Cover Me Boys, I'm Going In

Thomas Wolfe, the early 20th century author responsible for novels including Look Homeward Angel and You Can’t Go Home Again, got it wrong.

Reno, Nevada is my home town. I wasn’t born there but my family moved there when a few months before my second birthday. I went to elementary, junior high, high school and college there. I made my first friends there, kissed my first girl there, dragged Main with my buddies for the first time there, got drunk for the first time there, proudly earned my first paycheck there, sheepishly accepted my first traffic ticket there and amazingly became a father for the first time there.

My parents were employed there, then started their own business and employed other people there. They had homes in and around Reno for more than fifty years and our family still has business interests in “The Biggest Little City in the World”. I arrived there in 1957 and left for good in 1983. Life, work, and nostalgia brought me back several times in the more than 30 years between then and now; the last time just this week.

Reno, in the 60’s and 70’s was a great place to grow up. The sky above and the water in the Truckee River, which runs right through the center of town, was crisp and clear and clean. We walked, or rode our bikes, to school, stores, friends and parks. We played outside until, and sometimes, long past dark. You could hop in a car and be at noon and have lunch at Lake Tahoe, then dinner in San Francisco. Gambling was legal and so was prostitution (not that I partook in either as a lad) and there were many days when we would go skiing in the morning then tee it up for 18 holes of golf in the afternoon.

We saw Frank Sinatra, Elvis Presley, Sammy Davis, Jr., Debbie Reynolds, Paul Revere and the Raiders, Diana Ross, Olivia Newton-John, Alan Sherman, Bob Newhart, and so, so many more on showroom stages in casinos around town. We could get steak and eggs for 99 cents as well as a chili cheese omelets at 3 o’clock in the morning. People said please and thank you, hello and goodbye and more often than not they did it with a smile on their face.

I was going to be back in Reno for a couple of days. Our family started and helps fund the Lee D. and Virginia D. Hirshland Scholarship at the University of Nevada.  Al Stavitsky, the Dean and Fred Smith Chair at the Reynolds School of Journalism on campus, was kind enough to facilitate a visit for me with Professor Patrick Fine’s class examining the history of broadcasting. I had personal experience with the subject matter. My parents were part of television history in Reno starting, then managing, KTVN-TV Channel 2 the third network affiliate station in town. I worked there before landing jobs with a national production company and two sports cable networks. I wrote a book about my parents and my life in television and shared some of those stories with the students. Visiting with the dean and the students was exhilarating and enlightening. While it was the reason for the visit it in no way took up all of my time. So I took a trip down memory lane.

I drove by two of our old homes, houses in which our family lived for the majority of time while I was growing up. I stopped at one, rolled down the window of my rental and snapped a photo. Memories flooded back. Christmas eve’s, wrestling matches on the living room floor, racing upstairs to grab the tweezers for my dad while he sat in his favorite chair and timed both of my brothers and me. Family dinners, playing football and baseball in the front yard that then seemed so expansive and now looked so small. As I reminisced the front door to the house opened and two young men emerged. There I sat, in a ruby-red, rented, Chevy Impala, taking pictures of their home. I waved and started to drive away then stopped, parked and got out of the car. I wanted to let them know I wasn’t some weirdo; that I actually grew up in this house, and I did. They were friendly and in understanding and mentioned they were just renting the place. We shook hands and said goodbye and I drove on past the Mortensen’s house and the Garfinkle’s place and the place down the block that gave out nickels on Halloween.

My next stop was the house in which we lived while I was in High School and beyond. It looked mostly the same although the sport court on the side of the house was now a parking space for a recreational vehicle. More memories; this time they included the time I drove home drunk and woke up with my Camaro parked halfway in the street and halfway on the lawn. That was no Bueno and my folks told me so in no uncertain terms. Happier memories included my dad surprising my mom with a new car, with a big bow on top, that he had somehow managed to park in the garage between the time we went to bed then woke up on Christmas morning. No body came out of the house this time and I drove on.

I went past Jessie Beck Elementary, which still seeks to educate Reno’s youth, and the site which once was home to B. D. Billinghurst Junior High, which no longer does. I went to Reno High School (proud to be part of the class of 1973), parked the car and headed inside. In my hand I held the two books I have written (I added a novel, Big Flies, to my resume this year) with the hopes that my alma mater would include them in the school library. I went to the office, signed in, received a hall pass, and headed to where the books were kept. I met Barbara Whiteley, the librarian, and told her my story. She accepted the books with enthusiasm then showed me around. We stopped at a shelf that housed the schools yearbooks and I grabbed a copy of the Re-Wa-Ne from 1973. There was Dave Hill and Joe Bradley, Rich Jameson, Mark Rose and Scott Russell, Cathy Poncia, Tom Casazza, Joni Churchfield and other familiar names and faces. Great people, good times I thought and meant it.

From there I went to the Washoe County Golf Course, where I spent too much time as a kid and the Washoe County Library where I spent too little time. I stopped by Sundance Music and Books and was thrilled to see Big Flies upstairs on the shelves of the “Mystery and Suspense” section. At my downtown Reno hotel I ran into Glenn Carano. He, along with his twin brother Gene, and I were classmates at Billinghurst Junior High. After that I went to Reno High while they went to arch-rival Wooster where Glenn became an all-state athlete. He went on to play quarterback at the University of Nevada-Las Vegas and then the Dallas Cowboys in the NFL. We caught up, as much as you can in a hotel lobby, said how great it was to see each other, and it was, and then I was off again to see some more old friends.

It was a small group of former KTVN employees who had reconnected mostly thanks to the wonders of Facebook. Men who I owed a great deal, had for whom I reserve a special fondness and a great deal of respect. We met for a drink at Louie’s Basque Corner, a legendary Reno eatery that was going strong when I was a kid and is still going strong decades later. Six people tied together by a common thread. Six men who shared much more than a simple place of employment. One thanked me for the mini-reunion saying that “I was the only one that could have dragged this group out on a Wednesday night.” While I appreciated the sentiment I knew deep down it wasn’t true. I wasn’t the impetus, it was the memory of and the respect for my mom and dad. But I was more than willing and happy to be the conduit.

As I look back I am struck by how little some things had changed and how different other things were. Earlier I mentioned chili cheese omelets; that pace that served them at all hours of the day and night was an eight seat diner on Virginia Street called Landrum’s. It’s still there but now it’s called Beefy’s and I have no idea what the menu is or if anyone goes there at 3 AM. Downtown has changed but the Truckee River that runs through it is as beautiful as ever. Billinghurst is gone but Jessie Beck and Reno High are still there educating the future leaders of our state, the nation and quite possibly the world.

As I headed for the airport I couldn’t help but smile. I thought You can go home again, you just have to have an open mind about the remodel.

As golf fans suffer through the muddle of another undefined transition from the end of one season to the beginning of another I find myself amused reading articles offering all the myriad ways to “improve the product”. These “innovative” ideas apply to events across the spectrum from moving a major to integrating a marginal PGA TOUR stop. While some of these ideas are mildly thought-provoking NONE are imaginative or moderately interesting.

Golf pundits, decision makers and experts wring their hands and gnash their teeth trying to “think outside the box” then come up with conjure up ideas that spring directly from the most moldy of cardboard containers in the golf attic. Ideas that some consider “refreshing” have all been on the shelf of your local Nevada Bob’s store for decades. Come on people we can do better!

LET’S PLAY A TWO MAN TEAM EVENT!

Okay, let’s. Except when we offer this up as “exciting”, “groundbreaking”, or “interesting” we forget we ALREADY HAVE two-man team events. I concede that the Franklin Templeton Shootout is not part of the regular PGA TOUR season but it is played every year; lately to decreasing ratings and tepid interest. In fact this format has been played for so long (more than a quarter of a century) that it’s gone through seven name changes. FRESHNESS RATING – 4 STALE BAGELS

My idea is to BAIL on this idea.

LET’S HAVE THE LPGA AND THE PGA TOUR PLAY AN EVENT THE SAME WEEK ON THE SAME COURSE!

Sure, why not. This one, in fact, is mildly interesting. In 2014 the USGA took a bold step and played the United States Open Championship and the United States Women’s Open Championship at Pinehurst No 2 on back-to-back weeks. It was a colossal success and showed that at the right venue something like this was possible. I agree that it would be entertaining to see the best players in the world, regardless of gender, tackle the same track. FRESHNESS RATING – DAY OLD PIZZA

Here’s MY idea… Keep the foundation, play a limited field event with both LPGA Tour and PGA TOUR players the same week, on the same golf course. But make it a team event. No not the ancient J C Penney Classic that gave us 1997 Champions Clarence Rose and Amy Fruwirth but a new, inventive, surf and turf version. Instead of a pro-am pairing party institute a President’s Cup style draft. World Rankings of the participants determine the order of the draw and then you alternate gender. For example if Jordan Spieth (ranked 5th in the world) and Lydia Ko (ranked 1st in the Rolex rankings) are the top players from each tour entered Lydia picks her partner first and puts Jordan “on the clock”. If Lydia happens to pick Jordan than the next PGA TOUR player on the list gets to pick. The team with the combined lowest score in relation to par wins. Best part about this? You get three events in one!

Other things I WOULDN’T like to see…

An LPGA Tour event at Augusta – One trip down Magnolia Lane a year is enough for me

Moving the PGA Championship earlier in the calendar year – why bother? Regardless of when or where it’s played it will still be the fourth major.

Having tournaments end on different days of the week – It’s hard enough to maintain enthusiasm with a Championship Sunday. This won’t increase interest in the sport, in fact, I think it would have the reverse effect.

Another Match Play or Stableford event

Things I WOULD like to see…

Fewer tournaments on the PGA TOUR – there is just too much golf. I get the argument about playing opportunities but I see no issue with dialing it back by a tournament or four. You can appease corporations and competitors by combining sponsors and because of that even raising purses. That would actually give golf fans a chance to breathe and ultimately care when professional golf is played again in January. It could also give us a return to the fun of a “Silly Season”.

The return of the “Silly Season”- What in the world is wrong with having a little fun? We don’t need to exhume then resurrect the SKINS Game or the Skills Challenge but how about events like these…

A Two-day event during which a small field of players compete with decades old equipment. I know this has been suggested by some and I like this one. You could even have different divisions. Ten players go head to head with featheries and wooden shafts while others tee it up using persimmon and wound balls then another group heads out with Gintys and aluminum.

Night golf, Righties playing Lefty and vice versa, Five clubs in the bag, One ball only. Even four pros go head to head with a different “celebrity” partner on each hole (the added twist is they don’t know who that partner is until they step up on the tee). No gender requirements, no age divisions; women, men, Web.com tour, Champions Tour, all are welcome.

Some things are inescapable; hundreds of 54 or 72 hole stroke play events is boring, a January to December playing schedule is untenable, unlimited sponsors and money is a fantasy. Golf may not need a transfusion but it could use an infusion. And that infusion should not come from the same old box pundits and executives have been “thinking outside of” for decades.

Did you hear ’em talkin’ bout it on the radio

Did you try to read the writing on the wall

Did that voice inside you say I’ve heard it all before

It’s like deja vu all over again

John Fogerty

On October 18 the World Golf Hall of Fame announced that five accomplished people would enter its hallowed halls as the class of 2017. It will come as a surprise to no one and the profound disappointment of this one that none of the names are that of The Golf Channel founder Joseph E. Gibbs.

This should by no means be perceived as a slight to Henry Longhurst, Ian Woosnam, Davis Love III, Meg Mallon or Lorena Ochoa. While I am of the opinion that the “Hall” makes a mistake by feeling the need to induct somebody, anybody, every two years; I don’t necessarily have an issue with this group. Especially Longhurst who, in my opinion, set the standard with his half a century work in both print journalism and broadcast commentary.

Woosnam, Love III, Ochoa and Mallon are all fine, accomplished players. By all accounts they are also wonderful people and terrific ambassadors for the game of golf. During my decades of work in golf television I had the pleasure of meeting the first three and befriending Miss Mallon. I am a huge fan of hers. I am happy for all of them, thrilled for her, that they will now be enshrined. But forgive me if I missed the resounding drumbeat for any of them to be so honored. I AM pounding the drum (again) in the hope that somebody, anybody, seriously consider the man responsible for spearheading one of the biggest success stories in the history of the sport.

“Woosie” won 29 times on the European Tour, twice on the PGA TOUR (including the 1991 Masters and won the European Tour Player of the Year twice. Well done “wee Welshman” but Hall of Fame credentials? Maybe but not a lock.

DLIII has 21 PGA TOUR wins and like Woosie, one major. Love captured the 1997 PGA Championship. He captained two United States Ryder Cup teams (1-1) but was never the Player of the Year, leading money winner or Vardon Trophy (given to the player with the lowest scoring average on the PGA TOUR recipient. Again a rather nice resume but should it get him in the Hall? Not sure.

Lorena Ochoa picked up 27 LPGA Tour wins including two major championships (2007 Women’s British Open and 2008 Ana Inspiration) in less than a decade. She was the LPGA Tour Rookie of the Year in 2003 and its Player of the Year in 2006, ’07, ’08, and ’09. She was the Tour’s leading money winner those same years and claimed the Vare Trophy (the LPGA’s version of the Vardon Trophy in ’06, ’07, and ’08). She was well on her way to perhaps becoming the LPGA’s top player of all time and then she retired at 28. Great player, no doubt. Wonderful person, without question. But is an 8 year career Hall of Fame material? I’m not saying yes or no, I’m just asking the question.

Meg Mallon played on the LPGA Tour for a quarter century and was one of its fiercest competitors. She was known as a “big game” player and proved it by winning four major championships including the most difficult of all, The United States Women’s Open, twice. In all she won 18 times, played on eight U.S. Solheim Cup teams and captained the squad in 2013. Again a great player and in Meg’s case an even better person but do those numbers qualify her for golf immortality?

Again I am not denying any of them are great players and worthy of our admiration and praise. My question is simply are the accomplishments of each enough to be inscribed on a plaque for generations of golfers to see from now on. Shouldn’t the Hall of Fame be reserved for not just the really good or the occasionally amazing but for the absolute best of the best? Shouldn’t we require the ones being dignified do something special? Make a difference? Blaze a trail? Shouldn’t the bar for exaltation stay constant or in some cases be raised, not compromised? The problem, as I see it, is a self-inflicted wound. The World Golf Hall of Fame simply admitted too many people (and I’m not talking about patrons) too quickly. Did they have to rush Vijay Singh, Fred Couples, Colin Montgomerie, or Mark O’Meara in? Was it necessary to fast track Phil Mickelson, Ernie Els, or Sandy Lyle? Who’s left for goodness sake?

I’ll tell you who… Joe Gibbs, that’s who. What about what he accomplished isn’t Hall of Fame worthy? The man blazed a trail, took a chance, put it all on the line, and created history’s first 24 hour, niche cable television channel dedicated to one sport. He had a vision. He had a dream. He convinced a dedicated, mostly talented, staff to join his crusade and proved all the experts and naysayers wrong. “It’ll never work” they said. “Who would want to watch golf 24/7-365?” they chided. “I give it 6 months” they concluded. Well it worked. Millions of people watched and millions more still do. The Golf Channel flipped the switch on January 17, 1995, it’s 2017 and Golf Channel ain’t going anywhere. One man, Joe Gibbs, with a little help from his friends, turned a middle of the night “what if” into a TV phenonmenon AND a billion dollar business. He belongs in the World Golf Hall of Fame because what he did made the world of golf better. Better for me, better for you. Better for Tiger Woods, better for Annika Sorenstam. Better for Ian Woosman, Davis Love III, Lorena Ochoa and Meg Mallon.

Will 2019 FINALLY be the year that Joseph E. Gibbs ascends to his well deserved place in the World Golf Hall of Fame? Or will it be “deja vu all over again”?

“There must be some kind of way outta here

Said the joker to the thief

There’s just too much confusion

I can’t get no relief”

Just like the bratty bully that became a full fledged juvenile delinquent, the San Francisco Giants bullpen broke into our collective house last night and ruined everything. Matt Moore had been masterful in game 4 of the National League Division Series against the Chicago Cubs. Another win-or-go-home game for the 2010,2012,2014 World Champions. The franchise had won 10 straight games like this. Games they had to win, including one the night before, and were on the verge, thanks mostly to Moore, of winning an 11th consecutive one. Up 5-2, top of the ninth, three outs from a trip back to Chicago for a Johnny Cueto v Jon Lester, game five. Moore had thrown 120 pitches and given up only two hits through 8. His night was done. He did his job. Arguments that manager Bruce Bochy should have let him have the ball to start the ninth are ludicrous. That said, admit it Giants fans, despite a three run lead you were nervous. And rightly so.

What must have been an emotionally drained rookie, Derek Law, started the ninth facing likely 2016 NL MVP Kris Bryant. Ground ball, just to the left of shortstop Brandon Crawford. Base hit. Lefty Anthony Rizzo was next in the batting order so out of the dugout came Bruce Bochy to summon his lefty, Javier Lopez. Five pitches later Rizzo was on first thanks to a base on balls and Bryant advanced to second base. Professional hitter Ben Zobrist was next in line and he suddenly represented the tying run with nobody out. Bochy emerges again, this time to get Lopez and replace him with “closer” Sergio Romo. Do I really need to go on Giants fans. Didn’t we all know how this was going to end? Double. Bryant scores, Rizzo to third, Zobrist on second, still nobody out. Except Romo who was now replaced by Will Smith. Cubs skipper Joe Maddon countered with Willson Contreras who had 3 hits in 5 at bats during this series. Make that 4 for 6. Game tied. Bochy left Smith in to face Jason Heyward who bounced back to the pitcher. Smith’s throw went to Brandon Crawford at second for one, Crawford’s throw went into the camera well for his second error of the game. No double play. Heyward, who represented the go ahead run, now stood on second base. Bochy had seen enough of Smith so he called for Hunter Strickland who promptly gave up a base hit to Giant killer Javier Baez that drove in Heyward. Five pitchers, four runs, Moore’s fabulous effort wasted, Giants off season starts.

As a die hard fan I was gutted, but not surprised. In fact as I lay in bed stewing about, steaming over, and lamenting the loss I realized it was actually the fitting end to a Jekyll and Hyde Giants season. San Francisco had the BEST record in baseball at the All-Star break. That’s right, better than the Cubs, better than the Rangers, better than Boston, BETTER than everybody. Then the roof caved in, the bullpen stopped getting guys out, and the bats went silent. The Giants record after the break was one of MLB’s worst. You could make a salient argument that their bullpen WAS the worst. Because it was. Blown save after blown save, late inning leads turned to heartbreaking losses. But despite that the Giants were still in the playoff picture, fighting for a wild card berth. A berth they earned thanks to a three game sweep of arch rival Los Angeles to end the regular season.

During the closing stretch the bullpen had settled down some, actually gotten a few guys out, improbably saved some games instead of blowing them. But we all knew it was too good to be true, didn’t we Giants fans. A wild card win over NY came next thanks to a completely expected complete game shutout from Madison Bumgarner and a magically surprising 3-run, ninth inning, home run off the bat of Conor Gillaspie. On to Chicago where Cueto lost game one in a classic pitchers duel thanks to one bad pitch location. The Giants were overmatched at Wrigley in game 2 so they limped home down two games to none and on the brink of elimination. But these boys had been there before and under Bochy were 9-0 in games where they faced elimination. MadBum would start game 3 at home so bring it on. In the words of an old friend, “We ain’t skeered.” After giving up a dinger to Cubs counterpart Jake Arrieta, Bumgarner righted the ship, kept the Giants in it and his teammates rewarded him with an emotional comeback.

There was Bum, in the late night euphoria after a dramatic 13 inning win that extended the “backs against the wall” winning streak to an MLB record 10 games. After a win that papered over another blown save, Bumgarner told a reporter, “We’re hard to kill.” Little did he know less than 24 hours later his team’s championship chase would be extinguished by self-inflicted wounds. But we all knew, didn’t we Giants fans. It wasn’t if the bullpen would let us all down, it was when. It might have been game 5 in the NLDS, it could have been in any game in the NLCS or the World Series but it was bound to happen. Better that it did last night. At least the Cubbies get to keep their 108 year old dreams alive.

As I said this series loss came as no surprise. In fact, it would have shocked the 2016 baseball world if the Giants had eliminated Chicago. But there was really very little chance of that. The ineffective bullpen was just the most obvious flaw. They played the last two division series games with what amounted to an automatic out in the 8 spot of the batting order playing left field, a flailing Hunter Pence batting cleanup and an amazing lack of “pop” throughout the lineup. Those were obvious. What wasn’t obvious or expected was the two throwing errors committed by, what I think is, the game’s best shortstop. Both errant throws led to Cub runs.

But there is much to be excited about heading into 2017. San Francisco has what appears to be an outstanding, relatively young, starting rotation; an All-Star, future Hall of Fame, catcher and one of the game’s best double play combos. But, in my opinion, if they want to win division titles as well as League and World Series Championships in the near future they must make more than just cosmetic changes. Send Angel Pagan with his salute, suspect outfield play and shaky back, packing. Have Sergio Romo, Gregor Blanco, Santiago Casilla, Javier Lopez and yes even Brandon Belt follow him out the door. They need to build a reliable pen with a big league closer and put somebody in the lineup that can drive in more than 100 runs and hit more than 20 homers. Last but not least excuse Billy Hayes from his first base coaching duties, put Roberto Kelly back there, and get a real third base coach. They’re built to win, have proven that they can. We know that, don’t we Giants fans. They were also flawed this go around and we knew that too.

The San Francisco Giants are one loss away from the end of their baseball season. Down 0-2 to this year’s “best team in baseball”, the Chicago Cubs, the Giants head home for game three of the National League Division Series Monday at AT & T Park. Must win. Can’t lose. They, and by that I mean we, have been here before. Not just in the recent past but just weeks, just days, ago.

Because the St. Louis Cardinals were playing a lifeless Pittsburgh Pirates team at the end of the regular season and getting runs they didn’t deserve (see scoring from first base on a ground rule double) San Francisco faced must win game after must win game against arch-rival and National League West Champion Los Angeles. They took on Clayton Kershaw… win. They faced Rich Hill… so what. They squared off against Kenta Maeda… no problem. And they did all that without their ace, Madison Bumgarner, having to pitch. That’s because he would be on the bump for the do or die Wild Card game, against the New York Mets, in New York. Backs against the wall, win or go home, again. Giants win. Next stop Wrigley Field.

Friday, facing baseball’s best, Giants starter Johnny Cueto was masterful. Then he made one bad pitch. In the bottom of the eighth, of a scoreless game, Chicago second baseman Javier Baez got a pitch up in the strike zone and got a lot of bat on it. His over-the-top, Yoenis Cespedes like, reaction told everyone watching, at home and in the stands, that he had just launched one on to Waveland Avenue. A sure-fire game winner with a rested Aroldis Chapman in the bullpen. But the ball told a different story. Spinning through a left to right blowing wind it seemed to hit a wall and Giants left fielder Angel Pagan drifted back trying to get under it. A no doubt Big Fly suddenly appeared suspect. Then Pagan ran out of room and the ball remained just out of reach. Three feet. It settled in the wire basket that runs along the ivy covered wall, keeping balls from bounding back into play. It didn’t even have enough gas in the tank to reach the rabid fans in the seats. But it WAS enough to sink Cueto and the Giants. Chapman came in and, despite plenty of rest, looked vulnerable. Still launching pitches at 100mph plus but Wild. He walked Gorky Hernandez but was bailed out by a first base umpire who incorrectly punched him out on a what was clearly a 3-2 check swing. With two out Buster Posey plastered a fast ball into the gap in left center field that was slammed down by the same wind that grabbed Baez’s ball. Instead of a game tying home run Posey “settled” for a double off the wall. Runner on second, two out. And that’s where Hunter Pence left him. Game one, a game the Giants could have, maybe should have won, was lost.

With the wind definitely out of the Giants sails, for some reason SF manager Bruce Bochy called upon Jeff Samardzija to start game 2. Maybe it was because he used to be a Cub, maybe it was because he had a feeling but if it were me (I know I’m not a future hall of fame manager) I would have started lefty Matt Moore. Even though Samardzija was 7-5 on the road and 5-6 at home this year his ERA at AT & T was half a run better at home, he gave up 40 fewer hits, 18 fewer runs and 16 fewer earned runs in San Francisco. Plus the Cubs hit a second worst in baseball .229 against lefties this year. But Bochy went with Samardzija and things got ugly early. Four runs in 2 innings was all Chicago needed to take a two games to none lead in a best of five series. So here we (the Giants and their fan base) are again.

Is winning three straight against the Cubs in San Francisco impossible? Of course not. Is it unlikely? Absolutely. But consider this, The Giants have baseball’s best post season pitcher, Madison Bumgarner, ready to put the first brick in the great wall on Monday night. If MadBum wins another do or die game then a spectacularly rested Matt Moore goes on Tuesday. Win again and Cueto gets another shot at Baez and the Cubs on Wednesday. The Cubs, with an armada of arms themselves, will no doubt counter with 2015 Cy Young Award winner Jake Arrieta against Bumgarner, John Lackey on Tuesday and return with Jon Lester, who bettered Queto in Chicago for game 5.

Also one (me) could argue that history is on San Francisco’s side. The Giants were down 0-2 in 2012 heading to Cincinnati to face the favored Reds who just needed one win in three games at home. Giants win, Giants win, Giants win. It led to the teams second world championship in three years. They would make it 3 in 5 two years later. The Cubs, on the other hand, won back to back world championships of their own in 1907 and 1908. They haven’t won one since. I’m not great at math but that looks like one hundred and eight years to me. 

But while it appears history favors the Giants one (me) could argue that the odds are with Chicago. Bumgarner has pitched 23 consecutive scoreless innings in winner-take-all post season games (CAN that continue?). He’s been involved in three of those games and won all three ( can THAT continue?). The Cubs are 0 for their last 108 years having lost in the World Series seven times (1910,’18,’29,’32,’35,’38, and ’45). Can that CONTINUE? My unbiased guess is no.
The Giants very well might, probably will, win behind Bumgarner again but these Cubs are too young, too resilient, and too DAMN good to lose three straight to any team, let alone this offensively challenged Giants squad. In fact, Chicago only lost 3 in a row four times all year, the last such streak coming the second week of July. Most things point to the Cubs advancing but if you ask me they better get it done in game 4, Tuesday night in San Francisco.

Starting January 2, 1971, U. S lawmakers made it illegal for tobacco companies to advertise cigarettes on television. I think it’s high time Congress makes the same decision about prescription drugs.

Direct TV’s “Peyton on Sunday Morning” commercials are very clever BUT why would Eli be any more available on Tuesday and if he did come over what in the world would they watch?

FOX’s has a new drama that features the first female player in Major League Baseball history. She can still “see” (look up The Sixth Sense) her dead dad. It also stars Zack from Saved by the Bell as a “superstar” catcher with Crash Davis (look up Bull Durham) qualities. Yet the most unrealistic thing about the show is the broadcast booth scenes with real-life announcers Joe Buck and John Smoltz.

Is it just me or do those annoying Liberty Mutual Insurance commercials celebrate surprisingly shallow, amazingly ill-informed people as “victims” of bad insurance practices.

I already miss Arnold Palmer

On Sunday, September 25th,  Vincent Edward “Vin” Scully will sit behind a microphone in a Dodger Stadium broadcast booth and call a Los Angeles Dodgers baseball home game for the last time. 67 glorious, sun-soaked seasons since he sat behind a microphone in an Ebbets Field broadcast booth and called a Brooklyn Dodgers home game for the first time.

One week later, October 2, from AT&T Park, against the Dodgers’ arch rival San Francisco, Vin Scully will provide the play-by-play call for a professional baseball game for the very last time. Ever. And then the Greatest Of All Time will no longer grace the airwaves. Scully joined Red Barber and Connie Desmond in the Brooklyn Dodgers broadcast (radio and TV) booth in 1950. Three years later, at the age of 25, Scully became the youngest person to ever broadcast a World Series game. Despite all the voices that have come out of basements, barrooms and broadcast schools since, that’s a record that still stands today.

Memories are funny, fickle things and I have several when it comes to Vin Scully. When I was a kid we lived in Reno, Nevada, my paternal grandparents resided in Southern California (Rancho Palos Verdes to be exact). At least once a year, usually in the summertime my family would pile into the latest version of the family car and drive more than 500 miles to spend a week, or so, with them. Some of those memories, now decades old, are soft around the edges. Others are as clear as a Southwestern Colorado nighttime sky. The less focused ones include what my brothers (one two years my senior, the other an infant) were up to. The crystal clear ones include my parents and grandparents playing bridge and Vin Scully.

I was 5 or 6 and didn’t much like going to bed in my father’s, father’s house. But I was 5 or 6 so when it was “bedtime” I didn’t have a choice. I remember a type of day bed/couch, upon which was laid an imprecise fitting sheet that, along with the pillowcase, smelled like my grandma. I don’t remember it being an unpleasant odor, just distinctive. The bed/couch had an arm on one end that served as a headboard and was bordered on one side by a brick wall, painted white. I have no memory of where my older brother slept or in which room my parents placed my younger brother’s crib. I just remember my bed and how much I disliked it. One night, amidst my protestations and while tucking me in, my folks set a transistor radio by my head and tuned it to, volume low, KFI 640 AM and Los Angeles Dodgers baseball.

I didn’t know much about baseball but I knew I liked it. I also “knew” we were San Francisco Giants fans. My dad said I didn’t have to like the Dodgers to listen to them on the radio. “It’s baseball,” he must have said, “now go to sleep,” I’m certain he said. So I listened to the sounds that emanated from the other room, ice clinking in glasses, some laughter, some calls of “three spades” or “two no trump”. And I listened to Vin Scully and Jerry Doggett. On my hands and knees, rocking back and forth like a mad man, working up a sweat and trying to tire myself out, I listened to Vin Scully.

In a remarkable twist of fate, thirty years later I met and worked with Vin Scully. The best in baseball and one of the best in the entire business for years, Mr. Scully would be the lead announcer on a made for television golf match on which I was lucky enough to work. It was Thanksgiving weekend just outside of Palm Springs, California and The SKINS Game was a phenomenon. I was an Associate Producer and one of my roles was to write and then edit the opening tease for the broadcast and all of the features that would air inside. I had been on the job for a little more than a year and had worked with a number of professional broadcasters, all talented, none Vin Scully.

The SKINS Game featured four of golf’s biggest names. Major Champions, Players of the Year, best of all time, gathered every fall for a “hit and giggle”competition for money. By the late 80’s and early 90’s standards they gathered for lots of money. It was a huge hit, “must see TV”, many times the highest rated golf broadcast other than the Masters Tournament, and I was charged with writing copy that would be presented to one Vincent Edward Scully, widely regarded as American television’s greatest sports announcer, to read. Was I nervous? You bet. Was I intimidated? Thanks to Vin Scully, not a chance.

I remember distinctly laboring over every word, writing and rewriting each phrase. Eliminating some clichés, emphasizing others. Reading the words in my voice then attempting to read them in Vin’s. When I felt I couldn’t make any more improvements I brought them to the announce booth. As I handed them to the man he accepted them graciously. We had met, SKINS Game director Steve Beim had introduced me to Mr. Scully earlier in the week. As he slipped the headset off his left ear, days later in the booth, he acted like he’d known me for years. “Thanks Keith,” he said with a smile. I told him what I have since told almost every announcer with whom I’ve worked, “feel free to edit or change anything you don’t like.” He slipped the headset back over his ear, gave the copy a glance and informed the control room he was ready to “give it a try.”  Every word I wrote, he read and it came out a million times better than I could have ever imagined.

That was a quarter century ago and I have seen Vin Scully on a couple of occasions since. He still remembers our short time together and calls me by my name. Working with the greatest of all time remains among my most treasured memories. There are excellent announcers working today, as a Giants fan I have the pleasure of listening to three of them in Jon Miller, Duane Kuiper and Mike Krukow. There will be excellent announcers coming up through the ranks, some are still in college, others in elementary school. But NONE will EVER be Vin Scully. He is, without question, the greatest of all time. 67 years worth of a body of incomparable work illustrates that. Baseball and America will say goodbye to Vin Scully when the Los Angeles Dodgers make the final out of their 2017 season.

I, for one, will celebrate a man who put baseball first, the Dodgers next, and himself last. A man who forged a peerless career in broadcasting that will be remembered and exalted for generations.

I am an unabashed fan of the San Francisco Giants. Up until 2010 that meant a lifelong fandom of a great deal of fun as well as a fair share of frustration. Since 2010 and the subsequent THREE World Championships the fun quotient has escalated dramatically while the frustration level has been mostly relegated to issues off the field.

My name is Keith and I am a west coast sports fan living in New Jersey.

That, in and of itself, presents certain challenges including, but not limited to, ESPN east coast bias (how many Yankees or Red Sox games MUST we all endure?) and time zone realities. That means most home contests and division games featuring my favorite team don’t start until after 10 PM. Without disclosing my exact age I’ll just say that is, on most nights, about 30 minutes past my bedtime! But thanks to the good folks at Major League Baseball I had hope in the form of a cable sports package called MLB Extra Innings, or so I thought. Even though I make my home thousands of miles and three time zones away from the best ball yard in baseball (AT&T Park) I could watch every inning of every game featuring my hometown team. Of course this privilege would come at a price but I was more than willing to pay it. If they would have asked I would have paid more. Then, not now. Last night is the prime example of why that is true.

The SF Giants are currently in the middle of a battle for a playoff spot. Thanks in great part to self inflicted bullpen wounds they have gone from being baseball’s best at the All-Star break to 4 games behind the damn Dodgers in the NL West. They do currently hold the first Wild Card spot but that lead is tenuous thanks to their inability to beat the San Diego Padres (even when they take a four run lead into the ninth inning!). The Giants can still win the division with six upcoming games against LA but they have to prove they can beat the Padres and will have four chances to do that in San Diego. The team is also locked in a fight with the NY Mets and the St. Louis Cardinals for the chance to play at least 1 post-season game. So it was with great anticipation, nervousness and anxiety that I watched the clock tick toward 10:15 PM (game time) last night as the Cardinals were in San Francisco to take on Johnny Cueto and the good guys. THIS is the reason I pay hundreds (thousands? millions?) of dollars for MLB EXTRA INNINGS!

Earlier I had checked the screen to find out that the Giants/Cardinals would be featured at 10:15 on MLB Extra Innings (a service for which I pay hundreds of dollars) Channel 2 (that’s 772 on my Comcast cable system). Yay. Of course I looked toward the top of the screen to find out which “early” game would proceed the men in orange and black. Much to my dismay I saw that that game would be the tilt between the New York Yankees and the Boston Red Sox. Boo! That’s a great big boo for several reasons most notably because it’s a game featuring two teams that play in a league that doesn’t observe the real rules of baseball. Because of that, those games almost always last longer than games that feature real rule abiding National League teams. It’s also a game that features the Yankees and in Western New Jersey that means two words: BLACK OUT. Where I live a NY Yankees game on MLB Extra Innings (a premium service that costs hundreds of dollars) means that you CAN’T WATCH. Not only can you NOT watch but you get a frozen screen and can’t even change the channel for a couple of seconds. Not only do you get a frozen screen and can’t change the channel for a couple of seconds it takes several MINUTES (sometimes a full inning) to switch from that game to the game that was scheduled to be on at 10:15.

So there I was finishing my evening glass of Pangloss Tenacity (it’s a red blend and it’s delicious) watching the NFL and waiting for the Giants/Cardinals. A quick check of my phone showed the Yankees going to the bottom of the ninth with a fairly comfortable lead over the Red Sox. The Giants/Cardinals were in “warm up”. This could work out I thought/hoped/half expected. Nope. The Red Sox mounted a rally and eventually won the game on a “walk off” three run home run. Well past the official start time for Giants/Cards.

TRAIN OF THOUGHT DEVIATION ALERT

Why is what Hanley Ramirez did last night breathlessly referred to as a “walk off” whatever? Don’t both teams technically “walk off” the field after EVERY game regardless of the score or how it occurred?

BACK TO THE ORIGINAL POST

So here is what happened and why I hate, HATE, HATE MLB Extra Innings, a service that costs me hundreds of dollars. Giants/Cardinals was supposed to be on Game Channel 2 at 10:15 PM but Yankees/Red Sox was still on at that time. Okay I get it, they aren’t going to leave one game before it’s over to get to the start of another one. Especially if that game features those two teams. There were other games on the some of the MLB Extra Innings ( a hundreds-of-dollars pay service, orbit but not all. There are actually 12 MLB Extra Innings channels (for which I pay hundreds of dollars) and it is rare when the entire dozen has a game being broadcast. Such was the case last night. At 10:15 when Giants/Cardinals was supposed to be on TV but wasn’t because Yankees/Red Sox was still on. THREE of the channels were airing an exercise infomercial while four others were proudly airing  THAT DAY’S schedule! Was it too much to ask that the pimply-faced high school dropout manning the switch at MLB Extra Innings (my premium pay channel) HQ switch the Giants/Cardinals to one of those channels? Apparently it was. Despite the fact that the game I wanted to watch featured the two best National League teams in recent history and there were plenty of channels available, NO Giants/Cardinals anywhere on the service for which I’m paying hundreds of dollars that PROMISED me EVERY INNING OF EVERY GAME FROM MY FAVORITE TEAM. Bastards.

So on my phone I “saw” Buster Posey at the plate. “In Play No Out (s)” the screen informed me. Great, I thought, Buster got a two-out single after Johnny Cueto handled the Cardinals in the top of the first (by the way they were still crunching abs on three MLB Extra Innings channels, for which I pay hundreds of dollars, and displaying the schedule of four others). It was 10:20. Hunter Pence up next… “In Play Run (s)” screamed my phone app (okay it didn’t actually scream, I did). Hunter Pence hit a two run home run and just like that the Giants had a 2 run lead. Thanks to MLB Extra Innings (the service that costs me hundreds of dollars) I didn’t get to see it. I also didn’t get to see Cueto shut down the Cardinals in the second or give up single runs in the third and fourth. 2-2 tie and the clock had just ticked past 11:00 PM. Then Hanley Ramirez hit his 3-run blast. Yankees Lose… TTTTTHHHHHEEEE Yankees Lose. I checked the clock on my TV screen and squinted to see what I thought was 11:02PM. Giants coming up in the bottom of the fourth, game tied 2-2.

11:03 no game

11:04 no game

11:05 no game (Giants in get men on base)

11:06 no game

11:07 no game (Giants score two to take a 4-2 lead)

11:08 no game

11:09 FINALLY THE PIMPLY-FACED KID MAKES THE SWITCH!

So let’s recap…MLB Extra Innings, the pay cable service for which I pay hundreds of dollars, failed to deliver on its promise. It couldn’t bother to figure out a way to let me watch a game featuring my favorite team for 54 FREAKIN MINUTES in the middle of a playoff race against a team that is also in the playoff hunt. Thanks for nothing.

Did I mention MLB Extra Innings costs hundreds of dollars

My wife and I like getaways. Sometimes just the two of us, sometimes with family and friends and sometimes with the dog. This past Labor Day Weekend was a “Sometimes with the dog”, sometime. When the 85 pound Bernese Mountain Dog is involved the criteria for the trip is rather simple… Wherever we go we have to get there by automobile. We jump in the front, the girl jumps in the back and away we go, preferably for a destination within a 6 hour drive from our front door and her back yard. This time around that meant Stowe, Vermont.

I’d been to Vermont, the 14th state, once before but never to the mountain ski town of Stowe. We picked that part of the state because one of the country’s best “dog friendly” resorts, TopNotch, is located there. Our trip took us by Saratoga Springs and Albany then out of New York state and into Vermont. The drive was lovely. Two lane roads at times, four lane interstate other times. Big green trees nearby, mountains off in the distance and more than a thousand songs on the ipod to accept, dismiss and sing along to.

About three hours into the 5 and a half hour drive (not counting a stop for food for us and a bit of business for the pooch) we crossed into the Green Mountain State. This part of the adventure was a revelation. This is farm country folks. Acres and acres of green grass fields, corn and milk cows. It makes perfect sense, after all Vermont is famous for milk and cheese and to make both you need cows. Cows need to eat and the grass and corn fits that bill. Vermont is also famous for Ben and Jerry’s ice cream (which also depends on cows) and Bernie Sanders. We saw one but not the other.

Some of the farms are massive, 24/7, milk producing behemoths while others are much smaller, clearly family owned operations doing their best to get by. It was really cool to see this part of America in action. As you drive around, near and through the tiny towns of Pownal, East Dorset, Danby, Mount Tabor and Wallingford. There are also slightly bigger burghs including Bennington and Burlington along Route 7 (The Ethan Allen Highway). At Vergennes you start seeing signs for Stowe. Eventually we connected with Interstate 89 that led us to Stowe. Vermont Highway 100 actually gets you there as you travel past the Ben and Jerry’s factory (tours daily!), the Trapp Family home and various cheese and maple syrup stores. TopNotch is on Mountain Road, a fitting moniker because if you follow it all the way up you get to Vermont’s highest point, the top of Mount Mansfield. We would make that trip but not on this day, TopNotch was our ultimate destination on day one.

The resort was not only dog friendly but family friendly. Two restaurants, three pools, tennis courts, a bocce court and a couple of fire pits. The pup was welcome everywhere except the pools and inside the restaurants but there was plenty of patio seating outside to accommodate several canines and most times several canines were what we saw. There was a short, yet interesting trail, at the resort but we did most of our exploring away from TopNotch and it was spectacular. Stowe features a five mile recreational trail which we shared with other dog walkers, cyclists and joggers. Adjacent to that was a grass stretch called the Quiet Path which meandered along the West Branch of the Little River (is this where the “band” was from?) and borders the historic Mayo farm. It runs for almost 2 miles and is a perfect place for dogs both on and off leash. We spent the morning of our first full day enjoying both the Recreational Trail and the Quiet Path which led us into Stowe proper.

After lunch we visited the famous Bingham Falls. A challenging hike down to one of Vermont’s most popular tourist destinations. Needless to say we weren’t alone. The dog was in heaven. She loved the trail, ups, downs, rocks, mud and all. It was all we could do to keep her on a tight leash without inflicting permanent damage to knees, ankles, shins and feet. Ours and hers. At the bottom of the trail is a running river and a natural pool surrounded by boulders and that was what she was after. Never mind that there were families, adventurers and other animals trying to share the same space. We all survived and made it back to the resort where our girl found the sanctity of the bathroom, with its cool tile floor, and refused to move for the rest of the day. She finally acquiesced to join us for dinner on the patio and a late night sniff or twelve around the grounds.

Day two took us to the top of the world (at least as far as Vermont is concerned). Something called The Toll Road takes you up Mount Mansfield, the highest mountain in the state at just more than 4,300 feet. You park near the summit and then hike up to the top. We made it most of the way along with hundreds of other tourists, two and four legged. From this perch we saw New York state and Lake Champlain to the west and the beautiful Stowe valley to the east. I imagine New Hampshire was out there too. If you go, and I suggest you do, take plenty of water and be prepared for starts and stops as you let folks go down as you’re going up or up as you’re going down. Depending on the time of year you might want to have some bug spray as well.

We had another worn out pup on our hands that evening and enjoyed a nice dinner at the resort’s Flannel Restaurant. After breakfast the next day and one last trek down the Recreational Path, with a stop in the cool river waters, we were back in the car and headed home. The trip to Vermont checked all the boxes. A getaway, time together, time with the pup, hiking, good food, interesting new adventures and all within driving distance from home. I hope our Berner remembers how much fun she had because we sure will.