Chester said it best; It ain’t easy being cheesy. Such is true of life in the Press Box. It isn’t all silk ties and limousines like the talking pictures make it out to be. It’s a grind. It is like working for a judge. A judge who at the end of the night slams his gavel down and decides who among us are men and who are boys. I sit behind the microphone every night awaiting my judgment. I sit with little concern for anything else. I sit and I wait. And these are my memoirs.
Chapter 2: “Red, Blue, Black & Mild”
I have met my fair share of interesting people in my time sitting behind the microphone at Volcanoes Stadium; from fire chiefs and sheriffs, to mascots and world famous athletes. It has been one hell of a ride. These are memoirs from three such encounters.
Blue
One of the most interesting and charismatic people I have ever met was Vida Blue. I even had the privilege of announcing him as a Volcanoes pitcher during the 4th Annual Volcanoes Winter Sports Banquet at the Keizer Civic Center. “Now pitching for your Volcanoes, the left-hander, number 14, Vida Blue!”
For those of you who don’t know him, Blue is Cy Young Award winning pitcher. He pitched for three clubs, including two separate stints with the Giants, between 1969 and 1986. He was a six-time All-Star and three-time World Series Champion. On top of all of that, he is just a great guy.
Whether he was speaking to our fans, our staff, or even Crater, he seemed like the type of person who never forgot his roots. You could hear the humility and thankfulness in his voice when he told stories. When he spoke, the room quieted down to listen to what he had to say.
Red
Sometimes you meet people you wish you didn’t. Here is the situation; it is Crater’s birthday, and all of his mascot friends are at the stadium. Normally this would be a fun game, but this one time, for whatever reason, it was different. Walking around the concourse is Clifford, the Big Red Dog. For reasons unbeknownst to me, Clifford was amassing quite a gathering of followers. Normally this would be a good thing, except Clifford seemed to be amassing right in front of my view of the field.
Now, my little readers, there really is no need for me to see the field. I just make a big deal about it because when people stand in front of me I can’t watch the game. And when I can’t watch the game I get bored. And when I get bored the Press Box Mafia starts having (heated) debates about whether or not cheese should be included in the price of a salted pretzel. (For the answer, you will have to wait until Chapter 4: “What kind of relish do you have?”)
After about 5 minutes of standing in front of me, I finally broke down and told him to move. I’m not a child. I know that underneath that little red fur costume there is a grown ass adult who is fully capable of understanding what I’m saying. Walking right next to Clifford is his handler. The handler looks at me, turns to Clifford and barks what I am assuming was my message. The two walk away, and I though the situation was over.
I was incorrect.
Not fifteen minutes later, Clifford and his posse return to my Press Box. Unbeknownst to Clifford but knownst to everyone around me, I was about to have a real misunderstanding with this guy. I stand up, stick my head out of the Press Box and restate the fact that he cannot stand there. Once again, the handler looks at Clifford, barks my message and the two depart.
Literally (yes, literally) three minutes later, Clifford and the Dog Whisper return to the concourse behind home plate. This time it was personal. I once again stuck my head out of the Press Box window and politely (by my terms) asked that he relocate his shenanigans before he became Clifford the Big Blue Dog.
Needless to say, Clifford and I haven’t spoken in some time, but he still makes his appearance at Crater’s birthday party every year.
Black and Mild
Last, but most certainly not least, is my hero Don Larsen. Oh, where to start with Don-o. Well, let’s start out by explaining why he is my hero. Donny is the only person to pitch a perfect game in the World Series. In other words, this guy did one amazing thing, and has reaped the benefits of it ever since.
If you take a look at his statistics over the course of his career, he really wasn’t all that impressive. What has been impressive is that, to this day, he is able to make a living off of that one game. From appearances to autograph signings, people still flock to see him.
Brilliant. Just brilliant. Much like the man who invented the pet rock, Don Larson is a genius. To make a living out of doing something great over 50 years is truly incredible.
Mr. Larson is kind enough to make an appearance at Volcanoes Stadium every year – or at least the last 7 years I’ve been here. I’ve only had the opportunity to announce his arrival three times, and all have been magical.
The moment each year that I look forward to the most is when I do my read about no smoking in the ballpark. Why do I enjoy this so? Because when Don Larsen is here, there is usually a large puff of smoke coming from his Black & Mild wood-tipped cigar. Like magic, this puff of smoke floats down to the Press Box at the exact moment of my read; this makes the sarcasm of the read more enjoyable for all.
Don and Clifford will return this year, and another chapter will be added to these memoirs. What will that chapter say? Only the baseball gods know.
These are my memoirs from the mic.