Sorry it’s been so long between posts. I spent a week attending a sportscasting class on Long Island, where I actually got to spend a significant amount of time calling Mets highlights, play-by-play, and dissecting the team as a color analyst.

After 6 days of intense tutelage and practicing, I have a gained a tremendous amount of appreciation for what Gary Cohen and Hernandez/Darling do, but even moreso what Tom Mccarthy and Howie Rose bring to the airwaves. There is so much more responsibility in calling a radio play by play, as you don’t have the video as your background.

Sportscasting, or play-by-play, at least, is all about preparation. You have to know teams in and out- you have to know statistics, injury updates, and farm reports. You need to have nuggets on all these players, and you need to know all of this like the back of your hand. Sure, you can have notes, but if you look down and miss a pitch- well, it’s kind of hard to explain that on the radio.

It’s also takes an imagination, expression, and an unbelievable command of the English Language. A lot of the technique comes with practice, and you get used to the speed of the action. But you never know what’s going to happen at a baseball game- yet as a the radio play-by-play man, you can never find yourself at a loss for words- it’s your job to put the words in your listener’s head. And man, is it tough.

After a week of intensive sportscasting, fun homerun calls (”John Maine makes that pitch his MAIN course”) , I’ve fallen in love with the profession. I always thought I wanted to be a sportswriter, and part of me still does, but man, is it fun to be a broadcaster. I’m not talking about the fancy suits and personal assistant celebrity broadcasters either- because those jobs are few and hard to come by. In reality, its a long, hard road to the top, and not very glamorous.  If you don’t love the craft and love the lifestyle, then you weren’t cut out for the gig. Now that I found out it’s for me, the long journey begins.

That’s all for now. Sorry about the drawn out tangent, I know we should be talking Mets tonight, but despite the nice road trip, I’m going to gag if I think about Chipper Jones one more time. I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen him make an out at Shea. If the man has another kid (he’s named one Shea after his success in the ballpark), he better name him “Citi.” It’s the only way the man can redeem himself in my book.

I’ll get back to you guys tomorrow, and maybe we’ll talk playoff rotation- or is it too soon?