August 13, 1982 and I was on the air in Montreal. A little nervous but not as much as one might have expected. The radio station was serious about it’s sports and light years ahead of what would become all-sports radio, although they certainly had no choice but to do it it in small doses since this after all was NOT all sports radio.
CJAD 800 Montreal was news and talk. Still, Bob Dunn had seen the future. There might be another radio station in Canada that can claim to being first at all-sports and they were, as far as 24/7 is concerned. But the former Montreal Star sportswriter who got caught up in that newspaper’s long time strike (that eventually killed it) had brought sports journalism to radio with a number of magazine type shows. Just ahead of the station’s top rated morning show with the great George Balcan was ‘Early Morning Sportspage’, a half hour of interviews and commentary from events of the night before. From 5:30-6 AM, the sports department’s young staff was expected to fill that half hour for the host, Mr. Dunn. There was also a two man show with a full hour to fill with interviews starting at 6 PM. It was called ‘Sports Digest’. And another hour from 11 A.M. until noon on Sundays called ‘Sunday Morning Sportspage’. Phone calls from listeners were not to be taken unless something major had happened. You want to learn how to conduct an interview, try filling that much time on a daily bases six days a week.
What a staff it turned out to be. Twenty five year old Chris Cuthbert was doing CFL
football play by play along with the Montreal Manic of the North American Soccer
League. He turned into one of Canada’s best television sportscasters. Twenty three year old Mitch Melnick would become arguably Canada’s best radio sports interviewer while hosting what has to be the most unique combination of sports, music and entertainment show in North America. And of course there was little old me along with the maestro Bob Dunn.
There was tape to gather and interviews to do. Do you think I was excited about heading to Olympic stadium to cover the Expos ? I had missed the three best years in the history of the franchise. I had suffered through every game in the bad early years but hadn’t been to any of
the games that really mattered. Things were about to change, and quickly. Wasn’t the timing of all of this unbelievable?
Because of an earlier rain out, the Expos were about to play five games in four days
beginning with a doubleheader against one of the teams they would battle for the
National League East, the Philadelphia Phillies. Most folks have forgotten what a fine franchise this was and I wonder how many could come within fifty thousand of the attendance for that series. It drew more than 211,000, the best four days in Expos history. Or maybe they were
just there to welcome me home.
The crowds Thursday through Sunday were 55,097, 48,237, 50,572 and 59,094. That weekend got me noticed in a hurry though it seemed pretty innocent at the time. Five games in four days means you are going to need some serious innings out of your pitchers, especially the starters. Rookie right hander Bryn Smith was not pitching particularly well when his turn at bat came up in the fifth inning with the Expos trailing but when the Phillies came to bat, Smith had been replaced on the mound. Even though he had batted in the bottom of the 5th. After the game Smith was asked why and he said he had no idea. Manager Jim Fanning’s reply to the same question was quite different. Fanning said that Smith had told him that he was tired and couldn’t go any further. The tape was gathered and presented the next morning on ‘Sunday Morning Sportspage’ and off to the Big O we went for the final day of this epic battle only to be summoned into the manager’s office. How the hell did Fanning know who I was after just three days on the job? Well, he did and he was pissed at me.
It was explained that all we did was run both his comments and those of his pitcher
without choosing sides. We never said who was right and who was wrong.
If fans wanted to make up their own minds on the subject, there was nothing we
could do. Gentleman Jim’s response was heated.
“Your dad has been on my ass for a long time and if this is way you’re going to treat
me than you can tell the people at that radio station of yours that I’ll no longer be
talking to anybody over there!”, and I was dismissed from his office. Oh, to have had a tape machine running on that! It would not be my last surprising run-in with professional sports folks, mostly baseball.
Here are some of my favourites:
The Phillies had been having trouble with outfielder Wes Chamberlain and it seemed clear that manager Jim Fregosi was not a fan. Still, sometimes you have to play someone so they can build some numbers to have any value if you hope to trade them. So it was on a Sunday afternoon that Chamberlain was playing right field against the Expos in a scoreless tie.
Late in the game, with 2 outs and a runner in scoring position, Chamberlain took a
long semi-circle route to a fly ball. It dropped in for hit and as a result the Phils lost 1-0.
We had our tape to get so I headed to the Phillies clubhouse and asked Fregosi if he thought that the game went down on a catchable ball.
“Do you think you could have caught it?” Mr. Fregosi came back, putting me on the spot in an office full of reporters. I thought about it and told him that yes I thought I would have caught it and I still believe that. Half the people in the stadium that day would have caught it.
“Well maybe you should be in the fucking major leagues instead of carrying that
fucking microphone around” replied Jim.
This was caught on tape and ran with the necessary parts beeped out.The phone lines lit up.
Quickly one caller put it to host Mitch Melnick:
“So would he have caught it ?”
Melnick thought for a moment before shooting back:
“Good glove, no bat”, replied Melnick, “Yeah Elliott would have had it.”
I have, over the years, become a big fan of Jim Fregosi and we’ve had many a conversation though that subject never came up again. Jim’s old school and it’s getting tougher for those guys to get back in, I hope he does. (2019 edit – Mr. Fregosi has since passed away) A real gem and the kind of character that made covering baseball so much fun. Respected by all.
Sometimes players just like to show off in front of their teammates and get a kick
out of dressing down a timid media member. But sometimes they just pick on the wrong guy.
The San Francisco Giants had just put a thumping on the Expos and reserve infielder Steve Scarsone had put together a career game with four or five hits, a home run and pocketful of runs batted in. As we entered the Giant clubhouse I turned to another reporter and whispered,
“Which one of these guys is Steve Scarsone?”
From out of nowhere came the semi-high pitched tone of star first basemen Will
Clark.
“WHAT?” He bellowed, “You don’t know who Willie McGee is? The guy’s a two time batting champion, a god damned real life world series hero, and you call yourself a baseball reporter?”
I can be loud and one thing I CAN do is come back quickly. Clark may have hit for a living but I talked for one. After the loud verbal ping pong that ensued, I had finally managed to put the suddenly embarrassed Mr. Clark in his place. I wondered if a week previous to that if Clark himself could have picked Scarsone out of a police lineup. Never previously, I thought, had a giant managed to make himself look so small.
Jeff Juden did not enjoy a stellar career, but there was a half season in Montreal
where the huge right hander looked for all the world like a budding star.
He had just come off the game of his life, out dueling Roger Clemens in Toronto, edging his hero 1-0 in front of a monstrous Canada Day crowd at the Skydome. He followed that with another sterling performance next time out at Olympic Stadium. The media horde gathered around his locker for his pearls of wisdom and the pitcher, with cameras and microphones directed at him, stepped back and refused to begin the process, pointing at three reporters.
“I’m not going to talk unless you, you and you leave.”
He had pointed at another radio guy, a French newspaper beat writer and me.
I couldn’t begin to guess what the problem was and I told him so, but he wouldn’t continue so I stepped away. When the interviews were done I confronted the six foot eight inch pitcher face to stomach.
“I want to know what your problem is,” I asked.
“Some of you guys make my job more difficult than it should be.” said Juden
I tried to explain that at this point he was making my job more difficult than I had ever made his but I was getting nowhere, and it was never explained just what my transgression had been. Several days later the hulk walked by in the clubhouse, smiled and bizarrely handed
me some flowers. It was too late, as if cursed, Juden never won another game for the Expos,
soon shipped to Cleveland for left-hand reliever Steve Kline to continue a descent
through baseball that didn’t stop until he was out of the game.
Sometimes however it’s in our best interests to say nothing at all.
Before Juden ended up in the rotation he had come to spring training hoping for a
roster spot, it looked like some sort of bullpen position. Manager Felipe Alou thought differently. Juden was given an opportunity to start a pre-season game. The opposition ran wild on him, wracking up the stolen bases. Post-game I asked Felipe if that would be a concern. Well did he jump down my throat.
“We are better at holding runners than any team in the league! Next question.”
Manager Alou was trying to make sure a reporter would not be a problem later on.
Better make sure this guy won’t be a season long second guesser. Every reporter’s question that followed, Felipe looked at me and said loudly “Now that’s a concern.”
As someone who wanted to make sure I stayed in a good place with the
organization, to make sure my play-by-play position was secure, I let it go. That would have been some battle though. Felipe Alou is one smart, tough, calculating hombre.
The Expos charter airplane was always set up in the same manner and the traveling party always just sort of fell into the same alignment. Manager and front office in first class as well as some of the coaches. The front of the next cabin was always populated by the rest of the coaches, media relations staff and broadcasters. A few empty rows was followed by the quiet players who preferred to either read or watch movies. And finally, came the card players and noisier sort in the back. As a broadcaster I was in the middle and for the longest time never
comfortable bothering either group to pass them on my way to the washroom but
let’s face it, as they say, when you gotta go, you gotta go. This time the coaches were in a heated discussion up front and I thought it best to head in the other direction. Three quarters of the way to the back of the plane I was stopped by reliever Mike Dyer.
“Where are YOU going ?” asked Dyer “That’s the PLAYERS bathroom!”
I snapped “Why don’t you grow up, it’s just a bloody bathroom for crying out loud!”
“Yeah!” shouted outfielder Rondell White, “You tell him.” Rondell then proceeded with a big high five and off I went hurriedly to complete my business. I always wished I had said, “Who the hell are you, Mike Dyer for crying out loud? Next year at this time I’ll be back on this plane heading to a major league city and where the hell will you be?”
I didn’t of course and I’m not too sure where he was at that time the following year. I do know he wasn’t with the Expos. He did however pitch in 155 more big league games than I did.
But seriously, which one of us looked better on the mound?
The 1982 baseball season creaked along to another Expos disappointment. This time
it would be the St Louis Cardinals that would outdistance them. By then, however, the shock was less stunning, nothing so dramatic as a death over the last weekend of the season. It was clear that management, in the form of General Manager John McHale had panicked. The Expos had for some time been looking for that one ingredient that would push them over the top – a left handed bat to break up all the right handed power of Gary Carter, Andre Dawson, Tony Perez and Larry Parrish. Instead the big move started them in the other direction. Parrish had been the heart and soul of this group with Perez a close second. Neither had been retained. Perez walked as a free agent after 1979 while two years later, Parrish was traded to Texas for Al Oliver.
Tim Wallach stepped nicely into Parrish’s fielding position at third base and Oliver had a
monster offensive season at first base, leading the league in both batting average
and runs batted in. But the team lacked a certain something. Parrish had taken it to Texas and Perez to Boston. The Cardinals, meanwhile beat Milwaukee to win the World Series.
It was believed at the time that teams with championship potential generally had a five year cycle in which to win as many titles as possible. The Expos had just completed year four.
No team had won more games over that span and yet not only was there no National League championship won nor a World Series appearance, but for this group time was running out.
To be continued
