The Real McCoy

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Hall of Fame baseball writer Hal McCoy is in his 36th year of covering the Cincinnati Reds, the longest tenure for any active writer covering one team. Counting spring training and postseason games, McCoy has covered more than 7,000 major-league baseball games, written close to 18,000 baseball stories and eaten enough hot dogs to give Babe Ruth indigestion.

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June 2008

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Home > Blogs > The Real McCoy | Cincinnati Reds baseball news > Archives > 2008 > May > 08 > Entry

The sidewalks of New York

By Hal McCoy | Thursday, May 8, 2008, 09:51 AM

Memo to Bob Castellini: How much will you pay me to take the rest of the season off (I accept MasterCard and Visa, but not bananas, oranges or lettuce)?

Why do I ask? Because it must be me. I took Wednesday off from covering the Cincinnati Reds and they hit seven home runs (I hadn’t seen them hit seven home runs this year in any week) and beat the Cubbies, 9-0.

But, wait. That’s not all.

On my day off, I went to see my grandson, Eric, play for Centerville High School, standing most of the day under a large yellow umbrella as it rained, sometimes very hard. But kids being kids — you can’t get them out of the rain or snow, unless you want them to shovel it — they played on.

Centerville needed only to beat Wayne to win its division championship. Well, going into the last inning, C-ville was down, 5-3, and it was pouring. My son, Brian, asked me, “Do you want to go?” Oh, dumb me. I said yes.

The game was on an FM radio station, and fearing the worst we didn’t turn it on until halfway home. That’s when Brian snapped on the radio and we heard “… .And there’s another Centerville hit, their sixth straight, and another run.” Without my presence, the Elks scored six runs in the last inning and beat Wayne, 9-5.

So, I’m taking this black cloud dangling over my head and boarding an airplane for New York City, where the Reds play a three-game series — lugging a five-game road losing streak with them.

For me, it is returning to the scene of an accident. My own. Last July while we were in New York, I was walking on Times Square, a vente non-fat latte in one hand, a freshly purchased bag of cigars in the other. With my limited eyesight, I usually walk with my head down, watching every step.

One cannot do that on Times Square or you would be bouncing off person-to-person-to-person and you’d hear words you never heard before. So I was watching the hordes when a protruding step tripped me up. Down I went and man was I proud. Spilled nary a drop of latte nor bent nor broke a single cigar because I went down on my knees, my arms up in the air to prevent spillage and breakage.

A couple of citizens even rushed to my aid. And even though my hands were full, they didn’t lift my wallet. The problem, though, was my left knee. I tore the meniscus and it required surgery by Reds team physician Dr. Tim Kremchek.

Anyway, that was me scoring my “big hit” on Broadway.

For the Reds, on Friday it is Matt Belisle (1-2, 6.91) against right-hander Mike Pelfrey (2-2, 5.27). Being at home, the Mets probably have the slight edge in this one.

Saturday might be a hold-your-ears game — it is Bronson Arroyo (1-4, 8.63) against Johan Santana. While he is only 3-2 his ERA is 2.91, most of the Reds never have seen him. Of course, he’s never seen, either.

I’ve never been able to figure out the advantage when a pitcher and batter never have faced each other. Who has the advantage? My guess, though, is the pitcher — mainly because in my days I could never hit any pitcher.

Sunday is another wash — anybody can win, although if Mario Soto has Johnny Cueto back on track, as it seemed during his last start, the Reds could win this one. They face Oliver Perez (2-3, 4.63). When he was with Pittsburgh, every time he faced the Reds he struck out 10 or more and they couldn’t hit him if he threw water balloons at them.

But that was the Perez of old, and he no longer is the Perez of old. Just old.

So if I can wander from my Times Square hotel to the subway station without a pratfall, and survive the 45-minute subway ride to the Stinkhole that is Shea, we’ll see if the 9-0 seven-homer game was a fluke or the start of something big.

Speaking of getting to Shea, did anybody ever tell you the Sparky Anderson New York subway story? Players kept telling him how easy it was to get to the stadium on the subway. So he decided to try it and asked the hotel concierge, “How do I get to the stadium on the subway?”

The concierge gave him directions as to what train to take and where to get off. Anderson followed directions. When he arrived at his stop and detrained (that’s like deplaning, instead of just getting off the plane), he looked up to see:

YANKEE STADIUM!!!!

He had to hop an expensive cab to get from Yankee Stadium to Shea Stadium. You see, “The Stadium” in New York is Yankee. If you want to go to the other park, it is, “Shea.”

Anyway, I await Mr. Castellini’s reply.

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