the place. My bed was clear. Beyond that and making sure the cat was OK, I cared about nothing else.

That first night -- May 25 -- was a night of little sleep and a lot of "What have I done?" That being said, I've never regretted this move. Far from it.

There are still decorations that aren't up yet and a few bins that I haven't put in the attic yet but when I'm asked if we're settled in, the answer is a firm "yes."

We're lucky to be here and I know that. This was a stroke of good fate for all of us. The area has been comfortable and the adjustment hasn't been bad. But I also see horror stories that people are dealing with in finding housing lately and it's very concerning. I'm so glad we ultimately didn't go through that.

I continue to get emails from the agents I worked with. I look at them for the fun of it. I want to see what's out there in the rental market. As it was a few months ago, it's still troubling how many places won't take pets.

We call Rascal "The Beast" but he's really not. He's sort of a clumsy goofball but his squeaking is either about food or attention. He gets plenty of both.

But I've enjoyed just sitting on the balcony listening to the rumble of life and sitting in the living room watching TV. I've relished kicking back in my bedroom as traffic and people move past. I've read and hosted talk shows and worked and created podcasts and written and written and written ... 

I've sat at our Ikea kitchen table and eaten bowls of cereal and slices of pizza and chicken parm that I've made* with some spaghetti.

* Let's be clear: I picked up the chicken parm at Wegmans. I don't apologize.

We now begin to look a new season in the eye. Next up, I'll start to go to Greenwich and Brunswick and anywhere else I'm needed with a whole new eye on the commute. Wick is maybe 15 minutes with traffic while Cardinal Stadium is five minutes away.

Hunt Scanlon is also probably five minutes away and I'll be needed there soon for a conference. I'll also need to commute with them to an airport to go San Francisco.

And I'll need to get to road games. The commute from Mahopac was much different than having to account for scuffles with Interstate 95 and the Merritt Parkway. 

In short: blech.

But this is my life now (or for now). I'm hoping the routine will continue to settle down and life will simply find its own rhythm.

The kids returning to school means things will change a bit and that I'll see a lot less of Sean. That's a bummer, of course, but I can see the positive in all of that also.

I'm ready for the cooler temperatures and interested to see what that will be like in our home.

Guests are welcome here but we really don't have a lot of seating! And you'll have to ignore some of the stuff still on the floor. It's our home and we're good with it.

We're happy.

We're content.

Listen Live at Your Own Peril

 

I'm listening to a broadcast of a sporting event right now.

You see, here's the thing about play-by-play: it's not brain surgery.

It's literally a job that involves reporting. It requires accuracy. It involves explaining and enlightening and even educating. It also involves a little entertaining.

The best -- in my opinion -- combine those fundamentals with excellent storytelling and a pleasant personality.

But, again, it's a reporting job.

This broadcast lacks that.

You see, in our current world, there are many broadcasts that I would call a hybrid. It's on video, sure, but there's also an audio element. Much like I did with the Renegades last year and I'm always doing on Local Live (because there's usually a Robcasting simulcast).

So my goal is to report the details, If it's baseball -- which, not surprisingly, what I'm listening to -- then it's pitch location, defensive setup, where the ball is hit, etc. All of these details matter. You're creating an image in the mind of your listener. Yes, your TV/video stream viewer can likely see that but you've got to keep the audio listeners in mind.

And anything on the field or about the team isn't "we" to me. Or "us." The only "we" and "us" are things like if I've traveled with the team to a site: "We were on the bus today to start the trip just before noon."

But there's such a perverse desire to be edgy and viral and it hurts the details.

Anyone can handle the viral moments. They can handle the highlights. It's the mundane that I want to hear. Can you call the game, provide the details, be engaging, and not make it about yourself?

Then you might be of interest.

What I'm listening to is full of things I teach students to not do: fake voice, minimal details, "we" and "us," and not speaking clearly and concisely.

Everything screams "listen to me! I'm funny! I'm likable!"

A strike out should be simple: "Swung on and missed and he's down on strikes. One out in the ninth."

Instead, it's "Get 'em outta here, bay beee."

The analyst tried to eventually chime in but as that happened the next batter drove a ball to the outfield that was picked off. 

Don't ask me which outfielder. I couldn't tell you.

Be clear. Be concise.

Don't exaggerate.

Don't be too colloquial. These players aren't necessarily your friends. This is still, after all, your vocation. That's what a broadcaster is supposed to be, in theory. It's supposed to be a job.

The tying run is now at the plate after a wild pitch brought in a run. At least I think that's what happened. 

But, seconds later, a fly ball was lifted to end the game. Again, I think so.

"We win. We had the game's only error but it didn't come back to bite us."

"We" win.

Listeners lose.

Instead of blocking anyone who criticizes you (guess what? It's going to get blazing hot if you keep climbing that ladder) maybe accept the criticism of peers and be better as a result.

As an industry, we want to root for you. 

Make it easier for us to do that.

But, for now?

Get out of here bay beee.

38 Minutes

 

It was 11:22 p.m. when I walked into the apartment.

Another Renegades game was in the books. They won, though they held on to do so. I was, er, OK, but nothing special. I don't expect anyone to ever praise my public address announcing abilities and I get that.

But I had not sat down to write anything and, even driving home, topics escaped me.

What worries me is that I'm repeating things. I liked last night's post about the nerdy statistics but am fairly certain I've written something about that before.

Sure, a writer always wants to tell the stories even if that means telling them again but, especially in the digital age, isn't that what an archive is for?

All 3,684 posted essays (including this one) exist in their glory (or lack thereof) on both the Blogger and WordPress platforms. 

Yet, still, who am I really hurting if I repeat things? That means giving the stories new life sometimes and that's not so bad.

So, here I sit, babbling about this while licking my wounds at a sparsely read post about a topic that isn't going to interest a large group.

I get in a rhythm and hit certain things. Lately, it's all about travel. It will turn to something else with that something quite possibly being high school football or broadcasting as we're getting closer to hitting the air again.

Not soon enough for my taste.

So this is where my brain is with just 26 precious minutes remaining until a new day. If I want to keep this foolish post-per-day streak going then I better wrap up and press the publish button.

And with that, I feel just exhausted so I will close.

Not all posts are lined with gold.

The Travel Numbers

 

I wonder what formulas they'd come up with about my travel data

So I got my "nerd" on tonight.

Sean calls me a nerd -- lovingly, of course -- in regard to my faithful compiling of mileage and times in a little notebook that I keep with me on many road trips.

They contain chicken scratch handwriting of basic facts as we move along. Normally it's the mileage per the odometer followed by the time of day and then the site. So...

385.5/12:46 -- Richmond.

A certain level of understanding then climbs into play. That's 385.5 miles since we left Greenwich and it's 12:46 p.m. In terms of "where" in Richmond, it's almost always the City Limits sign on I-95 southbound just north of Exit 79.

Now, if it's coming northbound, well, that's generally the James River Bridge that I'll use but I'll add a note if necessary.

From there, those numbers are faithfully entered into a spreadsheet that I've dutifully created that dates back to the early 90s...when I used to go to Richmond.

I add in the data for each stop so that I can calculate how long the drive would be without stops.

Now, I understand this isn't rocket science. It's literally not possible to go from Greenwich to Fayetteville, NC in my car on one tank of gas so of course a stop is necessary. But it's still fun (for me) to calculate all of this.

For those asking, why? I'll tell you that I do actually look back at these numbers in part to occupy my mind but also to give me a bit of a benchmark. I'm not actively trying to beat these numbers but give my brain an idea of what is reasonable.

This year, without stops (yes, it's impossible) it would have taken us 9:11. That does not top 2018's 9:01 but it's still a pretty good time. Still, we were in the car for almost 12 hours total, meaning we took up a bit of time taking breaks. 

Yes. Necessary breaks, for those who think I don't stop.

The return trip numbers are really muddy thanks to us driving to Newark, DE and spending the weekend in and around Philadelphia. That, for one thing, added some 400 extra miles to the trip though I knew that was going to happen.

In fact, we drove 1,857 miles total from Greenwich to Hamer, SC and then to Florence, SC before turning to near Fayetteville, NC. Then around Fayetteville and up to Newark, DE. Then to Philadelphia and back to Newark. Then back to Philadelphia and bouncing into New Jersey before returning to Chester, PA. Then, finally, back to Greenwich.

So, yeah, I can see how it was nearly 2,000 miles round trip. 

They're miles and hours I'm not going to complain about. At all.

For me, it was a bit different. I haven't really uploaded many pictures yet (other than what you've seen so far on the blog or social media). In truth, I didn't take that many. I'm grateful to Mr. Roadway Wiz himself (Dan) and others for posting pictures from the big Philly gathering.

For once, I didn't live through the camera on my phone and I'm not judging anyone who did. Like I said, I'm grateful to those who did take a lot of pictures.

As I told Sean during the weekend, I'd reach a point where I'd want to be back on the road. I predicted by Wednesday.

I was ready on Tuesday.

Football will give me some driving. Fall always does.

No regrets. A great time was had and, once again, I honored the tradition of pulling these numbers together that I enjoy mining for such data.

I'll look back and be reminded of the slow traffic in northern Virginia or the Wawa we stopped at that really didn't like (I won't say which location). Or I'll be reminded of something else.

All good because we experienced it.

This is how I derive pleasure from a road trip.

To each their own. If that makes me a nerd then I gladly accept the title.

Proudly.

National Waffle Day

 

I know that I've become associated with waffles over the years.

So, why? 

Why waffles?

The obvious answer, of course, is my connection (and, some would say, obsession) with Waffle House. Yes, laugh all you want but it's become a father/son bond for us (even if we ever go without each other). 

Still, why?

Like anything else, I'm particular about my waffles. Oh, don't get me wrong, I appreciate a nice Belgian waffle. 

But what made Waffle House my go-to was that it had the waffle. Per Wikipedia, the "American Waffle" is "generally denser and thinner than the Belgian waffle." That, waffle friends, is a fairly accurate description. The Waffle House waffle felt lighter and, dare I say, more tender. Floppier.

So while I have an appreciation for all waffles, the Waffle House waffle was it, so much so that I'd nag my father to go to Waffle House for it. The location I often think of in regards to dragging my dad and family there (no wonder I'm so hated) has apparently closed permanently.

Google Street View, 2019

I recall it being 1975. I would have just turned seven. It was in Tarpon Springs, FL. Per google, it's permanently closed.

While I can pour some syrup out for the departed location, let me honestly say I haven't been there since 1975 and there are myriad locations that I've visited since. There are also 20 locations within an hour of Tarpon Springs.

Maybe my next chapter in life is to reopen that Waffle House at 40084 US 19 N and become the "voice" (blech) of the Tarpon Springs Spongers. I can relocate Robcasting there!

No, really, Tarpon Springs High School's mascot is the Sponger, reflecting the Sponge Docks and the culture surrounding the sponge trade.

And I'm sure they have a broadcaster so literally, none of this idea is real. I'm still a broadcaster for the Bruins, Cardinals, and ... 

OK, I'm getting sidetracked. Back to waffles.

To that end, to honor National Waffle Day, I didn't have a fluffy, delicious Waffle House waffle today. Nor did I make any. Nor did I go to a diner or establishment nearby.

No. 

I made frozen waffles. I put some excellent syrup on them and even a little powdered sugar. 

Then, I ate.

There were no covered hashbrowns or scrambled eggs with cheese or country ham or white toast or grits or anything else.

There were just these small, frozen waffles and they were quite sufficient.

Now, realizing this is waffle day, I'll still go ahead and tell you that I also like pancakes and lots of other breakfast delights (always cereal or an egg and cheese sandwich). But, I'm a waffles guy.

Happy National Waffle Day.

Eat up and enjoy!

A Belgian waffle. Compare that to the Waffle House one at the top of the page!

Be Done With It

 

I was back at Dutchess Stadium tonight as the Renegades hosted the Hickory Crawdads for the first time.

Have you ever had a night that wasn't bad but wasn't right either?

That was tonight.

A Tuesday night crowd saw a 3-2 Crawdads victory and, to be honest, it was kind of a snooze.

Things were just ... off.

That's not to say the games weren't fun or that we had a bad time in the booth.

Oh, we laughed and behaved in our normal manner.

But something was missing.

Things were flat. That's the only word I have for it.

Personally, I couldn't read the script tonight to save my life.

Don't get me wrong. This isn't an effort to get pity nor should there be any concern. It was just "one of those nights," I guess.

I still laughed and had some fun and was happy to see Sean but there was a feeling of needing to dust this one off and forget about it.

There are only a handful of games left in the 2022 home season so the Gades have to get things straight if they're going to be a playoff team.

As for the rest of us, meh. Just get them next time, I guess.

The next time for me is Friday. By my count, I have five more games left before the home season ends.

I've had fun with it and have seen where I can embrace my inner public address announcer. Still, I'm not ready to write a requiem for things just yet.

This one is in the books. I've put a ribbon on it.

Let's move on to the next one.

Turning the Dial

 

One of the most important parts of a car, especially on a road trip, is the entertainment system.

Sure, I can rely on my phone for streaming or to play my own library or even CDs (!), but I tend to lean most of all on an old friend: the radio.

It was also National Radio Day this past Saturday, for what it's worth.

Now, admittedly, I do have satellite radio and I'm not afraid to use it. I tend to go with The Beatles Channel, First Wave (classic alternative), and 80s on 8 as my go-to channels.

I have a few others as well though I'll also flip the dial a bit. As you've probably come to understand, I'm particular and not a big fan of repetition.

"If it's overplaying it's not stayin'" should be my motto.

But, while satellite can be reliable it's also 100% true that it's not local at all. As a result, I spin the dial quite a bit on both the FM and AM bands.

The one thing I didn't want was network stuff. I can get that basically anywhere. What I wanted to hear was trule local stuff. I wanted to hear the news and the commercials and the sports and topical talk.

As you can imagine, that's tough to find in 2022, but not impossible.

I also know what stations to lean on. There's a good 80s station near Fredericksburg, VA. There are a couple of good options in Richmond. There's a decent rock station out of Raleigh that I go to. And there are the news/traffic standbys: KYW in Philadelphia and WTOP (Vin Scully's first professional radio job) in Washington.

For a stretch as I rolled up I-95, I listened to "Good Morning Fayetteville" with New York-bred Goldy on WFNC (640 AM). I'd actually listened to Goldy during coverage of a couple of the big weather events down there. Given I have family that I'm close to right outside of Fayetteville, I like being able to keep tabs on the area and listening to that online is a good way to do so.

So Goldy, a radio vet who spent a lot of time in Washington, D.C. was a good way to go until I lost WFNC's signal. Sadly, there weren't more stations or shows like that as we drove.

Fortunately, Sean wears headphones almost exclusively as we drive, keeping things where he can hear me if I'm saying something to him. Otherwise, those headphones keep him from hearing the playlist of The Beatles and whatever New Wave bands were interesting me on satellite. He also doesn't hear my quick trigger style that moves off a station within a note or two of a song.

For us in radio, that personal touch is the answer to intriguing listeners. I love broadcasting sports. You know that. But it's also the thing that brings so many to the radio. 

Little of that could be found among the dreck political talk and screaming sports talk (present company not included in this case) and other stuff that had me rolling my eyes.

What I listen to -- or don't listen to  -- is one of the most important parts of road culture for me. It keeps me entertained as well as engaged. I'm generally not a fan of silence but, sometimes, it gets so bad that being quiet is the only option. 

Fortunately, we didn't need to do that.

I didn't get my fill of the local culture on the radio but I got a taste of it along with a reminder that we still have work to do in terms of engaging audiences.

We're Home

 

Getting head-butted for this insane cat.

I turned the car off at 7pm in the driveway.

With that, it was over. I haven't totaled the numbers yet and, to be honest, they don't really matter.

I drove a lot and ate a lot of food that I shouldn't have eaten and caught up with friends and loved ones and friends who have become loved ones and just lived. We paid for a lot of tolls and bought little in the way of souvenirs.

Sean and I spent essentially seven days and nights attached at the hip and didn't kill each other.

We stepped foot or drove in Connecticut, New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Delaware, Maryland, District of Columbia, Virginia, North Carolina, and South Carolina.

We checked off most of what we wanted to check off. We missed only a few things.

I think it was a huge success.

Travel, simply put, is part of who I am. I love the planning and the strategizing and the organizing and the maintenance of it all.

Road trips are in my blood.

The repetition of what we did on this trip was great but there was also some stepping out of the comfort zone that was healthy as well.

As a pleased Rascal, the Squeaky Cat sleeps on my desk, I sit here wondering if this is it. Tonight, my answer is no. If the planets align, Sean will want to do this all over again in 2023.

He later confided to me that he enjoyed some aspects of the road meet in Philadelphia.

Part of being a "road enthusiast" is the study of roads and projects that have been abandoned and/or never completed. A highlight -- something I was looking forward to -- was New Jersey route 324. Only about a mile-and-a-half long, the roadbed once served as US 322 to and from the ferry that carried it across the Delaware River. When the Commodore Barry Bridge opened nearby in 1974, the ferry was closed and US 322 was moved to the bridge.

But, for some reason, New Jersey kept the road in their system, renumbering it as state route 324.

And it has gone mostly untouched since then. So we were able to drive it to the very end, and walk a short distance to the edge of the Delaware River.

Sean told me he enjoyed that also.

Following a return to Pennsylvania, we said our goodbyes and turned for home.

Eventually, the drive became a grind with Sunday afternoon traffic befuddling us, especially through New Jersey into New York.

But, finally, we pulled into the driveway, unloaded the car, and came into a cat that meowed his approval at us for returning as well as his scolding to not do it again.

Which I'll be doing again in September to go to San Francisco.

We'll deal with that soon enough.

Thanks to everyone who supported this journey -- from those who hosted us to that one special, crazy soul who kept an eye on Rascal to all of you who read these diatribes every night.

That encouragement got us to go and it was good for all of us. 

Now? Time to rest in my own bed and get ready for the week.

There was once a time when we'd basically live on Interstate 95 to go to and from Florida but almost not see it again for months after the trip was over. Oh, no. Not now.

It's in my back yard and I'll see it every time I step into the kitchen.

With that, this trip is over but the next adventure awaits.