Yesterday, the immortal Vin Scully announced he will most likely retire after next season. Tonight, ESPN had Jessica Mendoza fill-in for the suspended Curt Schilling. It’s fitting they were both working the same game. It was Vin Scully’s 20th no-hitter and Hesdica Mendoza’s first. 

It’s funny for a blog, but there is really nothing new or interesting I can add here about Vin Scully, except for maybe this: He started his career when the sport of baseball was all white males; he was there for the integration of baseball with Jackie Robinson, and now he’s seen a woman of Hispanic descent serve as a color commentator. 

That’s remarkable. It’s like how my Nana was born into a world with no televisions and the beginning of the dawn of automobiles. In her lifetime, she’d watch a man land in the moon. That’s revolutionary. What happened tonight is nothing short of that. 

Think about it. Before tonight no major sport has had a female in the booth. Also, I believe the top teams for all pro sports are white males.  I’m still not sure if it’s good or bad that no one has focused on Jessica Mendoza’s heritage. 

Personally, I’ve loved her smart, insightful work on Baseball Tonight. I don’t think choosing her to join the booth tonight was a PR move. I think ESPN just chose an amazing analyst, much like Greg Poppvich chose a good assistant coach. The question is how did she do?

I think k she started tentatively. It’s only natural. It’s a three man booth with Buster Olney chiming in whenever he has a thought. It’s a hard place for anyone to find their footing. However, she did find her footing. She was insightful and funny. She didn’t over talk, nor did you forget that she was there. She took on a real challenge and succeeded. 

Much like most of my life, I didn’t hear Vin Scully. I’m sure he was amazing. He always is. When I was growing up you rarely, if ever had an opportunity to hear him call games. When I was growing up, it was Jack Buck and Bob Costas who did play-by-play. Not too shabby. However, the real voice of baseball has always been Vin Scully, and to a certain extent I missed out. 

That was until I was at Shea Stadium during a long rain delay. I remember DiamondVision turning on the Dodgers game with Vin Scully welcoming the Mets fans who were watching from Shea. He was terrific. I could’ve sat and listened to him call the Dodger game. Alas, the game was officially rained out, the Dodger game was off, and it was time to head home. 

When XM Radio came out, I got the chance to hear Vin Scully again.  During this late nights I couldn’t sleep or I was working, I’d turn on the Dodger games just to hear him. It was a pleasure. 

Unfortunately, it’s a pleasure my son won’t know. He’s heard Vin Scully; I’ve made sure of that. However, he can’t try appreciate it, and he’ll probably never remember it. It’s sad in s way. My grandfather, father, and I, all of the same name, have heard and enjoyed Vin Scully. The Fourth won’t. 

However, there’s no Jessica Mendoza. We do t know where her broadcasting career will take her, but we do know it’s off to a promising start. I did make sure he watched tonight. He won’t remember it, but he will learn why it was significant. Who knows, maybe by the time he’s old enough, it will no longer be noteworthy. Maybe next time we’re talking about a questionable error made by an official scorer and the subsequent no-hitter. 

Overall, I just want him to have good announcers to help him learn about and enjoy baseball. Jessica Mendoza qualifies as that. 

i was looking over my blog the other day. I think it’s a good idea for anyone who writes to do that. You learn what you like, what you don’t like, and any crutches or patterns you have. If you’re being honest, whenever you read something you wrote, you want to edit and/or rewrite everything. 

On thing I’ve noticed is this blog has been a little more Mets-centric than I anticipated. I suppose it’s only natural. Baseball is pretty much a daily sport, and it takes a lot of time and energy – blog or no blog.  With that said, when re-reading my blog, I really wish there were some more pieces on my son. 

I want this blog to be a snapshot in time. I want to go back and be able to see my thoughts at a particular time. I want my son to see it as well. What I lament most thus far is I haven’t really spoken about how proud and amazed I am. Each and every day, he does something that amazes me. 

I guess it’s easy to be complacent with my amazement of him.  He’s advanced. In daycare, he was promoted to the toddler room ahead of older children. He’s the only one in his class that knows all of his colors, all of the animal sounds, can speak in sentences, and can count to three. The teachers and other kids love him.  

Also, he’s adorable. That’s mostly because he looks like his mother, but with my eye color . . . hey there was a reason a mook(ie) like me could actually marry a beautiful woman. Not a day goes by that I’m not stopped by someone telling me how cute he is. That’s not hyperbole. I really get stopped at least once a day. At today’s Mets game, it happened several times. 

I assume most people, other than my wife and other family members have stopped reading by now. That’s fine. This piece is reall for my son when he’s much older. If you’re reading this buddy, I am so proud of you and love you very much. I may not say it enough, but that’s because if I said it as often as it needed to be said, I wouldn’t be able tosay anything else. 

Anyway, back to talking about the Mets and how much fun it is raising a Mets fan.  Before I get back, I’m proud of you, and I love you buddy. 

Hearing about the recent Little League scandal, I went back to my days in Little League. I made me question when did this win at all costs approach start?  

The sad, ugly truth is that it’s always been there. We ignore that until we get to this point. I remember what happened my second year of Little League. I was on a team that was almost half boys-half girls. This was in the days before softball. If you remember those days, the girls on your team were mostly an automatic out. There were some good female players, but for the most part, they weren’t very good. 

Well, we surprisingly made it to the playoffs. Shockingly, we made it to the 3rd place game. The coaches wanted to win. They wanted the players to get that trophy (this was in the days before the participation trophy). Then something truly awful happened. The coaches didn’t tell the worst players, including the girls, about the time and location of the 3rd place game. 

We won resoundingly. However, what sticks with me most was not the victory, but how upset my teammates were at missing out on the game. Some skipped the year end awards celebration. Others cried when they were given their trophies. At what cost did we get those trophies?  

It should be said out coach was a good man. He was a very involved dad. He was a Little a League coach, a scout master, and a volunteer fireman.  All season he never got down on anyone for making a mistake. He gave everyone time each game to play their favorite IF position. He allowed the less talented players to have some time batting at the top of the lineup. He made the best players play the OF. All of this doesn’t change the fact that he made a mistake. A bad mistake. However, I refuse to let that mistake define him.  

I’m not going to pass judgment on one Little League coach for one ugly moment. I don’t know him as a person. I suspect he thought he was helping his team. I know good men and good coaches can make mistakes. It doesn’t change his egregious error in judgment. 

This is why when my son is old enough I want to coach his baseball team. First and foremost, I’ll coach them to win the right way. You win by always playing hard and always wanting to beat the best. You win by giving everyone on your team a chance to succeed. If you do your best, everyone hustles and plays the right way, and everyone improves, you’re a winner.

You’re a winner even if you lose the game. However, if they lose, I don’t think the players should deserve a trophy just for showing up. 

My son loves Sesame Street. He knows all the characters by name. I justify it to myself because he’s learning his letters and he is able to count to three. I’m learning that he’s everywhere. 

My YouTube account is full of Sesame Street clips along with my subscription to the Sesame Street channel. My Netflix only suggests Sesame Street episodes now. It’s Sesame Street everything. 

I had one respite away from Sesame Street . . . Mets games. Not anymore. As my son is dozing off watching the Mets game with me, the inning ends, and it cuts to commercial. Sure enough, it’s a Sesame Place commercial. The sleepy little boy (my wife says he’s still a baby), jumps up and screams “ELMO!  COOKIE! GROVER!”  Yup, he’s not falling asleep. 

I never thought I would ask for more Cialis and beer ads during games. Speaking of which, why is it beer ads are the only ones you can’t skip on YouTube?  And by the way, kudos for them and YouTube for playing before Sesame Street clips. 

Anyway, I digress. For you parents out there, you’re not escaping Elmo, especially now that Elmo is moving to HBO. Why Sesame Street and not Fraggle Rock, the first ever series on HBO, I’ll never know. Maybe it’s because Elmo is getting edgier (0:37 mark):

All kidding aside, I wish the Mets could incorporate Elmo and Sesame Street to a team promotion. I’m sure my son and every kid out there would love a Mets Elmo hat or t-shirt or bobblehead. Let’s make it happen. 

Today is National Lefthanders’ Day. The day made me think of my son and his baseball future. 

If you’re a baseball fan, and you have a son, you want him to be left-handed because seemingly there are more chances for left handed pitchers. Left handed pitchers throw the ball with more spin. They seem to have longer careers. Mets fans need look no further than John Franco and Jesse Orosco. 

Plus left-handed batters are described as having beautiful swings. There is Tony Gwynn, Ken Griffey, Jr., and Ted Williams. For Mets fans, we think of Darryl Strawberry and John Olreud. Oh yeah, the greatest baseball player of all time was left handed. 

Now, I know children will not truly have a hand preference until they are about four. Right now, there are some things he does right handed and some things he does left handed. However, it doesn’t stop me from dreaming or playing baseball with my son. When we play baseball, I have him switch hit. 

I may want him to throw the ball left-handed, and I may occasionally put it in his left hand, but he really throws with both hands. I joke with my wife that ultimately it doesn’t matter because he’ll throw lefty when he’s older. You may not know this, but Billy Wagner is naturally right-handed. He began playing lefty when he broke his right arm. It reminds me of when I broke my right thumb playing baseball around the same age. 

I went to a yard sale and got a left handed glove large enough to fit over my splint.  I would practice throwing lefty and catching with my new mitt until I got caught.  I would sneak out of the house and ride my bike to my Little League games (my splint hidden in my bat bag). My mom would arrive in just enough time for my name to be scratched from the lineup.  I never got the opportunity to be like Billy Wagner. Something tells me my wife won’t let that happen either. 

Anyway, that is how much I loved baseball (and still do). You couldn’t keep me off the field without a fight. I already see glimpses of that with my son.  He loves baseball. He was watching the game last night telling me when the players hit the ball. He knows a double and a homerun.

I’m glad he loves the sport. Lefty or not, I’ll be there playing with him, and hopefully, one day I’ll be there when he suits up for his first game in the majors. If he doesn’t, I’ll still love him and be proud of him . . . it’ll just mean I’ll have to buy my own tickets.