Who Is Rob Brooks and Why He Must Be Fired NOW! (Part 2)

I was watching the Phillies-Rockies game tonight (May 28th) when I heard those seven awful words that curdle the stomach:  “Gary Matthews will join us in the third.”

Those seven hideous words made me think of what I’d do as a third base coach signaling Matthews’ turn behind the microphone. I’d take my hands, cover both ears and make a spastic gagging motion, while simultaneously falling face down on the third base bag.  Then I’d roll over and pantomime stabbing myself repeatedly in the chest.  Oh Lordy, three more innings of excruciating Matthews pain coming up. 

Hmmmn.  Let me do the math.  162 games times 3 innings per game at an average time of one hour per three innings = 486 hours of inanity, banality, and the rank idiocy of Matthews’ mutterings over the course of an entire TV broadcast season.  That, Dear Readers, computes to 20 ¼ hours of drivel foisted upon our minds by the raging tinkerer and would-be re-inventor of television baseball broadcasting: Mr. Rob Brooks, Phillies director of broadcasting …. and atrocities against Phillies fans.

As Matthews’ three innings were about to begin, I turned off the TV and busied myself, waiting out the “Sarge” for the next hour or so.  During that time, I wrote this account of a singular, dizzying happening that transpired earlier that day.

My phone rang around noon, the voice identified itself, and for a second my mind went blank.  It was so unexpected and so odd.  You know how it is when you’re stuck inside a fraction of a moment and that moment seems to stretch on into eternity.

The voice asked, “Is this J.J.?” I said, “It is.”  And then the voice announced it was “Rob Brooks calling.”

Whoa!  The man whose job I said should be taken from him – as I wrote in my recent blog posting  (Who is Rob Brooks and Why He Must Be FIRED NOW!)- was calling me.  What was I in for?  I was caught off balance, and immediately went into a psychic crouch, certain I was about to be verbally pummeled.

Well, I was wrong.  Brooks was very much the gentleman throughout the conversation, never raised his voice, and treated me with respect. Then again, he never once questioned his decisions or in any way intimated that maybe, just maybe, I had a point or two. He was completely defensive.

I’d written scathing attacks on how awful the Phils telecasts were/are. I’d gone off on the insipid and incoherent mutterings of Matthews, a Brooks hire, and surely the worst baseball analyst (an oxymoron if there ever was one) in the history of our city, our country, and, probably, the entire planet. 

I’d also written quite harshly about the “cutaways” to Tom McCarthy’s (another Brooks hire) vapid reports during game action, and how those reports intruded on the flow and announcing of the game.  I’d cited, most infamously, a McCarthy interview that not only was vanilla-bland and of no reportorial value, (a silly and empty exchange with Padres broadcaster, Jerry Coleman), but obstructed the call of a game-wining 8th inning home run by Ryan Howard.  (Can you imagine how Harry Kalas would have called it? Can you imagine Harry’s voice rising in excitement as Howard crushed the ball and it went deep into the right field stands? Can you say OUTTA HERE!!!!) But what did we get instead?  McCarthy interrupting his vacuous interview by saying, weakly, something like, “Oh. Ryan Howard hit a home run.”  Well, zowie Rob.  Thanks for “robbing” us of the very reason Phils fans endure Matthews and McCarthy at all.

So we talked about it.  I told Brooks that there was evidence that HE also thought hiring Matthews was a mistake.  My argument was that last year, Matthews’ first, Brooks assigned him to report throughout entire games, whereas this year, he reduced Matthews’ role to three innings. I further said Matthews had not noticeably improved and that he never would.  I went on to say that color analysts either have it or they don’t.  I cited the maiden voyages of the exceptional first-time-in-the-booth work by the likes of Tim McCarver, Doug Collins, Steve Kerr, and Jeff Van Gundy.  These dudes were good from the get.

Brooks countered by alluding to some shenanigans in the three-man booth he created last year.  His implication was that the reason things went so poorly had nothing, or little to do with Matthews.  His inference was that the problem resided with either Harry or Chris Wheeler, or both. Otherwise, Brooks suggested, three-in-the-booth would have worked.

Brooks went on to say that Ron Darling (or “Ronda,” as he called him) was not very good his first year, but had improved so much that now he could do national broadcasts.  Oh well, I suppose that an exception makes the rule.  And besides, that opinion is clearly debatable.

But what finally reveals Brooks to be insubstantial to the task of hiring Phils’ broadcasters, and supervising their workload, was his declaration that Merrill Reese was a poor announcer.  I swear he said that.  Talk about blasphemy. I mean, really, are there any announcers Philly fans cherish more than the wondrous Harry and the incredibly gifted Merrill Reese?  If I needed any further proof that Brooks was incompetent, that was it. 

And so I thank Rob Brooks for the courtesy of his call. I do. In the spirit of cooperation and fellowship, I urge him to consult Craigslist to see what other jobs might be available to him.  For Brooks’ decisions – from Scott Graham to Gary Matthews to Tom McCarthy’s in-game intrusions, to the disjointed pairings of announcers throughout each game – warrant his removal from office.  It’s time for a change. Yes, it is.

Tom McCarthy – Latest Phillies Disaster (Updated)

As all Phillies fans know, Tom McCarthy is the new voice in town. The best I can say for him is that he takes time away from Gary Matthews. That’s worth something.

But, with a quarter of the season gone, there’s been enough evidence to offer a fair evaluation of his work.  In a word, it’s detestable.  In another word, it’s self-serving. McCarthy is just another horror foisted upon faithful fans by the cult of Rob Brooks, the Phils demented director of boobery and broadcasting.

Most grating of all are McCarthy’s in-game “reports.”  That they’re inane, that they smear our ears with silly, worthless tripe (“I talked with Mark Teixeira before the game and he told he his back is better and that he’ll play tonight.” – while the camera is SHOWING him actually …. playing – egads!) is bad enough, but what’s unforgiveable is that those so-called reports interrupt the flow of the game. There have been two occasions where home runs were hit while “T-Mac” was babbling on about nothing.  Ryan Howard hit a dramatic 8th inning home run on May 4th – a game winner – and what did viewers hear during that exciting moment?  We heard a silly and worthless (non) interview with Jerry Coleman.  Jerry Coleman?  Who cares?  And then, a few days later, Tommy boy had to pause during his banal Pat Gillick interview with an, oh by the way, that’s a 400 foot homerun by Kelly Johnson. Wow, Tom that’s some mighty fine reporting. Too bad he took the spotlight away from the game, you know, the game where someone is supposed to actually report on the proceedings AS THEY HAPPEN! (Who might that reporter be? Oh, I don’t know, maybe a Hall of Famer named Harry Kalas.)

To intrude on the game as McCarthy does is really unforgivable. I understand that he’d want more air time, but not at the expense of compromising the game’s integrity – and his own.

But let’s go on. Have you noticed McCarthy’s fake laughs when Garry Matthews makes a feeble attempt at humor? Matthews will say something that could easily be ignored – and should be ignored – and what does Tom do? He guffaws. Dosen’t he realize we’re we’re watching and listening and his response marks him as a phony?  Oh, HA HA HAHAHA HA HA!  Indeed.

And last, for now, Tom has to stop wearing his pale powder blue nightie top.  He looks like a doughboy waiting for his mommy to tuck him in.  Something more manly would help.  And at this point in the proceedings, Tom McCarthy needs all the help he can get.

P.S.  Two of McCarthy’s most recent interview “gets” were a minister who led a choir in singing the National Anthem, and a member of a girl’s teenaged softball team.  Wow, Tom, amazing stuff.  Wow, again, Tom, because that’s some awesome reporting on matters of great importance to all us fans. Just because I’m a good guy, Tom, and want to help, how about some interviews with a serial “boo-er,” or maybe even a worker who wraps Hatfield hot dogs in aluminum foil? Now, that would really be something.

Why Michael (The Emperor) Barkann Barkann’t

Wink! Wink! Smirk! Smirk! 
Smirk! Smirk! Wink! Wink!
There you have it, 8 words encapsulating the self-indulgent-look-at-me-ain’t-I-great verbose mutterings of Comcast Sportsnet TV Emperor, Michael Barkann’t.

Sports fans in this town have been infested with Barkanna Pestis, a widespread bacterium that infects our airwaves, not to mention our cognitive senses. There is to date no known cure.  And sad to say, my fellow citizens, but Barkanna Pestis is spreading.

Not content to dominate 7 1/2 hours of Daily News Live airtime, Barkann’t has bullied his way into doing the post game shows for both the Flyers and the 76ers. When the playoffs were in full swing, that meant Barkann’t got a another hour or so most every night.  If you do the math, that adds up to upwards of 15 hours of Barkanna Pestis per week.  

But, I ask you, is this enough Barkann’t?  Don’t we want more?  I, for one, want lots more.  I don’t see why we can’t have all-Barkann’t all the time.  I know the dear man needs time to sleep and eat and do other stuff, but that doesn’t mean Barkann’t, even in a comatose state, won’t still be fascinating to viewers.

(I’ll stop for now. This is just a taste tease.  There is more Barkann’t text to come.  Much more.  Stay tuned.) 

 

Who is Rob Brooks and Why He Must Be Fired NOW!

That the Phillies have lost more games than any team in the history of Major League Baseball is a sad, but well known fact among sports cognoscenti in this town.  What’s less well known is how Rob Brooks has destroyed a first place Phillies telecast.

Who is Rob Brooks, you ask?  Brooks is the Phillies Director of Broadcasting.  If you know your Phillies history, you could say Brooks is the broadcasting equivalent of former Phillies shortstop Steve Jeltz.  Jeltz, who played for the Phils from 1983-89, hit a “robust” .210 for his career, accumulating all of 5 home runs in 1749 at bats.  That four of those homers came in one season shouldn’t detract from the meagerness of his slugging prowess.  Of course, this belies the question of “How did Jeltz get the job, anyway?”

Well, Brooks has “Jeltzed” us fans.  The Phils’ telecasts have been murderous on the ears for the last three years.  They are beyond horrible.  They are the futile attempts by Brooks trying to prove how smart, how clever he is.  All his odd, and yes, stupid moves, have destroyed the pleasures of listening.  The Cult of How Wonderful I Am Rob has destroyed the beauty of a televised game.

Ok, we know how terrific Harry and Whitey were.  What a team!  Their telecasts were joys to behold and we loved them both. I’ll even admit to enjoying Chris Wheeler’s commentary. No matter how horrid the Phillies were, no matter how incompetent the team, you could still enjoy watching even a lopsided, losing game.

But then Richie Ashburn died, and Larry Anderson took his spot.  “L.A.” was more than serviceable. He was a rookie who replaced an icon, but he was charming and had an easy rapport with Harry.  Watching a Phillies telecast was still a pleasure.

But the Cult of Rob couldn’t put up with Anderson. Apparently, Andy didn’t always pause to comment upon an on-screen graphic, or sometimes ignored a frivolous shot of an outfielder standing at rest, doing nothing. For these horrible sins, Andy was castaway and given play-by-play duties on the radio.  How dumb was that? Poor Anderson was ill equipped to handle the job and was made to seem incompetent to listeners.  But don’t blame Andy.  Error:  Brooks (1).

In a single move, Brooks castrated both the radio and television broadcasts – a wretched doubleheader if ever there was one.  With sublime ego and utter stupidity, Brooks replaced Anderson with Scott “The Vacuous Voice” Graham. Graham had two things going for him:  a great, if anonymous speaking voice, and the ability to speak very fast. That he didn’t have any sense of how to tell a baseball story was both obvious and irrelevant, at least to the Cult of Rob. Brooks fired him after one year. Error:  Brooks (2).

Then, Brooks hired the Sarge, Gary Matthews.  I was so excited.  I couldn’t wait to hear Matthews, remembering with happiness his flair for playing outfield for the Phillies from 1981-83. There’s an indelible picture in my mind of Matthews crossing the plate after a home run and pointing a long index finger skyward.  That was a signature moment all Phils fans loved.

So, with delicious anticipation, I tuned-in to the first inning of the first spring training telecast in 2007. After one sentence, I knew we’d been screwed.  Not only screwed, but pregnant with an unwanted child. Matthews was atrocious.  Really, the worst, most feeble excuse for a television color man in history. Indisputably.  It was painful to listen to him.  Was he really so stupid?  Was he really so incoherent, so incompetent, such a nincompoop?  The answers, sadly, were, and are, yes, yes, and yes.  Error:  Brooks (3).

But get this: Brooks foisted Matthews on us fans for the full 9 innings of every game. Nine  Innings!!!!!!!!! If you multiply 9 times 162 games in a season you get Sarged for 1458 innings.  My God, absoultely brutal!

But wait, there was more Brooksian cleverness underway.  He put three men in the booth:  Harry, Wheels and Matthews.  It was incoherent.  There was no rhythm.  All three tripped over each other. The beautiful pace of a baseball telecast was emasculated.  In its place was noise.  Even worse, when Harry was excused for innings 4, 5 and 6 (cigar break), that just meant more Matthews mutterings.  Pathetic.  Error:  Brooks (4).

So, Matthews, the Sarge, was demoted to Private for 2008.  Now he only gets 3 innings per game. (Praise the Lord for small blessings.) But still, the telecasts, to use a word I deplore, suck.  More Brooksian cleverness is in play.  Now, we have a disjointed telecast of another persuasion.  Once again the lovely cadences of a first rate baseball telecast is subservient to the Cult of Rob. Rob wants to show the world how smart he is.  What an innovator!  Yuck!

Now we have this:  Innings 1 and 2: Harry and Wheels.  Inning 3:  Harry and Matthews.  Innings 4 and 5: (newly hired) Tom McCarthy.  Inning 6 – McCarthy and Wheels.  Innings 7-8 and 9:  Harry and Wheels. The telecasts have been ruptured into 5 separate, disjointed parts, which means there is no continuity at all. Zero.

And worse, in a move to apparently placate McCarthy for getting only 3 TV innings, we now have “McCarthy Inserts” about 3 times per game.  Right in the middle of action, the camera cuts away to McCarthy standing in some faraway place in the ball yard, nuking the proceedings with yet another bunch of blather. Meanwhile the game goes on, and pitches are missed by the camera.  Or, if the camera cuts away to the action, McCarthy is still talking, obliterating the in-game commentary of Harry and Wheels. Error: Brooks (5).

It’s maddening.  During a recent home telecast, McCarthy was interviewing the Padres announcer, Jerry Coleman, in the bottom of the 8th inning.  That the interview was a senseless interruption- Coleman was dull and uncooperative – is a moot (mute) point.  Because at just that moment, Ryan Howard hit a majestic home run to right field to give the Phils a go-ahead run, which proved to be the game winner.

And what did we hear?  Another magical “Home-Run-It’s-Outta-Here” call by our beloved Harry? No, we heard McCarthy make a late, lame, parenthetical note that, oh, by the way, Howard had homered. And then he went back to his non-sensical mutterings with Coleman. The incompetence in astounding. I mean, it’s so stupid, so self-serving, so moronic.  Error:  Brooks (6).

If I could have three wishes for this 2008 Philies season, it would be as follows:  1.  The Phils win the World Series.  2.  Matthews is fired.  3.  Brooks is fired and winds up in a similar position with the Mets. Or, to put it another way:  Six errors and you’re OUTTA HERE!!!!!

P.S.  I’m going CRAZY!  I’m ready to vomit. It’s May 14th and the Phils are, at this moment, playing the Braves.  Tom McCarthy (“T-Mac” – as if) has already intruded on the first inning with his in-game report. McCarthy has informed us that Mark Teixeira, who is batting for the Braves in the first inning, told him before the game that his “back was better,” and that he intended to play tonight.  Well, Duh.  Thanks, Tom, for that fantastically worthless piece of obviousness. Yes, Mark is, indeed, “better,” as evidenced by the fact that he’s now batting, and, therefore, is IN THE GAME!

But there’s more and it’s worse.  It’s the top of the second inning now, and McCarthy has still another intrusion, this time an interview with Phils GM, Pat Gillick.  No matter that the first batter of the inning goes to five pitches before making out, while Harry Kalas remains mute. THEN, the next batter, Kelly Johnson hits a 400+ foot home run, again during a useless interview.  Once more, Harry is muted, while McCarthy, parenthetically, tosses in an oh, by the way, just in case you might be interested, you stupid fans, Kelly Johnson just hit a home run.  Now let’s get back to my vacuous and completely worthless interview. Screw the game. And screw all of you who tuned-in.

Is this not preposterous? Does it not make you sick? This is once again the work of Rob (The Game Doesn’t Matter) Brooks, game rupturer. What an incredible moron! He is off his Rocker, and I DO mean John. How much longer will he be allowed to castrate these telecasts? Isn’t anyone paying attention? And, oh, if you didn’t watch you might not believe this, but one of the between innings commercials was for a funeral home! The colossal stupidity!! The utter idiocy!!! Oh, the horror!!!!

How much more crap must we take? 

 

 

Ed Moran – So Brave, So Stalwart, So Lonely

Daily News Hockey writer, Ed Moran, is a man of courage, conviction, and valor.  We need more Ed Moran’s on the Philly sports scene. It can be lonely when you’re the only writer who’s right. It can be isolating when you’re out there on an island, all by yourself, with nothing to get you back home except the exquisite knowledge that you’re the only one who knows the truth, and has cojones enough to speak the truth. But our Ed is nothing if not determined, despite overwhelming evidence that he’s a fool. 

Ed Moran is the one and only Philly sportswriter to refer to the Flyer’s Danny Briere as DANIEL.  He is steadfast, if not supercilious, in his resolve.  In his heart, he knows he’s right.  You are not going to sway Ed. The idiocy of his position as the one true believer that Danny prefers Daniel serves as a beacon of audaciousness to us all.  All praise Ed Moran, a public servant of steely tenacity.

But, wait, let’s pause to look at the Danny v. Daniel scorecard:

Philly sportswriters who refer to Briere as Danny:  
Tim Panaccio
Ray Parrillo
Phil Sheridan
Rich Hofmann
Sam Donnellon
Les Bowen 
Anthony J. SanFilippo
Jack McCaffery
And all other writers, well, almost. 

Philly sportswriters who refer to Briere as Daniel:
Ed Moran

And if you want a real scoop, I can tell the world that Ed Moran prefers, no, insists, that he now be referred to as Eduardo. Here’s to you, Eduardo, so right, so brave, so silly. 

 

P.S.  I can’t believe I missed this.  Our Eduardo refers to Vinny Prospal by his non-hockey name of Vaclav! Wow, that’s so exciting and encouraging.  O.E. (Our Eduardo) is not just a one trick pony.  By Golly, O.E. is true to his core.  Now I’ve done some research among Philly sports writers to see who calls Vinny “Vaclav” and who calls Vinny “Vinny.”  I’ve tabulated the results for all my fine readers and here they are:

Philly sportswriters who refer to Vaclav as Vinny:
Tim Panaccio
Ray Parrillo
Phil Sheridan
Rich Hofmann
Sam Donnellon
Les Bowen 
Anthony J. SanFilippo
Jack McCaffery

Philly sportswriters who refer to Vaclav as “Vaclav”: 
Ed (call me Eduardo) Moran.

God bless you, Eduardo.  Thank’s to your steadfast persistence in pursuit of a higher truth, there is peace and harmony in our little corner of the planet.

Leslie Gudel – A Pain in the Ears

Have you ever – ever! – heard a more grating TV voice than Comcast Sportsnet’s Leslie Gudel’s?  The mute button was invented for this woman.  She SHRIEKS!!!! Really, I’m not a meany. But it’s painful to listen to her. Her every word blisters my mind. Even if you turn the sound way down, that pain-in-the-ears voice remains abrasive. She makes scratching a blackboard sound like a lullaby. There is no relief, other than muting her, or just switching stations. 

Oh, one more thing.  On those rare occasions when I listen to a slice of her broadcast, she always makes at least one speaking error, ususally more. I mean, shouldn’t a minimum requirement for the job be that a newsreader speak without misspeaking?  It you can stand it, just listen to her next broadcast and see if I’m right.  I am.

Out of the Zu – Marc Zumoff is Wayoff

I was so thrilled when Marc Zumoff began announcing 76ers games. His was a fresh voice.  He knew the game and he reported it with clarity, with just the right amount of enthusiasm. He brought the games alive. Zu was a joy.

As he settled in, I thought Zu was on a path to the greatness of Merrill Reese and Harry Kalas. There is a beauty to the way Reese and Kalas call a game.  They clearly root root root for the good guys, but they tell a creditable story, while not getting in the way of that story.  Yes, Zu was headed in that august direction, but sadly (and I AM sad about this) he has become a cliché-ridden bore.  And worse, the clichés are of his own labored creation.  Instead of reporting the game, he seems to be saying, ”Hey everybody, look at me!  Wait till you hear this one! Ain’t I clever?”

Zumoff has coined so many catch phrases that he assaults the poor listener with what seems like scripted inserts. I mean Marv Albert has “Yes,” and Dick Enberg has “Oh, my,” but one catch phrase is not enough for Zu. No, Zumoff seems to have an endless supply of them. Now, when I watch a 76ers game on TV, I feel like I am under continuing attack with Marc’s precious and predictable “Zumoffisms.” Instead of reporting the game – which he once did so well – he postures and preens by churning out his stash of in-game clichés. He makes it painful to listen to the telecasts.

Here’s a list of Zumoffisms, right off the top of my head:  

takes him to the weight room

turning garbage into gold

mining for gold 


lock all windows and doors


in among the trees



bust a move 


heaves it down


double vision


Yes!  or Yesss!  or YESSSSSS! or OH, YESSSSSSSSSSSSS!

That’s nine of them.  I’ll bet there are at least nine more.

If Zumoff could get back to making the game about the game, instead of about him, watching the 76ers on TV could become fun again.  But for now, Zu is both predictable and heavy handed (heavy mouthed?). Sad to say, he’s made himself more important than the game. 

P.S.  While we’re on the subject of sports announcing, let me just say:  Bob Salmi must go!  His relentlessly preachy commentary is so tiring, so tedious. I’ll bet you weren’t aware of this little known fact: basketball was not invented by Dr. James Naismith, or even by Stephen A. Smith. No, it was Salmi.  Just ask him. 

 

Thanks, Bill Conlin, You’re Too Kind

Now I know how it feels to be a “Teflonic,” a member of the “Gang of Six,”
or the newly minted, “Gilbuckle.”

Yes, I’ve been slammed by the over friendly Master, Bill Conlin.  The Big Man, once a fireballing columnist, but now throwing slider speed slop out of the bullpen, who, upon receiving a complementary posting of my new blog, wrote this:  “Took it, blocked it and now will never miss it. . .”  Thanks, Big Man, makes me feel all warm and toasty. 

 

Gary Matthews – Discharge the Sarge

So, let’s begin.  Let’s begin with the most painful, grating, puerile announcing work ever to be foisted upon us fans. Of course, I’m referring to the horrid mutterings of Gary (The Sarge) Matthews, alleged color man for Phillies telecasts.  Ordinarily, I’d demote the Sarge to Private, but his work is so bad, I have to drum him out of the service with a Dishonorable Discharge.  Now that I think of it, Matthews pollutes the airwaves with a putrid stream, no, make that a river, of nasty discharges.  

During yesterday’s telecast (Phils v. Padres, Sunday, May 4th) I counted the number of times Matthews used his favorite crutch – “ACTUALLY.”   He actually used “actually” 14 (!) times in 3 innings. Just be thankful he isn’t doing all 9 innings like last year. His “actually’s” would total 42.  Hard to believe, Harry.

But, wait, there’s more.  Matthews never seems to connect the beginning of a thought with a conclusion. He wanders all over the tortured outfield of his mind.  And he doesn’t simply have a grasp of the obvious, no, he has a choke hold.  Get this:  Referring to former pitcher Mike Krukow:  ”He’s got a vineyard where they actually make wine out there.”  Brilliant.  Or how about this juicy bit of reporting, referring to the Giants’ Emmanuel Burriss scoring on a close play at the plate: “He actually got his foot in there and made it easy – not easy – for the umpire to see.” Inane to the Nth.

What’s a fan to do?  I’ve tried muting Matthews, but that really doesn’t work. So, sadly, I’ve given-up the Phils telecasts during Matthews’ time – the 3rd through the 5th innings. I am, however, getting more (vin) yard work done while listening to the radio broadcast of the very adequate Scott Franske.

In parting, I would like to sing the Sarge outta here: na na na na, na na na na, hey hey, goodbye.

PC – Post’s Coming:  Rob Brooks – Phillies Director of Broadcasting, must follow Matthews out the door. Marc Zumoff and his clutch (crutch) of cliched announcing.  Ed Moran gets it right – He’s the only person in the 6th largest city in America to know that Danny Briere prefers to be called Daniel. Thank you, Eduardo!