How I Met Jerry Coleman

jerry coleman baseball cardJerry Coleman died today. Seven decades in baseball. World Series MVP as a player. Broadcaster. Manager.

I met Jerry in the late 70s. I was working in Philadelphia radio and our helicopter traffic guy, Walt McDonald, knew Jerry from San Diego. Could he arrange for me to watch a Phillies/Padres game from the broadcast booth as Jerry did play-by-play?

Done.

I headed to the Vet a few Saturdays later and was escorted into the booth directly behind home plate. I was a little overwhelmed. Jerry Coleman was a big deal former major leaguer with a very distinctive voice. There was no mistaking whose hand I was shaking. He didn’t pass unnoticed in a baseball stadium.

The Padres took an early lead, but between innings Coleman explained how the Phillies looked like they’d figured out the Padres pitcher, who was beginning to tire. I saw none of this, but nodded anyway.

Next inning the Phillies blew it open! The Padres pitcher was chased, just as Coleman predicted and when he predicted it.

Both Jerry Coleman and his broadcast partner, Dave Campbell, were gracious that afternoon. It was my own personal reality show to take in and remember.

Over 35 years later, I still remember. It still makes me smile. I am one of many who will not forget Jerry Coleman.

Why Am I a Philadelphia Eagles Fan?

They were all professionals. They were all grown-ups. Many already had the responsibility of a family. I paused a moment.

There was a little chatter over on Facebook after the Eagles victory in Dallas. One commenter asked, “How are you an Eagle fan? A kid from NY and live in CT. Shame on you. Lol!” Good question.

I lived in Philadelphia from 1975-80. This was a very important period of my life because it was during those years in Philadelphia I realized I was a grown-up!

Is that how it normally works? Probably not. Most people ease into being grown-ups. Not me.

I had my cathartic moment at a poker table full of friends. We were at Louie and Gloria Wuhl’s house in Cherry Hill playing our usual Thursday night game. It was just a bunch of guys having fun. Poker was necessary, but secondary. It was an incredibly good time.

Anyway, one Thursday I looked around at the other people at the table. They were all professionals. They were all grown-ups. Many already had the responsibility of a family.

I paused a moment.

They were treating me as an equal. Therefore I was an equal. If they were adults… holy crap I was too!

Seriously, it all came to me at the poker table at Lou and Gloria’s house.

Since that moment Philadelphia has taken on more importance than just the nearly five years I spent there would imply.

During my time in Philadelphia I was invited to attend an Eagles game. My friend Marlene’s father Frank had a bunch of seasons tickets. He didn’t want to lose them, but the Eagles sucked and not many people wanted go.

Marlene and I drove to the Vet in my little Triumph Spitfire. It was one of those days that still felt like summer though the calendar showed fall. The Sun was shining. I remember puffy clouds overhead.

We climbed the ramps at Veterans Stadium to Section 614 (around the 30 yard line, but on the shady side of the field). As we passed from the concession area to the seats I looked down. An American Flag was being held aloft by a small army of people. It covered the entire field! A chill went up my spine.

Though the Eagles went on to lose that game I became hooked!

Frank sold me two of his seats and I began to attend religiously, staying the entire game no matter what the weather or score. Trust me, both were often ugly.

Here’s the funny thing. Today a stadium is probably the last place I’d want to go to see a game. The view is better at home. The bathroom is closer. The food is more reasonably priced. Helaine can turn the sound down if things aren’t going right.

I’m still an Eagles fan!

Cold Weather Refresher Course

As anticipated, I was outside for the Fantasy of Lights. It’s actually very nice, even though I’ve done the same basic live shot for 11 or 12 years.

Students from Nathan Hale School sing Christmas carols (and for some reason The Lion Sleeps Tonight). I introduce some of the people who paid for the displays. We light the lights. This year Santa showed up!

It’s fun.

Weatherwise, it was better this year because we weren’t right next to the beach. Just a few blocks inland, with the wind blocked by the trees, was much more comfortable… sort of.

I bundled up. My coat was winter weight. I wore a new pair of gloves. What I forgot was heavy shoes! That was my undoing.

It’s impossible to realize how cold you can get, through your feet. It doesn’t happen immediately, but I was there close to two hours.

Actually, the coldest I can ever remember being is at a football game at Veterans Stadium in Philadelphia. My feet rested on concrete for four quarters. The cold seemed to radiate from my feet to the rest of my body.

The stranger part is how long your feet remind you of the cold. Here it is four hours later and I still feel it in my feet. I wish I would have worn heavy soles and white socks.

Maybe next year I’ll be wiser. Meanwhile, I’m that much more prepared for winter… and dreading every moment.