One of the strangest things about sportswriting, especially in New York, especially for baseball, especially on Opening Day, is the scene during locker room access periods in which relatively few players are around, relatively many journalists are around, and said journalists end up chatting primarily with each other.
That was the case before the Yankees' misted-out opener Monday. But I was in a better position to justify my presence than most, as my job usually is interviewing fellow media people.
One of the best things about my 2 1/2 years on this beat is that I rarely am in locker rooms anymore. It doesn't take long for the novelty to wear off, believe me.
The Giants' locker room after the Super Bowl was an exception. That was fun. Even though I awkwardly walked about the room carrying a souvenir SBXLII seat cushion, which I ended up leaving in the hotel the next morning because carrying it on the plane would have been annoying.
In my item in Tuesday's paper on Paul O'Neill limiting himself to 25 games per season on YES, I forgot to mention an amusing moment:
I was walking with O'Neill toward the Blue Jays' locker room when a security guard stopped him and demanded to see a credential. O'Neill didn't have one, but politely pointed out he is, well . . . Paul O'Neill!
The guard wasn't buying it. I was about to chime in (and risk arrest) when another guard came over and said O'Neill was OK to go through.
I told O'Neill that maybe if he called more than 25 games a year, the staff would know who he is.
Comments (3)
25 games....thats a joke. of course kay only does like 120 games. your dream job is to be the yankees broadcaster and you cant even do a full season?
How 'bout this?
First, he goes out to right field and practices his swing when he should be getting in fielding position.
The Guard: "Nope, still not buying it."
Next, he gets called out looking, yells at an imaginary home plate umpire and proceeds to the dugout where he trashes the water cooler."
The Guard: "You're gonna have to do better than that."
Flummoxed, he sits down and pulls out an autographed copy of "Mostly True: A Memoir of Family, Food and Baseball."
The Guard: "Hey, you didn't tell me you were Molly O'Neill's baseball-playing kid brother......"
Michael Kay doesn't call the games anymore. He treats the Yankees Television booth like his show Centerstage with his revolving door of television partners like a revolving door of guests on his show.
Also can we have a little Bill White in the YES rotation once?