Regular readers know that my avocation (as opposed to “vocation,” a three-syllable word meaning “job”) is sports announcing.
I’ve been doing a whole lot of sports announcing lately. Last week, I announced two high school football playoff games and two high school playoff volleyball matches in four days. The previous week, I did four matches and one game in five days.
Tonight, I make my college basketball (re)debut announcing the UW–Platteville exhibition basketball game at UW–Milwaukee. Friday, I am announcing three matches at the WIAA Girls Volleyball Championships in Ashwaubenon. If more than none of those three teams wins Friday, I will be back Saturday for the state title match(es).
(You can listen here to all of that, however much “that” there turns out to be.)
Going to Green Bay via Milwaukee may seem a bit much if you don’t live in southeastern Wisconsin. (But someone who works for a Rice Lake radio station is going from Rice Lake to Green Bay for state in the morning, then going to La Crosse for a high school football playoff game Friday night. Depending on what happens at state, he may be back Saturday.) Last week, I went from Platteville to Whitewater, stopping in Darlington to do a playoff football game.
Why do we do this? Good question! Because it’s fun, particularly for us who are sports fans but were never good enough to actually participate. It’s even more fun to be part of a postseason tournament experience, because the stakes are higher — to get to the NCAA tournament, or to get to a state high school tournament. The crushing loss isn’t losing at state; it’s losing the game before state, because regardless of what happens at state, if you get to state, you’ve had a great season, and if you don’t get to state, whatever you accomplished falls a bit short.
Recall that ABC-TV’s Wide World of Sports opened with “the thrill of victory, and the agony of defeat,” but the sentence after that was “the human drama of athletic competition.” You think you know what’s going to happen, but that doesn’t mean that that will happen. Teams enter postseasons with losing records, and exit the postseason at the state tournament. (That’s happened twice with teams I’ve covered.) Favorites to go to state don’t get there.
Travel for announcers is far from rare. (Indeed, Major League Baseball announcers of an advanced level of experience, such as the Dodgers’ Vin Scully and the Brewers’ Bob Uecker, often cut back their schedules due to onerous travel.) The venue tonight, Panther Arena in Milwaukee, formerly was the home of the Milwaukee Bucks and thus their second announcer, Jim Irwin. At the time, Irwin also did the Packers and Badger football, which meant some weekends had him doing a Badger game on Saturday, the Packers Sunday afternoon, and a Bucks game Sunday night. And if none of those teams played at home, Irwin went with the team; on occasion a second announcer started the Bucks game before Irwin could get back from wherever the Packers played. And, by the way, Irwin did the morning sports on WTMJ radio in Milwaukee, when he was around to do so.
The current version of Irwin is Wayne Larrivee, who announces college football on Saturdays, and until a few years ago did Chicago Bulls games on TV Saturday nights. Before he got to the networks Marv Albert juggled Giants football, Knicks basketball on TV, Rangers hockey on radio, and sports on WNBC-TV in New York (which did not carry Knicks games; Albert was one of the rare announcers who appeared on more than one TV station in the same market). Somehow he never announced baseball.
The ultimate in non-air non-highest-level travel must be the NCAA Division III Midwest Conference, within which I started doing Ripon College basketball in the late 1990s. Going from St. Norbert College in De Pere to Illinois College in Jacksonville, Ill., makes a trip from, say, Whitewater to Superior seem, well, shorter.
The Midwest Conference schedule features weekend women’s and men’s basketball doubleheaders to reduce travel costs when northern teams (Beloit, Carroll, Lawrence, Ripon, St. Norbert) go south of the state line (Lake Forest, Illinois College, Knox and Monmouth in Illinois, and now Cornell and Grinnell in Iowa), or vice versa. The teams went down a day early, and we never traveled with the team, so we’d take Friday off from work, drive to site one, announce the game, drive to site two, arrive in the wee hours of the morning, do that game, and then drive home.
There were two epic driving trips in that schedule. One year, I did a game in Monmouth, then drove to Grinnell for Saturday’s game, where I met my wife (and, I mention only because this adds to the story, our four-months-away-from-being-born son) and car. My partner drove back to Ripon while we continued to the Twin Cities, where she had an alumni event Sunday morning. So I spent the weekend doing a thousand-mile driving loop of the Midwest.
One year later came Operation Krispy Kreme. That year’s schedule had a trip to Lake Forest and Illinois College. Early that season I was reading the Wall Street Journal at work and read a story about the cult of Krispy Kreme doughnuts. Intrigued, I discovered that Krispy Kreme had a store sort of on the way to Illinois College. So we decided to hit Krispy Kreme between games.
Mrs. Presteblog told her coworkers about Operation Krispy Kreme. By the time we left, not only were we getting doughnuts for ourselves, we were getting them for her coworkers — two of this, one of those, and so on for a page-long list. Complicating matters was that the Lake Forest game, on the north side of Chicago, went to overtime, making us wonder if we’d get to the store, on the south side of Chicago, before midnight, when the store closed. We made it with 20 minutes to spare, and the store was full.
Armed with Krispy Kremes and their coffee, we left Chicago, drove through snow and arrived in Jacksonville, at 3:40 a.m. The following day, we announced two more games, then headed back, and I got home at 3:25 a.m. (On the other hand, as we noted numerous times, the scenery in most of Illinois is best viewed at night.)
That, however, is not as far as I’ve traveled for college sports. The University of Utah, one year removed from playing in the NCAA championship game, invited Ripon to play. And so we flew via O’Hare Field in Chicago (because O’Hare never closes because of snow) to Salt Lake City, celebrating the New Year with the most polite people you’ll ever meet on earth. On New Year’s Day, which happened to be the same day as Wisconsin’s second Rose Bowl win over UCLA, we watched at the hotel bar, then I ran to our room to get a tape recorder for the pregame interview with Utah coach Rick Majerus, getting to our room just in time to see the game-ending quarterback sack. Then after watching the Utes’ practice, I asked Majerus seven questions, and got 15 minutes of answers.
The morning of the game, we awoke to find out that O’Hare, which never closes because of snow, was closing because of the 23 inches of snow the airport was in the process of getting. Task number one of game day therefore was to get our Sunday flight home rescheduled — as it turned out, to Wednesday. The radio station news and sports director said later that it was the most listened to game in the station’s history, because Ripon was getting hit by 18 inches of snow, and the game wasn’t on TV.
Division III athletics is more difficult than Division I, because the student–athletes are students first, and therefore lack the accouterments of Division I — buses instead of planes, for instance. Another partner of mine tells the story about going to a game riding on the team bus, and hearing absolute silence after the bus pulled away because the students were studying. (The UW Marching Band bus experience is different, to put it mildly.)







































