Terry B’s Travelogue

 

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Saturday, August 29 (Pearl, MS)

Spirits have been high for most of this week. After the improbable comeback on Thursday night, yesterday brought another dramatic victory off the embattled Mississippi bullpen. After the game, Tom Carcione, Tom Martin, Tino Novis and I took a walk over to the mini golf course next to the hotel. I was surprised that the skipper came with us, but he was as competitive on the mini golf course as on the baseball field. He beat Tino by a stroke and me by…slightly more than a stroke. I don’t think the mini golf meant as much to him as the Bolts’ four-game winning streak, but it was a close enough comparison. When we crossed paths with players on our way back to the hotel, he was sure to tell them that he had dominated us.

It’s probably not controversial to say that road trips are more fun when the team is winning. Home stands are too for that matter, so after today’s game, when the winning streak came to an end in a 5-2 defeat, the atmosphere was a little more melancholy. I went for a walk after the game because the temperature had cooled down enough to be comfortable, then I stopped next door to the hotel at Logan’s to meet the coaches. I hadn’t planned on it, but when I realized that this was my last night on the road this regular season, it seemed inappropriate not to pop by at least for a little bit.

With seven days left in the season, the two playoff spots are still up for grabs, but with Schaumburg’s win today, they clinched the tiebreaker for the division crown, so the wild card has become the most likely path to the playoffs. Florence has the tiebreaker too, but their lead is only one game. The Bolts head to Florence next week in what could be the most consequential series the team has played in since 2010. That could be a playoff series itself. There’s one still to go in Mississippi, though. We’ll see if the Mud Monsters bullpen can hold out for one more day.

 

Thursday, August 27 (Pearl, MS)

I only intended to run a couple of miles this morning, but the weather was so nice (for Mississippi, I mean. It was still close to 90 degrees) that I decided to keep going. I stretched it to four miles initially. Then, when I got lost, as usual, I turned it into a six-miler.

As I jogged, I reflected on the current playoff race, or more specifically, how the playoff race was affecting me. I’m used to the season ending at the beginning of September, so I’m not really prepared for it to stretch further. I’ve got college football starting soon and Saturdays are going to start becoming a real hassle very soon. Furthermore, my whole marathon training schedule was based on being able to pick up the pace of my training in September. That’s all of a sudden in jeopardy. Frankly, from a practical standpoint, it would be much better for me if the Bolts missed the playoffs.

That’s the beauty of sports, though. You can’t look at anything practically or logically because if you did, you’d realize pretty quickly how ridiculous it is to be a sports fan in the first place. So, with that in mind, I can allow myself to continue to soak in the improbability of this run towards the postseason and hopefully ignore the problems that it’ll create later on.

And it’s a good thing that I turn off the logical portion of my brain while watching baseball because nothing made sense about tonight’s game. It looked like Mississippi was on their way to an easy victory when they were up 7-1 in the seventh inning but the ThunderBolts uncorked the most outrageous inning I’ve ever seen. I figured the 18-batter, 13-run sixth for Florence in early June would hold that title for a long time, but it couldn’t even last the season. The Bolts scored 14 runs in the seventh, one off the league record, and ended up with an easy 15-9 win.

After that game, probably for the first time, it actually seems more likely than not that the playoffs are going to be a reality. Both Schaumburg and Florence lost and the Bolts are on a roll. With nine games left, I’d be very surprised if it takes more than five more wins to get in and the schedule certainly lines up in our favor. It’s wild that just ten days ago, I was still fully expecting a September 7 end to the season. That doesn’t look like an inevitability anymore. It doesn’t even seem likely, and practicality or not, it’s the most fun I’ve had announcing Bolts baseball in years.

 

Wednesday, August 26 (Pearl, MS)

Who doesn’t love a day game? Growing up watching Cubs games on WGN, I was conditioned to believe that real baseball was played at 1:20 in the afternoon, but as a kid, I never once gave a thought to the people behind the scenes and how early their day had to start in order to get to that 1:20 first pitch. Today was our 31st day game of the year with one more still to come. I don’t think I had 31 day games combined in my first five years of professional baseball, so this has been a pretty big departure from the normal schedule. Day games, it probably goes without saying by now, are difficult to prepare for. Our bus to the field was at 9:00 this morning, which isn’t that early except when you consider that we had a night game yesterday. But doing this on the road is way easier than doing it at home. (Easy for me to say; I spent the game in an air conditioned booth while the players were in 98 degree heat on the Mississippi field.) I got almost all of my game notes prepared last night, so I didn’t even have to get up very early. For a home game, I probably would have rolled into the ballpark around 6:30. Sometimes a little earlier or later, depending on how late I stayed up to work the night before.

What’s really fun about a day game this time of year when your team is in the playoff race is knowing that the eyes of the entire league are on your result. I got a text message during a day game in 2010 from Chad Cooper, who worked for the ThunderBolts in 2009 but by then was the broadcaster for the Traverse City Beach Bums. He told me that my radio broadcast was playing over the PA system at their ballpark. The two teams were locked in a tight race at the time, so our result was so important that everyone in Traverse City was tuned in. It’s hard to believe that the Bolts have only been in a playoff race at this point in the season twice since then, so I haven’t had too many broadcasts that took on the same level of significance.

Today, we were the only afternoon game, so I don’t know how many people were watching my broadcast specifically, but I know everyone was locked in to the result. It’s a pretty cool feeling to know that you’re involved in something that that many people care about.

 

After the game, a dominant ThunderBolts win, we arrived back at the hotel and, on his way to the elevator, Tom Carcione called out to me, “Don’t go for a run today. Come to the bar instead.” With a persuasive argument like that, who was I to refuse?

Actually, the humid 98 degree day had me reconsidering my planned run no matter what. I think I’ll push it off to the morning. Because of the forecasted weather here, I’ve been kind of prepared to make this a throwaway week in my training. I was planning on going out for just a few short ones to keep my body from atrophying before kicking back into high gear when we return home, but hitting coach Brian White says that’s no good. It’s even more important to train in the heat so I’m ready for anything come marathon day… I went out with the coaching staff anyway. At Logan’s Roadhouse, we propped up a pair of phones on the bar with one tuned to the Florence-Lake Erie game and the other to the Schaumburg-Evansville game. I thought a few of the TVs at the bar should have switched from ESPN to the big Frontier League games, but apparently they’re not up-to-date on their HomeTeam subscriptions.

The Y’alls ended up sweeping their doubleheader and Schaumburg blew out the Otters, so the night wasn’t nearly as propitious the day was, but it doesn’t actually matter. With ten games left, the Boomers and Y’alls play each other next week, then we go to Florence to end the year, so as long as the Bolts keep winning, there’s no way they miss the playoffs. All the scoreboard watching is fun, but ultimately pointless right now.

 

Tuesday, August 25 (Pearl, MS)

The team got a big win tonight. Schaumburg won too, so it’s still a two-game deficit in the division with 11 games remaining, but it was a great way to start the road trip.

Mississippi is an interesting place to visit. This is only the second time we’ve been here, but it’s always a six-day trip anytime we come, which means you really have a chance to get comfortable in the neighborhood. Only it’s always really hot and humid, so its uncomfortable to be outside too much. My big complaint last year was the lack of sidewalks around the hotel, which gave me almost nowhere to walk. This year, the city of Pearl has heard my complaints and they’ve decided to install a sidewalk. There are still construction crews outside working on it, so it’s not all the way in, but there are now a handful of places I can walk to without having to trudge through knee high grass fields or wander into traffic to get there. By next year, we may even be able to walk to the ballpark, which is only a couple blocks away but very difficult to access through the current terrain.

I didn’t do much today. The first day of a series always requires the most preparation. It’s the first time we’ve seen the Mud Monsters since before the all-star break, so I spent some time getting reacquainted with the team. They came into the series with a hot offense. They scored 23 runs in their last game on Sunday, but Tyler Wehrle shut them down today, going eight innings, the longest outing of the season for a ThunderBolt. We haven’t seen a complete game this year for a Windy City pitcher. In the history of the franchise, there’s never been a year in which nobody threw a complete game, so I was really hoping he’d come back for the ninth, but it wasn’t to be. Maybe next time.

Tomorrow is supposed to be the hottest day of the week, so naturally, we’ve got a day game. Back to the ballpark bright and early!

 

Monday, August 24 (Pearl, MS)

Today, we had a 12-hour bus ride down to Mississippi. The good news is that we don’t have to leave for a while, so it’ll be another whole week before we have to go through another 12-hour bus ride. When we came to Mississippi last year, our drive started in Brockton, Massachusetts, meaning it was a lot longer and it was really interesting to see the changing landscape of the country. I didn’t get much of the same feeling this time around. Coming from Chicago, the terrain didn’t change too much throughout the journey straight south (and it really is straight south; the journey on a map is practically a straight line). One thing I did notice as we continued our journey is that with each successive rest stop, it got a little bit hotter. I'm sure that will make my marathon training this week a lot of fun. Also, we drove through Arkansas on the way here, which I think is the first time I’ve ever been in Arkansas, even though I never got off the bus there.

The series with the Mud Monsters doesn’t start until tomorrow night, so there’s a little time to settle in before the biggest week of ThunderBolts baseball in a long time. At the start of the week, the Bolts are two games out of the division lead and 3.5 out of the wild card. Most years, by the time we’re down to our final 12 games of the season, I’m just enjoying my last few weeks of calling baseball for the year. It’s a nice change of pace to have to prepare for such high intensity broadcasts. We’ll see how I’m feeling by the end of the week. I guess we'll also see how I'm feeling at every stage of the week, because I'll be sure to transcribe all of the turbulent emotions that come with being the ThunderBolts broadcaster right here.

 

Thursday, August 20 (Forest Park, IL)

I woke up this morning without having set an alarm. This isn’t uncommon for road games, but it’s incredibly rare to wake up in my own bed that way. Commuter games never feel quite right; they’re not part of my regular routine, but I won’t complain if they allow me to get a full night of sleep.

In my book about the 2017 ThunderBolts (still available on Amazon!), I reflected that I had been starving for the opportunity to call a playoff baseball game, and I didn’t fully realize until after the fact that during the last week of the regular season, I was doing just that. Even though it wasn’t technically the playoffs, the atmosphere at the stadium, the intensity on the field and the significance of the results to the standings, made those last few games exactly like the playoffs in every way that matters.

(Side Note: Much of that book was about the ThunderBolts’ lengthy postseason drought and my desire to call at least one playoff series before I die. Now it’s nine years later, and the same drought has more than doubled.)

The same feeling struck me today for the finale against the Schaumburg Boomers. We’re still two and a half weeks from the end of the season, but in all meaningful ways, tonight felt like a playoff game. It was an absolute must-win for the Bolts and, while maybe slightly less impactful for the Boomers, it was pretty important to them too. The fact that it was such a fun, well-pitched game was just the cherry on top of a night that would have been a blast regardless. It’s amazing what a little pitching can do for morale. As I remarked on the air, after a Frontier League season that has been dominated by offense with records falling all over the place, it has been really heartening in this series to see excellent pitching when it matters the most, in these playoff-esque games.

There’s a part of me that has been feeling guilty watching this recent ThunderBolts resurgence. When I first entered the league, I thought it would be good for me to work for a bad team for a while. When I call my first championship, I want to have earned it by paying my dues. More than a decade and a half later, I’m starting to ask whether I’ve paid enough of those dues. Yes, 16 years is a long playoff drought, but 17 years would be longer. Maybe I haven’t earned this yet. I’ve been thinking a lot about the four noble truths of Buddhism. Existence is suffering, and it was my desire for winning baseball that has helped cause this suffering, but if it’s a playoff-contending team that has me escaping that suffering, I may not be going down the right path. Then again, I’m not a practicing Buddhist, so maybe I can sidestep the whole thing. (I am instead Catholic, which may help explaining the guilt.)

Coming into this season, I said the same thing I say every season, that I just want to call some games that have some significance after the all-star break. I don’t think I’m particularly greedy. I’m not asking for a championship. I just want some meaningful games in August. Having achieved that, it may be wrong to ask for more. I don’t know where the rest of this season is going to go, but no matter what happens over the next few weeks, I’ll always be grateful that I got to announce some games of which the results matter to someone late in the season again. You can’t take that away from me.

 

Wednesday, August 19 (Forest Park, IL)

Last night, the ThunderBolts lost a lead with two outs in the ninth inning, went to extras, fell behind and came back with two runs in the bottom of the tenth to win on a Carlos Peña walk-off single. In a vacuum, it was one of the best games of the year. Taking it out of the vacuum and looking at the full picture, it was one of the best games in the last 15 years.

Working for the ThunderBolts has meant eating a healthy slice of humble pie every year for the last decade and a half. With the team on a 16-year playoff drought and going on a decade since the last time they legitimately contended, any game that keeps the team in the playoff race a little bit longer feels like a really big deal. For Schaumburg, who entered this three-game series with a five-game lead. Last night’s loss may have felt like a small bump in the road. The intensity is understandably not as strong in their dugout. For the Bolts, though, that win last night felt significant. And a dominant 6-0 win today felt even more so. Now, with 16 games remaining on the schedule, there’s only a three-game difference between the Boomers and the Bolts, and if Schaumburg wasn’t feeling the pressure at the start of the series, they sure are now. Tomorrow’s game isn’t just the difference between a two-game deficit and a four-game deficit. It’ll also determine the tiebreaker between the two teams, so that one game is essentially a three-game swing in the standings. It should be an intense atmosphere in Schaumburg tomorrow night.

Today, I allowed myself to do something that I haven’t in many years. I actually started to envision calling playoff moments. We’re still a long way off, but I’ve bought in to the way this team has played over the last three weeks, when it looked like the postseason was a pipe dream. It’s a new day in the Windy City, but tomorrow’s game will still determine everything. A loss in that one makes this whole series essentially null and void.

 

Exciting game aside, this has been a day I’ve been looking forward to for a long time. Having a day game on the road means time to go on a nice long run, so today, I’ve decided to go further than I have since the 2024 marathon. After the game, I drove into the city, parked at some random library and took off on a 17-mile run. For once this year, the weather even cooperated. It was a lovely night to be outside and, even though I’m exhausted, this was one of the best days of the entire summer. A long run gives me the chance to see a lot of the city. I ran through six or seven neighborhoods on my way back to my parking spot in Lincoln Square. By the end of it, I was pretty convinced that I hadn’t made it as far as I wanted. People think I’m crazy, but I don’t actually track my distances. I run with no GPS, no phone, no watch, nothing. When I finish, I try my best to remember the route I took, even though I never know what that route is going to be until I start turning down streets indiscrtiminately, then I look it up to see if I made it. According to my memory, I hit nearly 17 miles exactly today. My body is feeling it, but less than usual considering the sudden ramp up (I hadn’t been on a 15-miler in four weeks). Apparently, my training is sort of working. My body aches and I have absolutely no time for any of this, but most importantly, it’s all for a really good cause. PLEASE DONATE!!!  https://imermanangels.donordrive.com/participants/7109

 

Sunday, August 9 (Somewhere in America, I don’t know)

The series closed tonight with a 9-5 win and I didn’t make a single Dolly Parton joke on the air. I’m getting better. I did, however, spend over an inning talking about detachable shirt collars, so maybe I’m not getting better. Yesterday I met Carlos Peña’s father and he told me he listens to me every game, home or away (except that game, I guess, because he was there). So that means not everyone is turning me off. Good to know.

With this victory, the Bolts finished a 4-2 road trip, which is about as successful as you can ask, but Schaumburg went 4-2 this week as well, so they remain four games ahead in the division standings.

The trip home is approximately 13 hours, and as I write this, we’re already well into it. As I write this, I’m also very tired and am trying to remember anything that happened over the last 24 hours…

I went on a short run, made a quick stop at Guitar Center for new cables, saw the baseball game…

I guess some days are less interesting than others. I’d say that I’ve been dreading this bus ride, but to be honest, the 13-hour journey out to New York last week really wasn’t too bad. Since the ValleyCats scheduled a night game on getaway day, I won’t make it home in time to run my morning tour in downtown Chicago, so I had to cancel it. I didn’t cancel my afternoon tour, but the tour company did for some reason, so I’ll have a good chunk of time this afternoon to recoup from the trip for Tuesday evening’s game.

That’s good because Tuesday is a reminder of the impending end to baseball season. I’ll have to spend much of the morning at Northern Illinois University for fall sports media day. College football season is upon us. That means that most of my Tuesday work’ll have to be completed on Monday. Maybe I’ll start it here on the bus. I’m off to do that!

 

Friday, August 7 (Albany, NY)

We’re staying only about an hour and a half drive away from Cooperstown, so Tom Carcione arranged for the bus to take whoever wanted to go to the baseball Hall of Fame. Obviously, I jumped at the chance. Since we were rained out last night and have a doubleheader today, we weren’t able to spend quite as much time at the hall before having to catch a bus back to the hotel. On the flip side, I didn’t have as much pregame prep to do, so I was easily able to knock my notes out on the bus ride.

It was hard not to start feeling a little sick on that bus ride, though. We weaved our way through hilly terrain, sometimes having to go up or down very steep hills, never easy on a bus. Thankfully, Bus Driver Mike was able to get us to Cooperstown in one piece and my stomach was back to normal in short order.

I’ve been to the Hall of Fame twice before, first at the age of 16 and again last year as part of the all-star festivities. It never gets old. When I went back last year, I was struck by how similar the whole city was to my memories. I kind of figured that I had idealized Cooperstown in my mind and that it wasn’t actually what I remembered, but no, it really is that ideal. Main Street is full of awesome baseball shops that I didn’t have time to go into today, nor did I get the chance to stop by Doubleday Field this time, but it is remarkable how well the village maintains its old-time charm while also being totally devoted to baseball.

There are also houses that stretch beyond Main Street and towards the lake. I don’t know who lives here, but I can’t imagine this is a very fun place to be in the winter. During summertime, though, it’s about as close to heaven as you get.

In some ways, the actual museum is the less interesting part of a visit to Cooperstown, but that’s not giving it its fair due. I’m a guy who loves his museums and there are few better than the baseball Hall of Fame. We only had a little under two hours, so we didn’t get the chance to see everything on display, but I could easily see myself losing an entire day there. Heck, I could see myself losing an entire day just in the plaque room, where I notice today that the representations of the hall of famers are getting worse and worse as the years pass by. It’s time to get a new artist, Hall of Fame!

 

Back at “The Joe,” the Bolts and ValleyCats split a doubleheader, winning game one. It was the first win ever for Windy City at Tri-City. Earlier this week, they picked up their first ever win at New York, so barriers are being broken on this road trip! A win tomorrow would wrap up a winning road trip and would also return the team home at the .500 mark. The Bolts haven’t sat at .500 or better this late in the season in nine years. Although the same was true when it happened two months ago.

 

Friday, August 7 (Albany, NY)

We arrived at our hotel around 2:00 in the morning. This is my second trip to Tri-City but the first for game action. Last year, I was here for the All-Star Game.

The hotel is the reigning hotel of the year in the league and I can only assume it’s because of the two big courtyards, one of which features a lovely koi pond. This experience hasn’t been my best, though, because Trainer Tom and I have a serious leak in our bathroom. That’ll cost this place some points in the hotel of the year voting.

My first trip to Tri-City as a broadcaster was cut short because the game was rained out, but I got the chance to wander the park beforehand. I’ve been impressed on both of my trips here. The stadium was built into the middle of a college campus but with enough trees surrounding the facility that it feels somewhat isolated. A row of trees makes just about every ballpark better, and this one’s got several of them.

I also really like the group areas here. The architecture of the facility isn’t that impressive, but what they do with their space is. As I wandered, I met Kristen and Chris, a pair of ValleyCats employees who were working the bar in left field and were able to give me the lowdown on everything that’s been going on at the ballpark this year. I’m a pretty unfriendly guy, so it’s nice when people don’t recognize that fact and are willing to talk with me.

Since the game was postponed until tomorrow, I went out to dinner with Adam Cohen, the broadcaster of the ValleyCats. Adam’s been in the league for four years now, but this was the first time that I had met him and it was great getting to know him over a meal at Ben’s Diner (The Tipsy Moose was an hour wait for a table, so we left). It’s been interesting as the league has expanded that you don’t play everyone each year anymore so it’s possible to go several seasons without seeing teams on the other side of the league.

I didn’t get a chance to meet Marc Ernay, the New York broadcaster, when we were there this week because he wasn’t able to get to the ballpark for that series. I did, though, have a good conversation with Josh and Dylan, his interns, about their press box operations. Because I visit Midwest Conference stadiums multiple times per year, I know a lot of front office people for most of the teams. It’s strange to go somewhere like New York, where I didn’t talk to anyone I knew the whole time I was there. Dylan and Josh and Kevin Tuve, their head of scouting, were the only three people I really met, but they were all good to talk with at least.

 

Thursday, August 6 (Somewhere between Nanuet and Albany, NY)

Today was one of my periodic reminders that the world has passed me by. There were two incidents that reinforced the fact that I’m living my life on an adjacent wavelength to the rest of the world.

The first was when Tino Novis approached me in the hotel lobby this afternoon. It was getaway day, so after getting kicked out of my hotel room, I figured on getting most of my work done in the lobby. When Tino came down, the first thing he said to me was a criticism of yesterday’s broadcast, when I mentioned that the village of Pomona (the home village of the New York Boulders) was incorporated by none other than Burgess Meredith. When I had read that earlier in the day, I immediately thought it worthy to bring up on the air. What hadn’t occurred to me was that it isn’t 1966 and Burgess Meredith isn’t a household name. Tino was shocked that I would just casually mention his name without offering additional context, “like he’s George Clooney or Tom Cruise.”

Well, I thought Tino was wrong and that most people would know the man who played the Penguin and Mickey Goldmill. Heck, I even mentioned that he’s probably one of my most imitated actors ever, if only for the line, “That’s not fair.” Trainer Tom, though, was in strong agreement that no one but me knows Burgess Meredith and so, began an informal poll of the ThunderBolts’ clubhouse. After the game, I got the results. Including coaches, the number of people familiar with his name was: 0. Maybe I was wrong after all.

 

The other, more pronounced, instance of the world having passed me by came in the bottom of the second inning of tonight’s game. John Schroeder hit a flyball to the right field fence that forced Michael Sandle to leap, not at the wall, but over the wall, falling back on to the patio below while holding on to the ball and making one of the best catches I’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing.

The play was remarkable, but the broadcaster’s call was not. As I reflected on it afterwards, it occurred to me, as it so often does, that I’m not cut out for the modern world of broadcasting. I call most games as though I am working on radio, which is fair, because I am, but all games are simulcast on radio and TV and the majority of the audience is tuned in on the visual medium.

When I first came up as a broadcaster, there wasn’t much choice but to cut your teeth in radio, which I always thought of as a good thing because it’s the best way to learn how to describe action and even on TV, that’s a skill that comes in handy often. More and more often, though, young broadcasters don’t come up that way. Most colleges have TV programs now and not everyone learns how to call games for the radio. That feels like a negative thing to me because I love radio so much, but I don’t think it actually is. If there are more jobs available in television or video streaming, then why shouldn’t you be learning that skillset first and foremost?

In a social media world, it’s also probably true that if you announce an exciting play, far more people will watch the highlight than saw it live, so having a dramatic or entertaining call serves your audience better than anything I’ve ever tried to do. My only goals as a broadcaster have always been to describe action clearly and concisely, using my voice to hopefully convey the appropriate emotions of each play. I have never cared about dramatic highlights or viral moments or being a character to give the joint atmosphere.

I don’t say this about myself as either a positive or a negative; it’s simply the way I work. But the more time passes, the more I feel like I’m not serving the audience appropriately. On the Sandle catch, I called the play tentatively, slowly, first because when he went over the wall, I was initially concerned that he might be hurt, considering the area he landed was solid concrete. Second, because I truly had no idea if he had caught the ball or not and even if he had, if the umpire would give him credit for the out. I think that the slow build to my play-by-play matched the tone of the crowd, who let out a collective gasp when he went over the fence, but didn’t start cheering until several seconds later, when it was clear that the out call was being made. It wasn’t a particularly good call by me, but I’m not unhappy with the style with which I delivered it. The problem for me was that after the out was confirmed, it was instantly clear that this would be one of the most widely viewed highlights of the year, and as a short clip that would be shared all over social media, my energy didn’t match the drama of the play, so even if I was comfortable with my process (if not the actual words I said), I don’t think I did a good enough job in servicing my audience.

Thinking about this has left me in a melancholy mood tonight, even though the game was one of the most fun ones we’ve had all year. And of course, feeling sad when I shouldn’t just makes me feel worse.

In any case, like with all of my crises of broadcasting skills, this one will pass. I have to be ready to announce another game tomorrow, but I know these thoughts will stick with me for a long time as I continue to reevaluate what exactly is the best way to announce a game.

 

Wednesday, August 5 (Nanuet, NY)

Today should have been the tougher decision. I still needed to go for that long run, but instead of Buffalo Wild Wings, the New York Yankees were calling. For a while now, we had been planning to head to Yankee Stadium after one of our day games against the Boulders, but when the time came, I decided to pull out. I had that long run scheduled and a lot of work to catch up on, plus I need to find time to write these goofy blogs, right? The train ride to the Bronx is close to two hours, so in the end I determined that I didn’t really want to go and the only reason to do it was to cross Yankee Stadium off the bucket list, but I should have more opportunities in future years. I figured that if someone else dragged me out there, I wouldn’t fight it, but I wasn’t going to be the ringleader. Several players ended up going, but all of the staff backed out as well, so it was an easy no for me.

Instead, I took off toward Lake DeForest on my evening run. I didn’t actually know anything about Lake DeForest, but I saw that it was nearby and I want to see some body of water while I’m here, gosh darn it.

As usual, I set out with a half-baked plan and almost immediately lost my way, deciding to just go straight for a while so that I wouldn’t get lost. Eventually, I made my first turn and was immediately attacked by a dog. This fella was small, but fierce and had murder in his eyes. Somehow (and I’m honestly not sure how), I shook him off and he returned to his owner, who, in my opinion, wasn’t concerned enough by her terrorizing hound. (Side note: I’m not a dog owner, but I feel like if your pet has the tendency to assault every passerby, he probably shouldn’t be unleashed in the front yard. Then again, maybe it isn’t every passerby. Maybe he just found something particularly odious about me.)

Dog rants aside, my run was dreadfully hilly, which is probably a good thing for my marathon training, and I did ultimately get lost, as usual, but more importantly, I found the water. I had to trespass on private property to get there (and there were quite a few signs telling me to turn around), but I had to at least see the lake for a minute. It was beautiful, and as soon as I got there, the skies opened and it began raining, like a scene in a not-very-good movie.

The rain followed me all the way back to the hotel and it was actually a welcome refreshment at first. Once my feet started to get wet, though, the second half of the run became less and less enjoyable. The sloshing on every step made it feel like I was walking through the Ozinga Field press box.

On the way back, I did something that I never do and, though I hated to change my standards today, I backtracked down the same path I had come down originally. Especially when I’m in an unfamiliar area, I love to see as much of that area as possible. The idea of going down the same streets I just ran through feels depressing, but the roads were all hilly and winding and half of them came to dead ends. Aside from that, it was getting dark. It seemed like the only responsible thing to do was to retrace my steps and follow the same path back, and for once, I actually did the responsible thing. I made it back to the hotel sopping wet and completely worn out from the final hill, but I came in at almost exactly 12 miles, so I’ll call it a victory.

 

I should say at least a few words about baseball. The Bolts won! Justin Fogel was the headliner with five hits and four RBIs, but the weirdest stat of the day came from the pitching staff. Four Windy City pitchers combined to finish with 13 walks and only one strikeout. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a number like that and certainly not in a win, but all’s well that ends well.

Jeffrey Nelson, who worked with me on ThunderBolts broadcasts last year and is now the voice of the New Jersey Jackals, stopped by for the first half of the game and spent a few innings on air with me. It was great to see him and a lot of fun to work with him again. Overall, start to finish, I thought it was one of the more fun broadcasts of the entire season.

 

Tuesday, August 4 (Nanuet, NY)

I guess we’ve all faced this question some time or another: Should I go for a 12-mile run or spend six hours at Buffalo Wild Wings?

We had a day game in New York today, which meant a free evening and a good chance for me to go on a long run. I’m at the stage of marathon prep now in which I should be going on a 15+ mile run once a week. I did my first 15-miler two weeks ago after a home day game but haven’t had the chance to go on another since. I should be increasing my distances, but because it’s been a while now, I figured on settling for 12 today.

Only I didn’t do the 12 or any miles for that matter. After the game ended, the coaching staff decided to visit Buffalo Wild Wings, and since I hadn’t eaten a single thing since yesterday, I went along. It was a good time and a good meal, and by about 6:00, it was time to go. I knew that it was going to be hard to gear up for a long run right after eating a bunch of chicken wings, but we still had two and a half hours before sunset, so I’d figure it out.

Just then, though, TJ Stanton and Mark Reardanz, the Boulders’ manager and pitching coach, walked in. I don’t spend very much time talking with opposing coaches and I relish the opportunities when they present themselves, so I stuck around. Next thing I knew, it was 9:00 and I definitely wasn’t going running today. To really hammer home the lack of fitness, Tino Novis, Tom Martin and I ended the dinner by grabbing milkshakes from Shake Shack on the walk home.

Later on, I sat on the patio outside the hotel, which turned out to be a pleasant enough place to prepare my notes for tomorrow’s game. Eventually, Brian White and Tino came out as well, just enjoying a nice night. When Carter Delaney showed up, he shared that he and a bunch of the other players had just gotten back from the city. They saw the Statue of Liberty and Times Square… and I had spent six hours at Buffalo Wild Wings and the rest of the night doing work on a patio. Sometimes the players have things figured out a lot better than I do.

 

Today was my first time visiting Clover Stadium in New York, and I thoroughly enjoyed the stadium. I did my customary walk around and was thrilled that I could actually walk around. It’s one of the rare Frontier League ballparks that allows you to do a 360-degree loop. I also took a walk down to the field, where there is a brand new playing surface, state of the art artificial turf that doesn’t include any rubber pellets. I asked a bunch of the player what they thought of it and the standard answer was something along the lines of: It’s weird. Good weird or bad weird will be determined over the next three days, I suppose, but it’s definitely different.

The press box isn’t one of the nicest I’ve ever been in, but that’s mostly because of the view. The space is nice, but it’s located down the third base line with windows that don’t quite open, leaving a very awkward view of the action. At least I’ll have an excuse this week when I blow a call.

 

Monday, August 3 (Nanuet, NY)

Today opens our longest road trip of the year, distance-wise. With that in mind, it seems high time to start with the daily updates again.

 

We’ve arrived in New York. After yesterday’s game ended, I had about six hours to kill before our midnight bus trip and half of that time was spent combing through pictures to find one of Tom Martin, our trainer, to use with today’s feature article.

The 13-hour bus ride wasn’t too bad. About an hour or so into the trip, I closed my eyes. I didn’t open them again for another six or seven hours. I faded in and out of sleep and I’m not really sure how much I slept, but it was enough that the rest of my Monday wasn’t completely destroyed. I was awake enough when we pulled in to our hotel.

Awake enough, that is, to have a functional day. There still didn’t seem like a whole lot to accomplish today, though, so I relaxed before heading out on an evening run through the unfamiliar terrain of New York.

It was the first time my feet have hit the ground in the state I’ll be running the marathon in and, although I know that this isn’t the course I’ll be running, I have started to come to terms with why so many people have told me the New York marathon is harder than Chicago. There are hills everywhere. This is significantly more difficult than running at home. Unrelated, this isn’t an easy area to navigate on foot. Half the streets wind up in dead ends and I have to turn around and find a different route.

At one point, I stumbled upon Lake Nanuet Park, which meant that Lake Nanuet couldn’t be far away and I do love running along water. But I couldn’t find the lake. It didn’t seem to be anywhere nearby. Weirdly, I was also the only person at th e park. It was a lovely night and a really nice park with a giant pool and multiple baseball diamonds, and they were all empty. Have we really reached the end of summer already? There are no Little League games to occupy the fields? No kids in the pool or on the playground? This whole experience has been kind of depressing. I guess we’re less than five weeks from the end of Frontier League season and just a few weeks from the start of the school year. Where did the time all go?

We’ve got an early game tomorrow, so I guess that’s a question I’ll have to ponder another time. Early to bed and all that…

 

Wednesday, July 30 (East St. Louis, IL)

Whenever I give a tour, I always ask each guest to introduce themselves and share where they’re from. This Monday, one of the first people said she was from St. Louis. When I made a face, she quickly interjected, “But I’m not a Cardinals fan.”

“Well, that’s at least one point in your favor,” I responded. Beyond the Cardinals, though, I still hate St. Louis, so naturally, I was mean to her from that point on. When it was time for the next girl to introduce herself, she told me (not terribly kindly) that she was also from St. Louis, “And I am a Cardinals fan.”

Yikes. This was definitely going to be a challenge. It turned out that both girls were from the same group of about 13 recent college grads who were just starting up a year of charity work in Chicago. Maybe four of them were from St. Louis and they seemed to enjoy my commentary less than the average tour guest. I just hope they took my constant belligerent bashing of their hometown in the good nature with which it was intended.

By the end of the tour, one of the girls asked me, “Have you ever even been to St. Louis?” I told her that I’ve been there many times. “In fact,” I said. “I’m going there tomorrow.”

In response, she recommended that I check out Forest Park, the supposed best area of the city but one that I had somehow never visited before, so I agreed that I’d give it a shot, and hopefully the matter was settled.

On the way out, I decided it was important that I also take a shot at Notre Dame, where several of them had just graduated, and that opened a whole new can of worms, but they had already tipped me by then, so I was OK with it. I just hope no one from the group leaves a review online.

Anyway, today was the day to finally visit Forest Park. I wanted to run around eight miles, so I took the train halfway, jogged the rest of it and was pleasantly surprised as I neared the titular park. The neighborhood surrounding it was already far nicer than anything I had ever seen in the city, and that was before I arrived in the park itself.

That was a massive expanse: 1,371 acres, according to the guy at the welcome center desk. The park, aside from featuring some nice running space, included a free zoo (good, but there were no bears out; I planned on talking on tonight’s broadcast about my visit with some real gateway grizzlies, but they were all hiding in a cave or something), multiple free museums (the St. Louis History Museum was awesome with my only reservation being that it forced me to learn about St. Louis history; the art museum was equally impressive; I’m not really an art guy but the building was originally designed for the 1904 world’s fair, so to me, the architecture was cooler than anything inside it), and the country’s biggest outdoor theater (I couldn’t get close enough for it to make a real impression on me).

I’m not sure why Forest Park isn’t advertised more. It’s awfully impressive and by far the best thing I’ve seen in the city – even better than the arch, which previously held the title of “The One Thing I Liked in St. Louis.” I still don’t, and never will, like this city, but I have to admit, it’s been bumped up a notch.

 

As for baseball, the Bolts lost today 16-7. It was a disappointing result specifically because of how great yesterday’s game was. The series opened with an 8-1 win and was immediately followed by the news that we were getting two more wins added to our total because of a roster mistake made by the Joliet Slammers in May. They had too many veterans on the team and so, had to forfeit three of their games, two of which were played against the Bolts. They also had to unload one of their veterans, so they traded Liam McArthur to the good ol’ ThunderBolts. He’s been hitting .400 ever since. That means, the Bolts got two wins and a star hitter out of the Joliet clerical error. It also means yesterday was a three-win day. Not bad, all things considered.

The only problem with Tuesday was that when we arrived back at the hotel, one of our players’ rooms still wasn’t ready yet. Dante Maietta and Carlos Pena were stuck in the lobby, and they weren’t alone. There were also two women who were in town from Schaumburg (yuck) to see the Cubs play the Cardinals. Their room had been given away, so they were stuck too.

Amidst all the frustration, we got to talking and it turned out that the two women were sisters who had grown up in Berwyn, just like me. Maietta is a Berwynite too, which they were pretty excited about.

“Did you go to Morton West High School?” they asked. Dante said yes (side note: I was a substitute teacher there when he was a student. I don’t remember for sure, but I’m certain he must have made me hit my head against the wall at some point back then. Everyone did.)

I told them that I hadn’t gone to Morton. “I went to Fenwick.” Both women scoffed. “Of course,” one of them said. “You would go to Fenwick.” I don’t know how, but I really seem to make an unfavorable impression on people. Maybe it was because I told them to come to a ThunderBolts-Boomers game when we’re in town but that they weren’t allowed to root for Schaumburg.

The rooms issue notwithstanding, it was a great night yesterday. Once everything was cleared up, we went to the casino at the hotel and toasted the first three-victory night in franchise history.

The team just can’t seem to gain momentum this time of year, though. Today’s loss slowed down the parade, but there’s always tomorrow. Who knows what another day in St. Louis will bring?

 

Sunday, July 19 (Evansville, IN)

I can’t remember the last time I came to Evansville and didn’t have to deal with rain. I don’t think this is a particularly wet part of the country, but we seem to have a delay or a postponement every time we’re here. Back in May, a Saturday rain out led to a Sunday doubleheader and now the same thing has happened again on this trip.

Evansville is one of the few parks remaining in this league that still has natural grass, although rumors are that they may go to turf soon too. While I understand that decision when any team makes it, it’ll be especially sad if and when it happens here. The ballpark is not in great shape everywhere because of its age, but I still love coming here for the history of it all. If it starts to lose that, the deficiencies become more and more evident.

Weather aside, Evansville has become one of those places where the Bolts rarely win and a loss in the series finale today would drop the team below .500 for the first time since June 14, so there’s a lot at stake. While I write this in the hotel lobby, the World Cup final is on the TV, so I’ll keep it brief today. Excelsior!

 

Saturday, July 4 (Avon, OH)

I’ve always enjoyed playing at Lake Erie for Independence Day. Back in the old days, when we stayed at a different hotel, I would make the two mile walk to the lake, which was a great place to spend a summer afternoon, holiday or not. I have often missed those meandering walks this year as I’ve traded them for training runs instead. I cover a lot more ground when I’m running, but the general sense of purpose on these runs makes me notice and appreciate a little less of what I see.

 

From our current hotel, the lake is about a six-mile journey, and I have no intention to take on a 12-plus mile run today, so I decided to jog to my second favorite destination from the old days, Crocker Park, an outdoor mall which was right down the street from the old hotel and is now about a three and a half mile jaunt. That set me up for an eight-mile run, which seemed more doable today.

The park wasn’t as full as I’ve usually seen it in the past, but I think a big part of the reason is because several stores were closed for the holiday. It’s hard to know for sure, though, because it’s been years since I’ve been there. I’ve written before about the decline of malls as witnessed through my time in the Frontier League, but I recently read that malls are coming back in style, and especially outdoor malls like this one, so my money says this place is probably still a big draw on a different summer day. On this summer day, I was just grateful that the Barnes and Noble was open because it allowed me to hang out in the air conditioning for a while at the halfway point of my run.

 

The ThunderBolts continue to excite on the road. They swept the doubleheader today, with the game two win coming down to a Justin Fogel home run with the team down to their final strike. Winning at home is great, but it’s always slightly more satisfying to win on the road because I have to get on the bus with the team after the game.

With Gateway and Schaumburg continuing to struggle, the Bolts’ hold on first place feels less tenuous each day. I keep waiting for one of these teams to get on a roll and establish themselves as the favorite, but lately, other than the Bolts’ one eight-game winning streak, nobody has. Who knows, maybe it’ll just play out like this all year.

 

Thursday, June 25 (Washington, PA)

Yesterday, I tried to keep my run as flat as possible, but failed, so today, I decided to lean in to the hills of the Allegheny Plateau. As I left the hotel, I ran directly uphill for about a mile and a half, and this time I did something I almost never do; I mapped out my route beforehand. Unfortunately, the streets in the hills were not as well labeled as I hoped and it’s hard to have a clear perspective on where you are when you’re ready to pass out from exhaustion, so I completely missed my planned route and eventually just turned around an went back.

What I hadn’t planned for was that running straight downhill isn’t easy either. Easier than running uphill, certainly, but much more terrifying. I couldn’t slow myself down, which meant that I at least made record time getting back to the hotel. The run down, in fact, was so fast that I felt like I hadn’t run far enough after all. The feeling wasn’t strong enough to run any further, but it was there. Three miles isn’t very much, but when half of it is uphill the whole way, I feel I’ve done my job for the day.

 

After I got kicked out of my hotel room, I spent the afternoon lounging by the pool. Maybe lounging isn’t the right word. I actually used the entire time to get work done, but it’s not always nice enough out to do that on a pool deck chair, so it was one of the most pleasant afternoons of work I’ve had in quite a while.

 

My day today could easily be split up into three clearly delineated segments. The first was that exhausting run. The second was my relaxing (yet still work-filled) afternoon, and the third was one of the longest baseball games I’ve ever worked. That middle stanza is looking more comfortable all the time.

Rain is never fun at a baseball game, but especially on getaway day. I figured we’d drive through the night and make it home around 6:00 in the morning. Not an ideal arrival time for a home gameday, but there’s not much we can do about that. Tonight, it rained softly for over an hour before pitch. It never came down hard but it was steady enough that we couldn’t start the game on time. Thus began a madcap evening of popup rain showers, indecisive umpires and a communication gap that left everyone unsure of whether or not we would ever have baseball.

The game started and stopped twice with only 11 total minutes being played in the first two scheduled hours. By the time we finally got the game rolling for real, there were maybe 40 fans in attendance, but if you’re going to sit out the rain that long, you know you’re going to stay the whole game. In this case, that meant staying until almost 1:30 in the morning. The ThunderBolts came from behind late to force extra innings then won in sudden death. If nothing else, this team is undoubtedly exciting to watch.

Now, after all the starts and stops, we’re ready to head home, where we should arrive between 9 and 10 am. That’ll mean straight to the press box when we arrive and hopefully I’ll have enough time to get ready for tomorrow night’s game.

The nine-game road trip finished with a 7-2 record and with the Bolts in first place. Now we’re home for the next six, so it might be some time before I update this guy again, but I’ll be back!

 

Wednesday, June 24 (Washington, PA)

First thing this morning, I went for a run through the hills of Washington, which make Evansville look like a runner’s paradise. There are no sidewalks pretty much anywhere around the hotel, which means I spent much of the time running on the road, and you know these Western Pennsylvania motorists. They’ll just as soon run you over as look at you. Eventually, I made it to a side road (Pike Street), which carried me in the same direction as the Pennsylvania Trolley Museum, which I walked to last year. It’s been named the Number One Small Museum, according to some billboard I saw yesterday.

My trip to the Trolley Museum last year wasn’t planned. I encountered a brochure for the museum and, trying to find more information about it, began to ask around. We went to a bar after the Pirates game and I spent a few minutes talking to the bartender about the museum. She had never heard of it, so couldn’t recommend it, but after leaving, Toby Hall, our interim manager at the time, remarked, “That was fun, watching Terry work his game on that bartender.” I assured him we were just having a conversation. “No,” he replied. “You know how I could tell she was interested in you? Because she kept talking to you even after you brought up the Trolley Museum.” This led to constant mockery of me for my fixation on the museum and at that point, I couldn’t just not go, so the next day, I took the hour-long walk and had a great time there. It really is a good museum.

It didn’t feel nearly as far away while I was running today but I also didn’t make it all the way there because much of the road once you start getting close is a glorified dirt path. Instead, I turned around and marveled that I was somehow still going uphill in both directions. I had planned on running 6-7 miles today, but I settled for about four and a half because I felt all the incline work would make up for the lack of mileage.

My previous two marathons were both run in Chicago, which I believe is the flattest major marathon in the world, which also makes it the easiest. New York isn’t exactly in the Allegheny Plateau like Washington is, but it’s a lot hillier than Chicago and people who have run both have told me it’s a lot harder, which means it would behoove me to make my training a little tougher as well. It’s hard to do that in Chicago (which it turns out is also pretty flat on non-marathon days), so it’s nice to have a few opportunities to run through mountainous terrain on the road. At least, I tell myself now that it’s nice. It definitely didn’t feel that way when I was running.

Sometimes the marathon training doesn’t seem worth it, but it definitely will be if I can raise enough money for Imerman Angels. Please donate today!!!

 

Today was a doubleheader day, which means early start time, which means not a lot of time to do anything else before hopping on the bus and getting to the ballpark.

Game one was a fairly comfortable 9-4 win but game two was a frustrating loss. Washington came from 5-1 behind to win 7-6. The Bolts’ offense was on fire for the first ten innings of the day but that all changed when the Wild Things put in their second best starting pitcher in the fourth inning of game two. Why they were using one of their top starters out of the bullpen, I wasn’t sure, but he steadied the game and allowed his team to come back, giving up just one run in three innings.

Then, with Washington ahead 7-6 in the seventh, Kobe Foster, the league’s best starting pitcher came in for the final three outs. It was only his third career relief appearance in five years, and first career save chance. Washington’s Tom Vaeth was managing like it was game five of the championship series, which I suppose is kind of flattering for the ThunderBolts. This was a big June game between two first place teams. I don’t know if the wacky bullpen management will have long-term implications for the Wild Things, but at least for today’s game, Vaeth pushed all the right buttons. The Wild Things held the Bolts off in game two.

That leaves tomorrow as the last chance to get a series split. It’s always nice to leave town on a high note, so that makes it another important game.

 

Tuesday, June 23 (Washington, PA)

Playing a day game the morning after a nine-hour bus journey isn’t the easiest way to start a new series. At least I assume it isn’t; I didn’t actually play. Announcing one is no picnic either, though. The winning streak came to an end after eight games with the Bolts trailing the whole way in an 8-3 final.

I had a really bad broadcast this morning. I don’t think I said anything interesting the whole time, though I did make Chris Dugan and Andrew Lorenzi – my press box compatriots here in Washington – laugh at least once, so it wasn’t a total loss.

I feel like I’ve been having a hard time broadcasting in general lately. Maybe it’s because I spend too much time on these blog entries and not enough on game prep. (Then why aren’t these better either?) It’s difficult to judge your own broadcast quality because you have to listen back to yourself to get a good feel for it and I don’t think anyone enjoys listening to themselves. As much as I hate to say it, I really have to rely on feedback from my audience to get the best sense of how I’m doing. It’s called “broad”casting for a reason. As much as I’d like to just go off my own impression, if I’m not serving the populace tuned in, I’m not actually doing my job.

Sometimes I wish I had chosen a less subjective profession. If I were a plumber, I’d know I was doing well if the toilet flushes properly next time. As a broadcaster, I never truly know.

Nine years ago, I wrote a book about working in minor league baseball and about halfway through the writing process, I came to a terrible realization. There really was no mass appeal to my book. There was no overarching story that would unite audiences. The conceit of the book was essentially spending a summer inside my head. The narration took the reader through everything I did, thought and said for the duration of baseball season. That meant that to foster an enjoyable reading experience, I needed the reader to enjoy spending time with me. It was the first time in my life I ever particularly cared what anybody else thought of me. Not caring was one of the staples of my personality. I suppose on some level, everyone wants to be liked, but I definitely didn’t to the extent that I would change my behavior in order to achieve approval from others, especially not strangers.

I think the experience of writing, and more importantly, publishing, my book changed me fundamentally, even if only slightly. Ever since then, I believe I’ve gotten softer in my desire for approval, especially from people I don’t know.

I think what it comes down to more than anything is the desire to make a positive difference in the world. I wouldn’t for a second suggest that I am doing anything important in my job, but just because it isn’t important doesn’t mean it can’t make a positive impact. There are hundreds, if not thousands of people, who would love to have the job that I have. If I don’t believe that I’m bringing something to the table that they wouldn’t (which isn’t the same as saying I have to be better than anyone else would be), then what’s the point of doing this? That’s one of the reasons I had such a difficult decision to make when I returned to broadcasting last year. After four years of doing PA, I knew I preferred to be broadcasting, but it was hard to justify replacing our existing announcer unless I felt like I could bring something different and exciting to the role.

The last few years, I’ve generally received more negative feedback than positive, so it can be difficult to figure out what to ignore and what to take to heart, but there are days like today when I know I wasn’t good enough. Hopefully tomorrow’s a better day, for all of us.

 

So, what do you do with a free evening in Washington? I guess the answer is simple; you get out of Washington. Mike, the bus driver, offered to take the team to Pittsburgh to check out the Pirates-Mariners game. Most of the team took him up on it and it was another beautiful evening at PNC Park.

We had one last year too. On an off day before our three-game series with the Wild Things, Toby Hall, Kevin Santiago, Trainer Tom (no last name, apparently) and I made a trip into the city for a Pirates game, so this has all become old hat. It remains one of my favorite MLB stadiums and it couldn’t have been a more perfect night to go there. We’re already trending upwards!

 

Monday, June 22 (Washington, PA)

We left Crestwood at 9:00 this morning, which is a pretty early departure for a non-gameday, but the early start allowed us to arrive at the hotel just before 7:00, so it was nice to have an entire free evening.

The trip was largely uneventful; I got some work done (not enough, but some), got a little bit of sleep (not enough, but some) and spent a lot of time staring out the window as the Midwest rolled by. I had a headache, so didn’t read a single page of my book. Embarassing.

Eventually, we got in to Washington with enough time to go to dinner at Primanti Bros., which I have been looking forward to since probably January, when Tom Carcione brought it up and I had to admit that I had not only never eaten there, but had never even heard of the place. The corned beef sandwich was certainly good, but the fact that I didn’t get the coleslaw on top of it drew our manager’s ire.

Tomorrow starts the four-game series with a 9:35 am first pitch (That’s Central Time; I never deviate.), so maybe I should sleep some.

 

Some stray observations from today’s journey:

o   We stopped for lunch in Perrysburg, Ohio, a city I’ve stayed in before. But I had never before seen Fort Meigs, the War of 1812 battle site that we passed by today. The site was named after Return Meigs, which apparently is someone’s name, but the historical marker indicated that it was actually our greatest president, William Henry Harrison, who commanded the fort.

o   We traveled behind a carnival for a good chunk of the drive. I don’t know where they were going, but I kind of wanted to keep following them rather than come to Washington.

o   I really don’t care for the shape of Ohio’s flag. I think it’s high time they get in line with the rest of us. I’ve felt this way for a long time but I finally feel like something needs to be said.

I think that’s a good place to go out for today, making another state hate me. Two down, 48 to go!

 

Sunday, June 21 (Forest Park, IL)

What have I done to deserve this? I make a promise to write every day about my journey with the ThunderBolts and immediately, there is no journey because we’re rained out twice in five days. What am I to write about now? Well… what did I do today without baseball? Laundry, that’s what. Is that worth writing about? Let’s see, I started with the whites. No, that’s no fun. Let me start over.

I was disappointed to receive word shortly after arriving in Schaumburg this morning that the game had been called off, but it was undoubtedly the right call. It began raining around an hour before what would have been first pitch and didn’t stop for at least the next ten hours. It might still be coming down; I haven’t checked since then. It’s frustrating, but there’s no one to blame but Mother Nature. Curse you, Mother Nature! I like my own mother better, anyway.

With no ThunderBolts game, I spent part of my afternoon tuned in to other Frontier League action. Gateway lost again, which means the Bolts will remain comfortably in first place through the off day. I’ve spent some time reflecting over the last few days on what it means to be broadcasting for a first place team. As I’ve written about many times in the past, I know it’s not my job to care about wins and losses, but that doesn’t change the fact that there’s an extra spring in the step of everyone around the ballpark when the team is good. Our front office has been remarkably steady, which means that most of us have been burned by the ThunderBolts enough times over the years to be skeptical of a strong start, but the deeper we get into the season, the more exciting it feels.

As a rookie broadcaster in 2010, when I called a demoralizing playoff loss in Traverse City (the last time I got to call a playoff game), I was so depressed that I vowed I would never be so emotionally invested in a team that I worked for again. I needed to keep it professional. In the last decade and a half, that emotional distance has been important because when you’re working for a second division team year after year, it’ll break you if you insist on riding the highs and lows of every game.

I’ll admit, though, as we enter the latter stages of June, the game results are starting to matter a lot more to me and the only way I can describe it is that it feels… good. Yeah, that’s the right word for it. It feels really good. As a broadcaster, not just of baseball, but anytime I’m on the air, I’ve always felt that my tone will carry over to the audience. If it sounds like I’m having fun, my audience will have fun too, even if they aren’t particularly interested in what I have to say. If I sound dour, that feeling will be infectious too. In the same vein, I think if the results start to matter more to me, that urgency will be reflected in the way I broadcast and will be transferred to my audience. (I’ve never asked; do I actually have an audience? I’m never sure if anyone is listening to me.)

I’ve spent so many years trying to tamp down the significance of any individual game and instead try to produce a fun listening experience that has little to do with the results, that this will be a refreshing change of pace if the winning continues. In any case, the team remains enjoyable to watch.

I think we’ll know a lot more about the quality of the ballclub over the next week and a half. After four games in Washington, the Bolts come home for six against Gateway and Florence. If they remain in contention after that gauntlet, it’ll be time to get excited. Set your clocks.

 

Saturday, June 20 (Schaumburg, IL)

Last night, as I exited Wintrust Field, I stopped by the table on the concourse down the first base line that was giving away free s’mores to pick up a late night snack. They weren’t there for me; they were for the kids that were spending the night for the Boomers’ sleepover night. But I was able to use my charms to secure one for myself. Either that or I stole it. You decide which is more likely. Anyway, I got a delicious free s’more and it wasn’t even worth writing about last night? How great is this job? That could have been the highlight of my week if I worked in accounting. Also, I probably wouldn’t be writing a travelogue if I were an accountant. Furthermore, I’d quickly lose my job for my lack of ability. In my current job, no one fires you for that apparently.

 

If there’s one thing I miss about my pre-baseball life, it’s a summer Saturday afternoon. The world seems to come to life, especially on a nice day like today was. For all my lamenting about commuter trips, they allow me to set my schedule a little easier. This morning, I got back to my training, running five miles through an idyllic setting, and I got to encounter lots of people who were out enjoying life along the way. Most of the time, I hate people, but there’s something really positive about the energy of folks who have no responsibilities on a summer day. One fellow smiled at me as I slowed my jog at a stop light and said, “You picked a good day for it!” I couldn’t do anything but smile back and respond politely even though the idea is ludicrous that anyone you’d encounter out for a run would have just picked a day at random, hoping the weather turns out to be good that day. I mean, I guess that is kind of what I do, but I do it several times a week. Most runners don’t just go out once in a blue moon. Anyway, it’s good to meet friendly people.

I felt good that I was able to get my running back on track and I felt good that the library was open again so I had a place to get my work done, but what I feel even better about is that the ThunderBolts made it eight in a row tonight. Facing the 2023 Frontier League Pitcher of the Year, I was reminded, as I often am, that it isn’t 2023 anymore. Another productive day for the offense led to a 6-3 win, and now I get to go searching through the record books to find out when the Bolts’ last nine-game winning streak was. That’s research I enjoy. (note: I actually enjoy it so much that I didn’t want to wait. I took a break from writing this to find the answer. It’s 2008.)

A win tomorrow would be a third straight series sweep, something that hasn’t happened since 2007 (I took another research break). Then it’s a long Monday bus ride to Washington. It looks like that’ll be a battle of first place teams. I should stop now. I have to go remind myself that it’s still only June.

 

Friday, June 19 (Schaumburg, IL)

The ThunderBolts won their seventh straight game tonight, so I spent much of the broadcast running through “first time since…” stats. Here’s a rundown of a few:

·      First time sweeping back-to-back series since 2013

·      First seven-game win streak since 2016

·      First time above .500 through 35 games since 2017

·      First time in first place after June 8 since 2012

These are, of course, negative stats disguised as positive stats because all they’re doing is underscoring the team’s struggles over the last decade and a half, but everything feels positive to me. For a long time, I’ve asked only one thing as a broadcaster. I’d like to call meaningful baseball games after the all-star break. It seems like a modest goal, but I haven’t done it in nine years (and those post all-star break games were devastating, so I’m never satisfied). This year, since we’re only three weeks from the break, it would take a pretty big collapse to not at least be in the race at the start of the second half. It’s hard not to get excited about that.

 

I always feel weird during commuter trips and this is part two of back-to-back such series. I never quite know how to line up my day for these, but I do much prefer going to Schaumburg than Joliet. It’s just a 25-minute drive from home, so easy to get to. When we play in Schaumburg, I typically try to go to the library to get all my pregame work done, but it was a holiday today, so all the libraries were closed. That meant I had to stay in my depressing home, where I find it very difficult to work. At least I got to keep the World Cup on in the background. It’s the first time I’ve actually had the chance to watch any of it.

The laxer schedule for the commuter trips should also give me more time to run, but I just went ahead and didn’t do that today. Marathon training is going swimmingly, isn’t it? To be frank, it wasn’t a very productive day at all, but it’s amazing how quickly that feeling of unaccomplishment (not a real word, I know) disappears when you get to watch a fun baseball game in the evening. This was a fun one. Weird, a lot of errors, but not many walks, so I categorize it as fun. It was another nice night too. Not a bad office view in Schaumburg this weekend:

 

Thursday, June 18, (Joliet, IL)

Wouldn’t you know it? I make a promise to write every day during the road trip and right away, we have a doubleheader that goes to 11:30 at night. Now, after midnight and following a six-plus hour broadcast, I have to pretend I’m coherent enough to write something intelligible. OK, here goes…

For all my wailing about yesterday’s rain out, it really lined things up nicely both for me and the team. For starters, I got to go on my extended run last night (update: my legs were only a little sore today). For the team, it allowed Tom Carcione to throw two of his best pitchers out there in seven-inning games, which is usually a recipe for success and was again today. The Bolts swept the doubleheader, improving to 18-16, the best 34-game mark for this team since 2017.

The wins made it two straight series sweeps and a six-game win streak. Game one tonight came down to the wire before game two was decided in a blowout. During the game one broadcast, I spent some time retelling the story of Tuesday night’s come-from-behind win. What stood out to me more than anything was that the Bolts had hit their way to victory. We’ve had a lot of close game lately and almost all of them have been decided by walks, so as a fan, it was so much more fun watching a team come back using pure offensive firepower.

That’s not what happened today. Joliet forced the first game to extras thanks to a barrage of late walks that forced in a few runs and the tone was set in game two when the Bolts took five walks in the first inning to open a big lead. Eventually, the bats got going too. They hit five home runs in the doubleheader, which was a fun change of pace.

When you come to the ballpark every day, it’s nice to see a variety of styles. No one wants to see cookie cutter games every night, so it’s great that we were able to see some homers today from a team that usually scores their runs by stringing together a bunch of singles. In any case, this team is really fun to watch. They do a lot of things well offensively and defensively.

Pitching has struggled but that’s less a Windy City issue than it is a baseball issue. The last several years covering college baseball, I’ve seen the quality of play steadily eroding and it seems like that trend has made its way up to the professional ranks. In a world of hard analytical data, scouts seem more interested in raw numbers than in situational pitching ability. Because of that, I don’t think pitchers are being taught how to pitch from a young age anymore. More often, they’re being taught how to juice those specific numbers. That has led to a whole pool of guys who can’t throw strikes. The Frontier League cumulative ERA right now is more than a run higher than it was last year, which was already one of the highest numbers in league history. Walks are off the charts. The ThunderBolts pitching staff is on pace to break the league walks record by almost 50, and there are several teams in the league that have issued more.

The Frontier League isn’t the only league experiencing this, but it’s the baseball I’m watching every day, so it’s the one I’ve taken most notice of. As long as the Bolts keep winning, the walk numbers won’t put a huge damper on the effect of the results, but there’s no doubt games have been less clean and have been running much longer this year (e.g. tonight’s post-midnight writing session).

Tomorrow we head to Schaumburg, keeping this commuter road trip going. The Boomers are 15-3 at home, so the weekend figures to be a real challenge, but we approach it as the higher seeded team. Tonight’s research project: try to find the last time these teams have faced each other with the ThunderBolts in a higher position on the standings board. I’ll have the answer by tomorrow. Looking forward to a fun weekend!

 

Wednesday, June 17 (Forest Park, IL)

How odd it feels to write my “travelogue” from inside my own home, but we had a rain out in Joliet today, so with a free evening, I figured it was high time to resurrect this moribund log. Throughout the first month-plus of this Frontier League season, I’ve rediscovered my old friend lethargy. It’s really easy to find excuses not to do things, so that’s just what I’ve done: found excuses and not done things. But no more. The Bolts are on the road for the next week still, so I am going to commit myself to writing every day for the rest of this trip. That’ll get me through next Thursday, June 25. Please hold me to it.

OK, I’ll admit it. My lethargic realization wasn’t just about writing. I’ve also had a hard time keeping my marathon training going lately (but not my charity fundraising if you make a donation below!), so today’s rain out may actually have been a blessing in disguise for me. Shortly before Joliet called the game, the skies and the forecast began to clear, so by the time I got home this evening, it was actually one of the loveliest nights of the year weather-wise. In order to fully take advantage, I took myself out for a ten-mile run, the first time I hit the double-digit mark since my debacle in Evansville a few weeks ago. Trainer Tom recently warned me that I’m setting myself up for an injury by going long periods between runs then doing a long one, but he’s a baseball trainer, not a marathon trainer, so what does he know? And anyway, I’ve only been home for a few hours and I can already almost stand up again, so everything’s fine.

The last time I trained for a marathon, I tried to be more regimented with my running schedule, but time has been so limited this year, that I just go out whenever I can and run for as long as I can. I know this is terrible for my body, but I have found it to be fairly difficult to find time to create a running schedule when the team is on the road and darn near impossible when they’ve been at home. Today’s extended session was less about feeling the need for a ten-mile run than it was about it being a beautiful night. I finally got the chance to just enjoy being outside and exploring the Northwest side of Chicago as I used to but haven’t had the chance to lately. I kept running because I was enjoying it, not because I felt I needed to cover a certain distance.

I was looking forward to a ballgame tonight and part of me felt that I should have been annoyed by a rain out on a sunny, pleasant evening. And it was definitely weird jogging through parks where 16” softball and Little League games were going on, knowing that our team was given the night off, but it turned out to be a nice evening. I wish it were the start of my renewed vigor toward marathon training, but I’m sure it’s a one-off. Anyway, at least I’ll be writing more!

 

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Thursday, June 4 (heading out of Florence, KY by bus)

The last three games were maybe the craziest series of baseball I’ve ever seen. Tonight’s 20-19 loss certainly ranks near the top of games I’ll never forget. It says something when the details of a wild 13-12 loss yesterday are already hazy in my mind because I’m trying to work out what nonsense happened yesterday, what happened today, and if perhaps I actually dreamt all of it.

In the midst of today’s nutty contest, I got a text from skipper Tom Carcione, who usually doesn’t even carry his phone in the dugout during games. He had been trying to work out a trade with Ottawa for one of their star players but it required the Bolts signing a college catcher out of California and including him in the deal. Just prior to gametime, the catcher was still on the fence but as the game got going, success! He agreed to sign, only we had to get him a contract right away. Fortunately, this is the one trip that my broadcast partner, Zach, came along on, so I was able to hand the reins to him for an inning while I ironed out the paperwork.

This was the first time I can remember that I had a manager ask me to sign a player midgame, but it’s far from the weirdest place I’ve had to work out a deal. For the record, I have no say in player transactions, I just sign the contracts and do my best to make sure our roster is organized, but last season, there was one moment at least where I had to act as liaison between two managers trying to work out a postseason trade.

It was early September and our season had already ended, so I was back in college football mode and getting ready to work a game in Maryland. We had a free evening the day before the game, so got some sightseeing in around Washington, DC. My fellow broadcasters and I had made it to the White House when the skies opened and it started to pour. As I sought shelter futilely under a large tree, I received a call from an Atlantic League manager who was trying to trade for pitcher Nolan LaMere. The Atlantic League season extends later than ours and they wanted him for the stretch run. I called our manager, Toby Hall (who now manages Florence), to work out the details with him before calling the Atlantic League team back. All of this had to be done rapidly because they wanted LaMere in uniform that night and the daily transaction deadline was just minutes away. I had to race to make sure that all of the trade agreements were signed and sent on time, which wasn’t easy because I had to do it all on my phone, which was drenched from the rain storm. And again, all this was happening on the lawn right outside the White House. The whole experience was surreal, kind of like calling a 20-19 baseball game. Anyway, the trade agreement was processed on time, then the rain stopped and we took a walk to Ford’s Theatre, so it all worked out. Well, not for Lincoln, but you know…

 

Before I sign off, here’s my regular reminder to help provide one-on-one support to cancer fighters, survivors, previvors and caregivers. Donate to Imerman Angels!

 

Saturday, May 23 (Evansville, IN)

It’s been a wacky couple of days in Evansville. I guess wacky is probably the wrong word to describe last night. What would be better? Maybe… not wacky. We were rained out, which seems to happen every time we come here. It’s one of the worst places in the league to get a postponement because there is nothing around the hotel other than a Denny’s, so predictably, I spent the night at Denny’s (I guess if you like their grand slam, it’s really a great place to get a postponement).

 

Today, prior to our doubleheader, I decided it was time to stretch my running distances a bit. I had less game prep to do because there wasn’t a game yesterday, so I prepped instead to go on my first ten-mile run of the year. I’d peaked at nine before today and crossing over into double digits seems like a significant training milestone.

There are no sidewalks near the hotel in Evansville, so to go exploring beyond the Denny’s requires the willingness to walk on the side of the interstate. I’ve tried this before with terrifying results (note to assuage any concern: nothing that happened was terrifying; I was just terrified at every car that whizzed by at 70 miles per hour, 18 inches away from me). Still, I reasoned that if I was running, I would be spending less time on the road, and I was right. Unfortunately, that was the only part of the run that went to plan.

Coming to Evansville rather depresses me. I’m sure there are very nice parts of town, but we stay in the middle of nowhere (Denny’s excluded from criticism) and even after I braved the interstate and made it through to the town itself, I mostly found industrial parks and rundown houses. One of the few things I actually like about running is getting to discover new neighborhoods around Chicago and beyond, but this one left me wanting. Still, I made it what I figured was approximately five miles and turned around to travel the same distance back to the hotel.

I didn’t want to retrace my steps and see the exact same roads, so I took a different route back, which is probably not a good idea when I don’t know where I am in the first place. When I run, I like to keep myself free from distractions and my pockets free from jangling, so I never carry a phone or any sort of GPS or communication device. All I had with me was my hotel card key, so when I inevitably got myself lost, I was pretty much stuck.

One thing I’ve probably always taken for granted living in Chicago is that no matter how lost I get (and I get myself lost often) I can fairly easily find my way to some landmark I know or at least a street that’s familiar because we were built on a grid system (that’s why Chicago is better than all other cities). At very least, I always know if I’m going east/west or north/south and how far I am from State and Madison. Not so in Evansville. Some of these roads have slight curves in them that were imperceptible to me as I ran but occasionally, out of nowhere, I was going south when I thought I was going west. Or something like that, anyway. I don’t know. All that matters is that for a while, I didn’t have a clue where I was.

I tend not to panic, but there was a stretch where I legitimately thought I was going to miss the bus to the stadium even though I left the hotel more than four hours before it was scheduled to depart. Eventually, though, I did make it back to that main interstate, only I was about two miles from where I thought I was. In the end, I got back to the hotel only a little the worse for wear but having accidentally run 13 miles. My body isn’t nearly ready for that much yet, but I guess it fits right in to my slapdash prep for this November’s race.

 

The Bolts got swept in their doubleheader today. Here’s hoping for more success tomorrow…for all of us!

 

Friday, May 15 (East St. Louis, IL)

Although anyone who knows me or has been on one of my tours knows of my disdain for St. Louis, it is always one of my favorite road trips of the year. It’s nice to be in a city, any city, when you’re accustomed to staying in the middle of nowhere. Each year, when we’re in town to play Gateway, I make sure to find time to explore the city by foot. One year, we happened to be here for the grand opening of the Museum of Westward Expansion, so I was one of the first people ever to visit it. Another, I just happened upon the championship parade for the St. Louis Blues, who had won the Stanley Cup that year. It’s still the only championship parade I’ve ever been to (until the ThunderBolts go marching down Cicero Ave. this September).

This year, I took a different tack, journeying through the city on a jog rather than a walk. This allowed me to see a bit more than I usually do. Even though I was supposed to be training, I made plenty of stops on my run, paying visits to the St. Louis Library, the Old Courthouse and the Soldiers Memorial Military Museum. I also happened upon a protest in front of City Hall, which is a striking building.

I had to pull that picture off the Internet since I don’t carry my phone with me when I run, but the building really left an impression. No wonder St. Louis is so scary. Their mayor works out of a vampire’s castle.

Maybe all the residents are scared too (protestors aside). I ran into almost no one today, literally or otherwise. On my Chicago tours each week, I talk to guests from all over the world and hear lots of stories about downtowns that have gone silent post-pandemic. I’m not sure this one was ever all that vibrant, but it’s dead today, on a Friday, and that feels disconcerting.

Less disconcerting: the ThunderBolts won again today. That’s a 6-2 start to the season. I know they can’t keep up at this pace all season, but it’s nice to have these wins in the bank.

 

Tuesday, May 12 (Avon, OH)

Aside from announcing baseball games and training for a marathon, I’m trying to spend as much time as I can this summer giving walking tours around downtown Chicago. Since Monday is our only team off day, that’s the only day of the week I’m able to partake in that particular activity. This is actually the third straight year I’m giving every Monday tours, which is a lot of fun but does lead to certain problems. Problem number one is that being a tour guide on my one day off each week means that I don’t actually have any days off. In fact, from mid-April to mid-September (later if the Bolts go to the championship), I have exactly two days that I don’t have to work: May 31 and June 9.

That’s exhausting but I can’t complain because I enjoy my work. The bigger problem is that our travel schedule, while not exactly taxing this year (see yesterday’s post), features an awful lot of day games, specifically road day games. The first of those was today at Lake Erie. Playing a morning game to start a series means we have to travel the day before, which also means I’d have to cancel my Monday tours to take the bus with the team. I wasn’t too fond of that idea, so decided to drive myself to Lake Erie for the first road trip of the year. Another issue: we go straight from Lake Erie to Gateway, a nine-hour journey that I’d rather not have to haul myself on. So, how do I transport myself to the first half of the trip but make it easier to get on the bus for the second trip? Frontier League Deputy Commissioner Matt Shepardson had the solution. He suggested I take the overnight train to Elyria, Ohio and catch up with the team from there. Brilliant.

I hopped on the Amtrak at 9:00 last night for a trip that got me to the Cleveland area by 5:00 this morning. The train ride was uneventful and almost entirely populated by Amish, a single sick woman and the sucker who had to sit right next to her (me, in case you hadn’t figured it out).

It occurred to me when I arrived in Elyria this morning that I hadn’t actually done any research on the part of my journey that would take me from the train station to the ballpark for our 10:35 game. I think I assumed there’d be an all-night coffee shop right outside the train station where I could park myself and get my game prep done before hitching a ride to the stadium.

Why would I have assumed that?

The streets of Elyria were completely empty. And dark. And it was cold out. So, I did what I always do when I don’t have a plan. I just started walking. Eventually I would find something, right? About a mile down the road, I came upon a McDonald’s that had just opened for breakfast. That seemed like as good a place as any to hunker down for a few hours.

I grabbed an Egg McMuffin and a booth and got to work on my game notes, and I apparently wasn’t the only person who had the idea of spending the morning there. A handful of old folks were scattered at other tables, reading the morning paper or just hanging out. It was kind of weird. They all seemed to know each other and I had the feeling that I was in a small town diner from an old TV show. The waitress knew everyone by name (McDonald’s has waitresses???) and she kept checking up on me and refilling my glass of water. All in all, I don’t think I could’ve picked a better spot to spend the morning.

The only place better, it turned out, was the baseball field. The Bolts won their road opener 9-0. And after catching a 15-minute ride to the park, I was there to see it all. Let’s call day one on the road a success.

 

Monday, May 11 (Chicago, IL)

Last season, the ThunderBolts went on the longest road trip in franchise history (maybe league history?). We traversed over 5,000 miles, mostly by bus but occasionally by plane, on a journey that lasted two and a half weeks. It was the craziest trip that I had been a part of and so, felt the need to chronicle it. Afterwards, I got so many compliments on my travelogue (maybe as many as two or three and only one was from myself) that I decided I had to listen to popular demand and bring back the practice for this season.

We don’t have any such crazy road trips this year. In fact, this is one of the most comfortable road schedules I’ve ever experienced in my 12 years of traveling with the Bolts. With that in mind, this blog should be a lot less rambling and scatterbrained than last year’s was (should be).

In looking back at last season, I think I gained a different perspective on the season through chronicling my adventures on the road, so I thought it might be fun to try to give it a go for the full summer this year.

I don’t think I’ll be keen to write about every one of our 51 road games, so this won’t be updated every day, but I’ll do my best to post regular updates, once per series at minimum. Since I’ve already tried my hand at covering the daily ins and outs of a road trip in last year’s travelogue and I’ve narrated an entire season once before (in the extremely popular book, A Wonderful Waste of Time about the 2017 ThunderBolts), I think this year’s writing will be a little more free flowing. Some days I might talk about my favorite lunch spots or tourist destinations on the road, others I might opine about the latest hot button baseball topics and sometimes, I might just use this space as a running log.

That brings me to the real purpose of all this. This fall, I’ll be running in the New York Marathon and, in so doing, I’m trying to raise at least $5,000 for Imerman Angels, an awesome charity that offers personalized one-on-one cancer support for cancer fighters, survivors, previvors and caregivers.

I’ll post periodic reminders, but it would be amazing if you can find it in you to offer any donation at all to this great organization. You can click this link to donate.

This will be my third marathon but I’ve never tried to train for one while also traveling with a baseball team, so that could get interesting. In any case, I’m excited to be on the road with the ThunderBolts for another season, and just like last year, I’m excited to look back on this when it’s all over to figure out just when I lost my mind, if indeed I ever had it. Thanks for coming with!