Relief and Sadness: Goodbye to Another Baseball Season
Scribbled notes on a Cocktail Napkin: How the final baseball game of the season is bittersweet and you never what's next
Scribbling from Reno
Today is the end of the season for the Albuquerque Isotopes, my 11th with the team and 24th year working in various baseball jobs. It’s a day filled with mixed emotions, equal amounts of relief and sadness.
Let’s start with sadness. I enjoy what I do immensely. My life is more chaotic during baseball season, yet it’s also far more interesting. I get paid to travel the country with a baseball team and describe the action. I get to see old friends, meet new friends, and explore the country. It’s all I ever wanted to do. I never wanted to take it granted.
The next emotion is uncertainty. You never know what the future holds. The Isotopes treat me extremely well. I’ve been told the job is mine as long as I want it. I’m very lucky. Still, next year is never promised. On the final day of the 2019 season, I had no idea a global pandemic would forever disrupt our lives. We never know how our lives will change, whether it’s our decision or not, and when is our last game.
Admittedly, a big emotion is relief. I’m tired. I’ve called 144 of our 150 games. I work solo, with no analyst and no engineer. I also worked 15 college baseball games in February/March, so that’s 159 games over the last seven months. It’s more mental fatigue than physical. The Isotopes record is historically bad. Finding the right outlook each night is challenging. I’m excited to get nights, weekends and holidays free for the first time since mid-February.
Each year around this time, I remind myself of a conversation with my friend Johnny Doskow.
The year was 2015. The Isotopes finished the season with four games in Sacramento. Neither team was going to the playoffs. Back when “September callups” were a big deal, those decision were already made. I admitted to Johnny that it was hard to get motivated for the final games.
The conversation went something like this:
Johnny: “Bro, remember when you were broadcasting for Single-A Modesto?”
Me: “Yes, bro.”
Johnny: “Bro, imagine if somebody came up to you and said, ‘hey, we need somebody to fill-in for the final four games of the year at Triple-A. Are you interested?’ What would be your reaction, bro?”
Me: “Bro, I would be SOOO pumped to call meaningless Triple-A games.”
Johnny: “Exactly, bro. So broadcast these final games like you spent all season at Single-A and this is the best opportunity of your lifetime, bro.”
It’s one of the best pieces of advice I’ve ever received.
For new subscribers: Hi, I’m Josh, a former newspaper reporter who is now the play-by-play announcer for the Albuquerque Isotopes (the Rockies Triple-A affiliate). I write essays on baseball, life, and promote my other side projects on this Substack Newsletter. Subscriptions are free and tips are appreciated.
Isotopes final game oddities
In 2008, the Isotopes finished the season at Round Rock. The Express hitters had an idea. What if every player on both teams used the same bat? They convinced the Isotopes players to try it. (This was before I worked for the Topes, but was told the story by former player Michael Ryan, who is now the Topes bench coach). The one bat lasted until the seventh inning. Round Rock won the game, 1-0, and it finished in one hour and 35 minutes. The game featured zero walks and only eight strikeouts.
In 2016, the Isotopes finished the season at El Paso. Somebody called in a bomb threat to the ballpark. You had fans leaving the ballpark, players packing and saying their goodbyes, some players getting told they’re going to the majors, and half the ballpark exits were closed. I was told during my postgame about the bomb threat. I thought it was a joke. I left the ballpark, got dinner at a nearby El Paso restaurant with my coworker Andrew, then returned to the ballpark to get my equipment and we finally drove home.
In 2018, the Isotopes finished in Reno. The eighth inning ended and I sent us to commercial break with some type of dramatic words about the final inning of the season is next. Then I saw the managers talking to the umpires. We hit the game’s curfew. That was it. I came back from the commercial break to say, “actually, the game is already over and so is the season. We hit the curfew.”
In 2019, the Isotopes finished in Fresno. I’d already planned an immediate vacation in Southern California and rented a car to drive there. The Rockies were playing the Dodgers in LA. Three players (Drew Butera, DJ Johnson and Josh Fuentes) were told they were going to the majors for the final month, so they got a ride with me. I was terrified that I’d get into a crash and ruin these guys’ careers. Butera offered to drive. Without hesitating I handed him the keys immediately. We stopped at In-n-Out before the Grapevine and they made it safely to their hotel in LA.
Yesterday, I interviewed pitcher Geoff Hartlieb for the pregame show. When he pitched the other night, that meant he’s pitched in all 30 Triple-A ballparks — and 17 Major League stadiums. I asked him about his emotions at the final week of the season. His answer about the uniqueness of Triple-A baseball was outstanding.
Here’s an excerpt:
It used to be, I was really excited to go home. I would pop in the car and drive home that night, always through the night, get home. I’d wanna be home as fast as I can. Now? I still wanna get home. I got my kids and my wife at home.
But it's also … you never know when your last game is gonna be sometimes. And you get a little appreciation for your last week, you're around the guys.
There's nothing like a Triple-A clubhouse. It's a special place. It's different than a big league clubhouse. It's different than any lower-level clubhouse. And the guys you spend 150 games with -- more time than your family, for an entire year -- you've become really good friends with, you won't see some of them again. Ever.
It's just a weird emotional time. It's a weird perspective. You're with these guys all day, every day. I'm hanging out with them all night after the game, and then, after Sunday’s game, I might only see, maybe five of them, again, probably in my life. It's just crazy.
Triple-A is a special place to end the season.
Seriously, it’s hard for people to fathom the reality of Triple-A baseball. It’s the highest level in the minors. You’re one step from the majors. You’re also on the brink of your career ending and having to find a real job.
This week’s not-so random Immaculate Grid: Joe Cowley
Speaking of you never know what the future will hold, it’s time for the Joe Cowley story.
He was on top of the world on Sept. 19, 1986. Pitching for the Chicago White Sox, Cowley he threw a no-hitter to defeat the California Angels. It was an unconventional no-hitter. He walked seven batters. He allowed a run. Still. He did not allow a hit and the White Sox were victorious, 7-1, before 28,647 fans.
Little did Cowley know, he’d never win another game in the major leagues.
Cowley made three more starts that season. He didn’t pitch poorly in any of them – never more than four runs, and only two runs in eight innings in one of them -- but ended up with two losses and a no-decision.
In the offseason, the White Sox traded Cowley to the Phillies. In his first start of 1987, he was knocked out in the first inning, giving up seven total runs. In his second start, he walked four batters, gave up four hits and five runs in the first inning and was removed. The Phillies gave him two more starts. He allowed 5 runs, then 6 runs.
Cowley had walked 15 batters in 11 innings, developing what’s been referred to as “the thing” or “the Creature” or “the yips” or “Steve Blass Syndrome.”
The Phillies sent him to the bullpen. In his first outing, the home fans reigned boos on him as he entered the game. He faced six batters, walked two, allowed two hits and got two outs. He later told a reporter he was terrified warming up and never threw a single strike in the bullpen.
Next, the Phillies sent him to Triple-A. They tried everything from mechanical tweaks to a mental skills coach. Nothing worked. He was fine in the bullpen, then fall apart on the mound. He said he once walked 11 batters in 2 1/3 innings. He was sent home for a mental break and tried again the next season. His struggles continued and he retired.
There have been 326 no-hitters in MLB history. Joe Cowley remains the only pitcher to throw a no-hitter and never get another win again.
Game 162 memories
A week from today is the final game of the MLB regular season.
Some of my favorite memories of attending baseball games are the finale, game 162, or the final home game, even if they don’t have any significance on the playoffs.
In 1987, I ditched school to attend the A’s final home game. I got a Brett Butler cracked bat and a bunch of autographs. [More on this coming with Tuesday’s post.]
In 2004, I was the A’s beat writer. They had been eliminated the day before by the Angels. The final game was irrelevant. Still, Barry Zito wanted to play catch one more time. He went around the clubhouse looking for someone to play catch. It seemed curious. He started the day before. “I miss baseball already,” Zito told me, then found someone to go play catch one more time.
In 2010, it was Joe Torre’s final weekend as a manager. It was his tradition to let a player manage the final game of the season, if the game had no playoff implications. Torre managed the final game himself, but turned over the responsibilities to Brad Ausmus and Jamey Carroll to alternate as manager and bench coach, for the 2nd and 3rd to last games. Here’s a feature I did on it.
Coming up this week …
My season with the Isotopes ends today, but I’ll still be at a ballpark all next week. (Yes, I’m that guy.)
I’m going to watch the A’s final three games at the Oakland Coliseum. I’m trying not to think too much about what I’ll be feeling in advance. But whenever I think about the places I want to sit one last time, and everything else I want to do one last time, especially walking on the BART Bridge, I start getting emotional.
I’ll have lots of posts next week about the final games.
If you enjoyed today’s Newsletter, I think you’ll also enjoy these posts from my archives.
Josh--
Great, GREAT piece of advice from Johnny D...but also a great piece on AAA ball and how difficult it is, and in reality hurtful it is, to see another season leave. It has always seemed to me, and you and I have probably discussed this before, but once a season starts...to me it takes until Memorial Day for the season to get to full warp speed. July 4th? Forget it, we're a tMach 10.....and by August 1, I always found myself...and did this season DREADING the final out of the final game. I liken it to the aforementioned Mach 10, right into a concrete wall...we're racing to the end..the end comes...our baseball life, at least for the near future ends and.....
Once season ends and we're forced to embrace the ghastly slow tick TOK, TICK TOK!!! Will the freaking season EVER get here....then it does and here we go...revving to Mach....a partial college season...then fire up thrusters...here we go again.
And right back to players conversations, coaches and managers and scouts talks--nothing but pure treasure troves of information and fun.
You did such a good job with this....yes, it is all about whether we'll be invited back again...MOST of the time I have been in almost 30 years...but in the spots I haven't been, turns out it has been for the better and I am still working! But you so well encompassed the lives we live in this game.
This all reminds me of a classic couple of lines from Hall of Famer Rogers Hornsby. (all paraphrased) Someone asked him once, 'whaataya do in the winter, Raj?'
"Well," he snarled, "I wake up ever morn, drink me a cuppa coffee, then stare out the window and get sad lookin at snow, not seein no green grass...but I bygod keep starin and then I getta go back to spring training."
Crazy as it sounds, I get that and I know you do, too!
Hope our paths cross sooner than later and Blessings from Austin.
Mike Capps
Bowie and Harrisburg did the single bat thing in its last game back in 2012…sadly it only lasted a couple of innings before it broke