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A root cause for tripping out: October means a head-spinning travel sked—and mind-numbing questions about cheering interests

Sporting News, The, Oct 28, 2005

Talk about shelf life! As I was wandering through an airport the other day I finally realized how funny one of my dad's old jokes was. I am sure the same thing will happen to me in about 2009 when I finally chuckle at one of Larry David's lines from that unwatchable HBO series--I think I am the only person in this hemisphere who finds nothing on that show even remotely entertaining.

Now that I have alienated the majority of my small audience, let me get back to the point. My dad was a St. Louis Cardinals broadcaster from 1954 until his death three years ago. During those years, he also split his time broadcasting baseball and football for CBS, as well as hosting radio call-in shows in St. Louis.

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As you might imagine, this time of year is hectic and filled with travel for someone who makes a living calling both NFL and baseball games.

One day many Octobers ago I heard my father tell someone that he had been traveling so much he had passed himself while walking through the airport terminal at Lambert Field in St. Louis.

I thought about that line last week as I left Dallas after the Cowboys thrashed the Eagles. I flew home Sunday night, left Monday morning (not able to celebrate Columbus Day the traditional way--by not opening mail) for Anaheim, Calif., and the Yankees and Angels' ALDS finale, before taking a red-eye to Chicago for the start of the ALCS the next night.

I know how sorry you all feel for me having to fly around to the best games of the best sports. It can get tiring, but so what? It is a blast. I wouldn't want to be doing anything else--even the mail thing.

What does get tiresome are the questions. The people who ask which team I'm rooting for drive me nuts.

Yet again, let me state for the record: Contrary to popular belief in Boston and New York, I do not care who wins and therefore I do not root from the booth. Even if I did, I wouldn't tell the guy in row 5B just so he could call Mike and the Mad Dog and tell on me. Hell hath no fury like sports talk shows analyzing which team the network dimwit is rooting for.

The other questions are understandable. Hey, what's your name? What game you gonna cover? Where you off to next week? And those are just from my wife.

But the best was last week. On my flight to Dallas--after takeoff--the guy next to me leaned over and asked me where I was going. Presumably he had forgotten we were on a plane, not a subway. I appreciate the interest in where I'm going; I really do. But in the back of my mind I believe some of these questioners are just wondering whether they are going to have to use the mute button for their team's game that night.

Time to stop typing. We're about to land, and the flight attendant just gave me that look.

By the way, how is it possible that by leaving my iPod on I pose a threat to the safety of the plane?

Hard to ... wait a minute ... where ... I thought this was the ... this isn't Chicago?) Sorry, that was so Larry David of me.

A root cause for tripping out: October means a head-spinning travel sked—and mind-numbing questions about cheering interests

Sporting News, The, Oct 28, 2005

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