Scribbled notes on a cocktail napkin, Part XVII
Mother’s Day Edition … The real(ish) Kit and Dottie from League of their Own … Mother Hubbard … Watching Bull Durham with (gulp) my grandmother … and "others duties as assigned" memories
"Scribbled notes on a cocktail napkin" is my weekly Sunday feature that's a tribute to the sports columnists I grew up reading who penned Herb Caen-inspired three dot columns. It's an excuse to shamelessly plug my other side projects, post my favorite Immaculate Grid from the week with a story about one of the players, link to stories I found interesting, and string together loose topics on my mind.
Scribbling from El Paso
The movie “A League of their Own” is a dramatization about a real baseball league, The All-American Girls Professional Baseball League that played from 1943-54. That league is on my mind today because it’s Mother Day’s and I’ll be at a ballpark where various pink bats, clean and batting gloves will be worn by players.
The movie’s primary two players are sisters Kit and Dottie, who are fictional, but very much inspired by the real life sister duo of Helen and Marge Callaghan.
Helen was one of the league’s biggest stars. She led the league in batting once and stole over 100 bases another year – and remember, they were ladies, so they were forced to wear skirts, not pants. Helen missed the 1947 season due to injury and part of the 1948 season after getting married to a man named Robert Candaele and having the first of her five sons.
One of her boys was Casey Candaele, who was taught the sport by his mother, made his Major League debut in 1986, played 18 years of professional baseball, including nine years in the majors with the Expos, Astros and the Indians.
“I was probably about 12 years old before I realized that she was a player,” Candaele said. “It was an eye-opener for me to realize that wow, my mom did play professional baseball.”
And, he added, “she was actually better than me.”
He says his mother taught him that there is no substitute for playing hard and hustling on every play.
His father left the family in 1969, when Casey was eight, about the time Helen became his batting-practice pitcher and started frightening the other Little League parents.
Another of Helen’s son was named Kelly, who produced a 1987 documentary about the women’s hardball league, which got the attention of famed director Penny Marshall. Kelly later wrote the original script for the movie that hit theaters in 1992, directed by Marshall, and starring Tom Hanks, Geena Davis, Lori Petty and Madonna.
Three decades before Title IX, and the rise in popularity of multiple professional women’s sports leagues, the AAGPBL were the pioneers in breaking barriers.
The real-life AAGPBL held a reunion in Albuquerque in 2014.
I got to interview Louise “Lou” Erickson Sauer during the broadcast and enjoyed all her stories. This is a link to her biography and here is a photo of us in the booth. I’m holding one of her baseball cards.
My mom at the ballpark
The first time my mom heard me broadcast a baseball game was the 1996 exhibition between San Diego State and the Padres at Jack Murphy Stadium. If I remember correctly, my broadcast partner Coby Ginsburg and I didn’t get a booth in the press box. The Padres just put a table in the second deck of the stands and that was fine with us. It was incredible. My mom bought a ticket and hovered nearby in the stands.
The second time was in 2013. The Isotopes were playing in Sacramento. My mom sat next to me in a real broadcast booth.
When the game was over, I asked her what she thought. I’ll paraphrase the conversation.
Mom: “you’re not as smart as I thought you were.”
Me: “What?”
Mom: “I thought you had all those stats memorized. You have printed stats, notes, reference guides, you’re looking up things on the internet constantly.”
Me: “I can’t possibly have all those things memorized. I have to make sure they’re accurate.”
Mom: “Oh, okay, but you’re still not as smart as I thought you were.”
At least once a year, my Mom comes to a game in Reno or Sacramento and sits next to me. I put her to work. Whenever I complete one of my “live ad reads,” she makes a notation for which inning for auditing purposes. You can see the page in the photo above.
One time, the parents of one of our players, Brock Peterson, came to the booth in Reno to say hello. They said nice words about my broadcasting style. When they left, my mom decided that Brock was her new favorite Isotopes player. There’s no cheering in the press box, but you could hear my mom clapping her hands when Brock got a hit that night.
This week’s not-so random Immaculate Grid story: Glenn Hubbard
When I think of Glenn Hubbard, two questions come to mind: why was his nickname Mother Hubbard? Why did he once have a baseball card with a snake around his neck?
The internet tells me this:
Hubbard made the 1983 All-Star Game, his only appearance in the Midsummer Classic, as a member of the Braves. When he batted in the 7th inning, announcers Vin Scully and Joe Garagiola made light-hearted comments about Hubbard’s trademark beard. Back then, beards were not as fashionable. Hubbard was only 26. But the beard made him look much older.
Ever the poet, Scully called him “Glenn Mother Hubbard” and the nickname stuck.
As for the story with the snake?
The Braves were in Philadelphia and the Phillie Phanatic invited a bunch of “friends” to join him for a birthday party. It was mostly other mascots and some live animals were part of the festivities too. This is how Hubbard once explained the rest of the story.
“They had a guy with a snake,” Hubbard remembered in his interview with the Carolina Sports Network. “I grabbed the guy and I grabbed the photographer and said, ‘Can I get my picture taken with the snake?’
“So he takes the picture and sends it to me in the mail; it was a big picture, an eight-by-10. The next Spring Training, a kid comes up to me and says, ‘Can you sign this for me?’ It (the photo) had ended up on a baseball card. Well, unbeknownst to me, the photographer was a freelance photographer for Fleer, a (recent) start-up company (with cards), and they just wanted some unique cards. That’s how it came about.”
In retrospect, some 35 years after the fact, Hubbard questions why he did what he did. “When I look at it now, (I say to myself) ‘What was I thinking?’
For a number of years, the snake card became a sore point with Hubbard.
“I used to not sign that thing,” Hubbard said, referring to the card, and not the snake. “I was mad that it ended up on a baseball card. I didn’t realize back then that any photo they take of you on a baseball field can end up the property of Major League Baseball. People would send me that card in the mail, but I would mail them back another card (signed for them). Nowadays, I don’t care. Now I do (sign the snake card).”
In 2016, Hubbard was a coach for the Lexington Legends. They gave away a Hubbard bobblehead with a snake wrapped around his neck.
Grandma Ashworth baseball memories
When I think of baseball memories involving my maternal grandmother, Jewel Ashworth, two come to mind.
The first: she took me to see the movie “Bull Durham” in the movie theatre. The movie came out in 1988, a few months before I turned 15. Little did either of us know, one of the first scenes is the star pitcher having sex with a groupie in the clubhouse. I was totally embarrassed. I can only imagine how mortified my grandmother was, sitting right next to her teenage son while sex is happening on a giant movie screen.
The second: this is a photo of us from my first job out of college with the Watertown Indians. My grandparents were retired, traveled around the country in their RV and came to visit me. This is before digital cameras, so when someone snapped a photo while you were fixing your hair, you didn’t know it until the film got developed.
Anyway, you see those advertisements behind me? One of my first tasks was to stand on a ladder and put a fresh coat of white paint on the edges and around the words. I nearly fell multiple times.
I forgot to include this story with my Advice to the Class of 2024 newsletter. The item on job descriptions that reads “other duties as assigned” is very real.
This week’s Crafting the Call episode
This week’s “Crafting the Call” YouTube series focuses on outfielders making amazing catches and how catch phrases can help the announcer capture the moment. I need to work on my catch phrases. Here’s a clip.
Open invitation to anyone who wants to send me suggestions … or provide us wine.
I need a Mom reference for this section, so I’ll add one of the most famous catchphrases of legendary Mariners announcer Dave Niehaus for a grand slam.
“Get out the rye bread and mustard, Grandma. It’s grand salami time!”
Here’s the story of how Niehaus came up with it.
“I’ve always called a grand slam home run a salami,” Niehaus said. “I went back to the hotel one time and said, ‘Well, what goes well with salami?’ And I came up with rye bread and mustard.”
The call took off from there, much to Niehaus’ surprise. One day in the Kingdome, a fan from the 300 level attached a salami to a fishing pole and slowly lowered it down to the broadcast level, where it swayed in front of Niehaus, Cremin and Rizzs.
“I’m not eating that,” an incredulous Niehaus told Rizzs.
That was just the start. People would lower full salami sandwiches down to the booth, and even full jars of mustard. The Oberto Sausage Company based in Kent, south of Seattle, sent Niehaus a salami nearly four feet long. “Grand Salami” was later used as the name of an independent magazine sold outside the Kingdome and then Safeco Field, which opened in the summer of 1999.
My grandmother would love that story.
This week’s “Where Ya At?” podcast guest: Chidozie Ononiwu
I host a podcast for San Diego State’s School of Journalism and Media Studies titled “Where Ya At?” Each week, I interview an alum to learn about their experience at SDSU, transitioning from student to professional, and their current job. You can listen on all podcast platforms.
The podcast is on hiatus for the Summer and will return in the Fall, so I’m going to link to something from the archives.
Chidozie spent five years working at ESPN, becoming “the gatekeeper” for which stories were chosen for the “30 For 30” sports documentaries series that’s one of my favorites ongoing pieces of Journalism to watch on TV.
Initially, he didn’t get the job at ESPN. His mother persuaded him to follow-up with the decision makers. He was reluctant at first, but listened to his mother, followed-up, and ended up getting the job after all. Always listen to your mom.
This episode remains the most downloaded. Here is a link to it.