 | ||
| Meet the Upside-down Man. |
I grew up
without baseball. Until around 2010 I was convinced the sport wasn’t worth my
time. But such is life, as days, weeks and months pass by.
Times
change; people change.
And there I
was, bright and early at Labatt Park, auditioning for a hosting gig with the
London Majors on Rogers TV. I’d never been given the chance to audition before,
although I've heard snide remarks as to why, but let’s not go there.
These adventures are fun.
How much
fun you ask?
Think Jacob Raffaele and the upside-down man (pictured). Think sitting drenched in the home
dug out waiting for a sudden thunderstorm to pass by, enjoying the camaraderie that
the players put on for themselves.
Think
trying to tell people about baseball on live TV while learning the game myself.
I know you can do it; I’m here to prove that I can too.
And again,
I didn't grow up with baseball.
These are
my adventures with the London Majors.
Trust me; I’m
still in shock that Rogers TV would give a guy with next to no knowledge about
a sport, the chance to be part of a broadcast team. It must have been the cricket
knowledge; even Kiwi pitcher Andrew Marck thinks so.
“Did you
watch the Champions Trophy?” Marck and I talked about in June.
“A little,
did you?”
“Yes, bit
gutted that New Zealand lost the other day.”
At least we
understood each other. Picture an American and a Canadian meeting in Singapore,
the hockey talk is bound to flow like running water.
“Kris,
maybe we could throw in a cricket report in there somewhere,” I've said on more
than one occasion.
You hit a
home run, it’s called a six. You’re grounded out at second base, it’s called a run
out. See, it’s all there. Somewhere, anyway!
And then
there’s Cleveland.
Big
Cleveland Brownlee, from Atlanta, Georgia, positioned at first base less than
ten feet from me each broadcast.
“Attaboy
Cleve!” yells scores of fans from the bleachers. “You go Cleve!”
And I’m
thrust in the middle of it all.
“Cleveland
will hit home runs, the fans can be assured of that,” Brownlee smirked early on
in the season.
He did.
Thirteen of them in fact, many of them jaw droppers.
Jaw droppers; like the time I first faced a camera on live TV. It’s no easy task, indirectly looking
at the tens, hundreds perhaps thousands of people who watch you week in and
week out through a camera lens. It sure looks easy, I can tell you that, but
you've got a hundred different thoughts racing through your head.
“What if I
forget the most important line? Suppose I mix up the teams playing? Or maybe
you mispronounce a word, or ten.”
But in the
end all that’s worth it. Trust me.
I've had a
whale of a good time hosting Majors broadcasts this summer. In fact, it’s the
only reason I didn't take off for home. I could have done without the summer job;
I could have done with some time home, running into people I went to high school
with. I could have been enjoying the sunny skies of the Indian subcontinent.
But instead,
I’m in London, Ontario.
As a
broadcaster you’re told to stay professional, in front of celebrities: no
autographs, no photographs. But that doesn't stop us from having fun.
No.
“I go out
to try and get my five strike outs as quickly as possible,” chimes in Jordan Townshend. “Otherwise I’ll have hungry and not angry fans behind my back all
the while.”
There was a
smirk or two when I put that into the broadcast, I’m sure of it. For when there’s
free wings on offer at each game, walking away
wingless seems wrong.
“Do you
like Sachin [Tendulkar]?” this coming from Marck once again.
Yes. Again that’s
something that only the two of us understood at Labatt Park.
Here’s the
thing: when you cover a sports team, you get along with a ton of players. You know the players, and they know you. There's times you ask them how things are
away from the game.
"My man, how you're doing?" goes Brownlee every time as he goes for a high five.
"My man, how you're doing?" goes Brownlee every time as he goes for a high five.
Maybe you
know when a player's getting married, or when they’re going off to dental school.
Maybe you know what
company they work for in addition to playing baseball in the Intercounty Baseball League.
When Rogers brought in the HD mobile for the first time, we were all excited. “Better
beat Toronto tonight, it’ll be in high definition,” the motto from the truck to
the players. So much so, no one had ever seen Labatt Park in HD before, we spent an extra minute showing off the park's beauty on live TV.
But that
brought its own sets of problems, for us anyways. The broadcast crew continued
to do what they did before. The players continued likewise.
What about
the ‘talent’?
“Is my
beard trimmed enough?” we joked.
But in
seriousness, it’s as nerve-racking a job as any. And I love every second of it.
People recognize you, at times, anyway. "You're the Majors host are you not?" I've heard in the bus on occasion. That's what you hope for as a youngster, that people will recognize you. Maybe someday on a much grander scale.
But back on ground level, I’m not
ashamed at walking up to away team coaches and asking them if there’s something
specific they want to talk about. I figure everyone’s got to learn somewhere,
why not at the IBL level.
As the
Majors get set for playoffs in 2013, with a seemingly buoyant attitude that
this is their year, so too are we as the TV crew.
"I think the Brantford Red Sox are getting old," says catcher turned third baseman turned second baseman Derrik Strzalkowski. "They're also getting tired of winning."
Tired maybe, but we certainly aren't.
Tired maybe, but we certainly aren't.
Do I want
to be back for next season? Of course. But that’s a decision for the Rogers TV top brass
to make. I now know what a sac fly is, and what a stand up double is. Surely
that’s got to mean something right?
For now, it's taking one game at a time, and to use a sports cliché, it's the chance to learn something new everyday.
My
adventures with the London Majors, that’s something I’ll always have with me.
Forever.
Playball!
