Friday, while watching TNT/CBS’ three-shots-then-commercials PGA Championship, it hit me: What if Prohibition was repealed, making common sense legal again?
Doesn’t matter that I’ve been writing this column for nearly 35 years, I still sit down to watch any baseball game the way I did when I was 10 — to watch a baseball game.
The only significant change should’ve been that I no longer have to get up to change the channel between the Ballantine Beer Yanks on Ch. 11 and the Rheingold Beer Mets on Ch. 9.
But progress has its downside. Before cell phones, for example, I had never lost mine.
Though I still anticipate sitting down to watch and enjoy ballgames, that simple, pleasant, visceral endeavor has become a chore, a challenge to the central nervous system and whatever’s left in the common sense cupboard.
Thursday’s Yankees-Indians telecast on Ch. 11 was another that examined, explained, excused and exhausted the game before it was exhumed and examined again. It wasn’t a game telecast as much as it was a 3-hour, 35-minute statistics-and-probability seminar.
In the first inning, Brian McCann hit a three-run homer. That inspired play-by-player Ryan Ruocco to recall in detail how the Yanks were leading the majors in three-run homers, but lately had hit only solo shots.
David Cone next explained: “Part of the reason for the solo shots, the last six games, is that there’s not enough runners on base.”
I’d never thought of that.
In the third, the Yanks had runners on first and second when McCann, rather than hit a three-run homer, flew out to right. Next, Chase Headley flew to right. Then newcomer Greg Bird flew out to deep left. That, too, I suspect, was “part of the reason.”
Another part is that solo homers, at least 100 percent of the time, leave no runners on for the next batter. The best he, too, can do is hit a solo homer.
In the fourth, after Stephen Drew doubled to left, Cone was ready: “Just the 17th opposite field hit Drew has had all year.” To that, Ruocco added, “And you brought it up, yesterday, David, how rare it is that Stephen Drew goes the other way.”
Stephen DrewPhoto: Getty Images
Wait a second! That was Drew’s 59th hit of the season. If “only” 17 of them were to the opposite field, that’s 29 percent. So how “rare” is that? That’s not even medium rare.
(By the way, according to baseball-reference.com, it was a bit rare. It was Drew’s sixth opposite field hit, but who’s counting?)
This is hardly a Ruocco/Cone thing, it’s what sports telecasts have “evolved” to become. It’s as if all games are played in a controlled environment, within a lab, within a Petri dish. The players are lab rats, and we’re enrolled to earn our Bachelor of Science, or BS degree.
Soon, college football begins. Its first few weeks will include many play-for-pay home mismatches, powerhouses stomping designated losers by scores of 52-6, 65-7, 51-0. Sacramento State at Washington, McNeese State at LSU, Norfolk State at Rutgers, and so on.
But that won’t matter to TV’s experts. As competitive games begin, those blowout results will be factored, appearing in “game averages” graphics and spoken as hard evidence of powerful offenses and immovable defenses. Why, just look at those stats!
Don’t believe what you see. Don’t believe what you know. Believe what you’re told.
Isn’t there a TV network executive producer or president, anywhere, eager to have his or her network known as the one — the only one — for allowing viewers, first and foremost, to just watch and enjoy the game? Silly question.
Bless you, Lundquist, for knowing what ‘live’ means
When Cowboys tight end Jackie Smith infamously dropped that touchdown pass in the 1979 Super Bowl, Verne Lundquist, calling it on Dallas radio, famously said, “Bless his heart. He’s got to be the sickest man in America!”
Lundquist, when working golf events for CBS and TNT, refuses to play the pretend-it’s-live game. He’s a “To thine own self and viewers be true” type.
So, Thursday when we were suddenly cut to a player not previously seen, Lundquist was quick and sure to say, “This, a moment ago,” before that player was seen hitting a great shot. Lundquist knew that we would know, that he knew that we would know.
So, back at ya, Mr. L. — bless your heart!
Though Stephen A. Smith seems to take himself very seriously on the air, he’s comical.
Last week during his SiriusXM show, Smith performed another of his “I’m here to tell you!” expert acts. This pulpit holler was designed to tell his audience he’s an expert on assessing all things football, hallelujah!
That’s the funny part. Smith once sat in an ESPN studio and to a national audience excoriated an NFL coach for not kicking a late, game-tying field goal on third down, “because if they missed it, they could try again on fourth down.”
Where are they now? Irving Fryar, No. 1 pick in the 1984 NFL draft (Patriots) as a Nebraska receiver, was one of those career “problem” players, including a loaded guns arrest.
He was also one of those who TV’s sideline and pregame show reporters were pleased to report, “has turned his life around” — a “fact” apparently based only on his word. And when Fryar embraced God, well, then he really turned his life around!
Last week, Fryar, Pastor of the New Jerusalem House of God in South Jersey, and his mother were convicted of more than $1 million in mortgage fraud.
Write time for readers
Writers are nothing without readers.
From Raider Dave: “NBA TV is showing Game 6 of the 1995 Knicks-Pacers. The most striking thing? Nobody in the crowd is staring at their cell phone; they’re watching the game.” Well, back then there was no texting while driving to the basket.
Steve Salpeter: “When the home team is batting in a tie game, either in the ninth or in extra innings, the bases loaded and two outs, why is there an on-deck batter?”
I recently credited a very funny on-course riff to CBS’ Gary McCord. As David Murray corrected, the main man actually was Golf Channel’s Jerry Foltz; McCord spoke the kicker.
Even before Gary Cohen and Ron Darling mentioned that Jerry Seinfeld has swapped missives with Yoenis Cespedes, Bob Nielsen asked if Cespedes celebrates Festivus.
Finally, this from Rich in Albany and the 1955 World Series: “Jackie Robison breaks from third! He’s trying to steal home! He’s … safe! Yogi is going crazy! Here comes Casey! He’s going to challenge the call! …” Back for the decision after these words from our sponsors.
