Microphone Musings

On the way home from work yesterday, I had my windows open in the car and the ballgame turned up on the radio. A car pulled up next to me at red light. There was boy of about 5 or 6 in the passenger seat. Without any provocation, he yelled to me "Who's winning?". It seems my radio was loud enough that he was able to recognize Jeff Brantley's voice. I told him "Reds 4-2" and he responded, "Yeah, go Reds!" and pumped a fist in the air. I responded with a thumbs up before the light turned green.

But as I drove on, I felt a little sad for that child. While he recognized that sweet southern drawl of The Cowboy, he was never able to know the home-grown, folksy manner of one of the greatest men to ever grace a microphone, Joe Nuxhall. I was only privileged to enjoy roughly 11 years of The Old Left-Hander's dulcet tones. And that got me to thinking, what have I missed out on? How was Waite Hoyt solo on the mike? Was the dynamic between Joe and Al Michaels better than Joe and Marty? Where does Red Barber rank all time? (he gets extra points for being named Red, right?)

I'm sure I'll never really know. But if they were employed by the oldest and grandest team in baseball, I'm sure they were all of supreme quality. Which was one of my boyhood dreams; to be among them. From an early age I realized that, while I wasn't uncoordinated, I lacked the natural physical prowess to be truly good at any sports. But I loved baseball. I was going to baseball games before I could remember what baseball was. And more than that, I was listening to Reds games. In the truck with my dad. On the front porch with a glass of lemonade on a Saturday afternoon. Begging my mom to let me stay up late to listen to a West Coast Swing...and falling asleep by the third inning. I decided I wanted to do that. I wanted to bring sports to the masses. I wanted to be a radio announcer for the Cincinnati Reds.

I used to turn down the TV sound and try to call the game myself. I didn't have any stats to back me up, mind you, just what I knew from that particular game. I used to talk during my little league games. I even dabbled in some actual announcing in high school. My senior year, I was afforded the opportunity to call the basketball games for our internet broadcasts. I'd like to think we did a pretty good job, even if only about 25 people listened per game. Then, my freshman year of college, I was handed another microphone. This time as an "arena MC", where I entertained a crowd of about 2,500 during time-outs at basketball games. But around that same time, I started working more with the technical side of the broadcasts. I began working on live sports and movies. I became more heavily invested in my camera work and editing skills. As a result, I kind of left the microphone behind.

I realize that had I continued down that path, it would have required a lot of low-level jobs, a lot of paying my dues, a lot of travel, and a very low likelihood of ever rising to the level of an announcer for a major league baseball team. My life would have been vastly different. And I know that all sounds very "crushed by the reality of the world" or however you want to look at it, but I like what I do now. I like how my life has turned out and I think that this is what I'm supposed to be doing.

It was a neat dream to have; to believe I could have been included in the lexicon of great Reds announcers, but I'm just as content to be a fan and enjoy the beauty of the game with every other fan.

Twitter bio of the day: @JimDayTV

Speaking of fellas behind a microphone that I enjoy, how about Jim Day, huh? His pre- and post-game exuberance is a great reason to watch the games on TV. Not to mention his twitter chops. He's always backing the Reds, always pulling great stats, and every once in a while, throwing in some cheeky comments to entertain the masses. If you're a Reds fan, but somehow don't follow Jim Day, it seems an awful waste of your fanhood. The man knows his stuff and he does twitter the right way. So get on over there and follow Jim Day, and in the words of Marty, let him know "how we lookin'?".