UPCOMING EVENTS

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Pointless Nostalgia Pt. 2: The 1988 NBC Spring Training Preview

Before we go on to the post itself, I'd like to share a recent discovery. Whilst reading Yard Work, one of my favorite baseball sites in the History Of Ever, I took a gander at the links. And wouldn't you know it, this here site is linked to. I feel like someone referenced me on The Daily Show or something. I'm seriously, unironically flattered.

Anywhoo, if you've never read Yard Work, check it on out. The hilarity has resumed in full swing now that spring training is here. But most important of all: Pay Rickey.

Now, against my better judgment and the advice of my wife and lawyers, I forge ahead with Clips Ahoy! Why? Because I have a tiny sentimental hard-on for baseball footage from my youth. And because I like getting threatening email from corporate counsels.

Today's clips come from the same VHS tape referenced in my last post. It's another preview of the 1988 baseball season, this time done by NBC Sports. Once upon a time, NBC actually covered baseball. If you remember the NBC Game Of The Week, they had legendary broadcasters like Vin Scully and Marv Albert, along with inoffensive color guys like Joe Garagiola and Tony Kubek. And amazingly, unlike Fox and ESPN, they often showed games that didn't involve the Yankees or Red Sox. They also employed Bob Costas, but nobody's perfect.

The more I remember the NBC Game Of The Week, the more I am enraged at the current state of national baseball broadcasts. NBC's production was understated and just let the game speak for itself. Granted, when you have a voice like Vin Scully's, you can carry 9 innings with little adornment. Plus, graphic technology being in its infancy, you couldn't do a fraction of the things that you can do now.

But thinking about the current state of video-computer trickery, I'm reminded of a Patton Oswalt routine: just because science can do something doesn't mean it should. ("We've made cancer airborne and contagious--you're welcome!") Fox Sports' baseball coverage is almost unwatchable, with all the stupid exploding graphics, robotic pitchers and talking baseballs. Not to mention the endless shots of fans in the stands, which some idiot in Fox's production department thinks the viewer at home loves to look at. If I wanna see some maniac in face paint, I'll go to the Ren Fair.

And I haven't even mentioned Joe Buck and Tim McCarver. Sweet great screaming Jebus H. Christ on a pogo stick, they are horrible. There are no adjectives in English to describe what they do to the game of baseball. I'd need one of those compound German words to sufficiently capture their hideousness. Something that would combine "fingers on chalkboard", "trying to pass a kidney stone" and "small ball". I really think they both hate the game, and are trying to destroy it through their putrid play-by-play "abilities".

I would add a caveat here if I knew anyone who enjoyed them, like "I know some people who don't think they're the devil incarnate". But I've never met, heard or read anyone who enjoys baseball--in person, online, calling in to a sports talk radio show, overheard in a restaurant--who likes them. The emotions they invoke amongst the public range from "hatred" to "seething blood-boiling murderous rage". Why would Fox employ people whose popularity lies somewhere between Pol Pot and ebola? I am honestly baffled. Please help me understand, people. Together we shall heal.

Production-wise, ESPN's coverage is decent. They use some interesting camera angles, and their graphics are relatively unobtrusive. Unfortunately, they continue to use Joe Morgan as a color commentator. This is a problem, because as good of a player Joe was for the Big Red Machine, he is that bad of a broadcaster times a factor of about a thousand.

Joe can't let an at-bat go by without noting how much he hates Billy Beane and "Moneyball," while also betraying an utter misunderstanding of the book and the principles espoused therein. (Ironically, his high career on-base percentage would have made him an ideal "Moneyball" player.) Plus, I think he might be retarded. But this topic is explored more extensively and hilariously elsewhere.

Long story short, the state of today's national baseball coverage makes one long for the simpler days of NBC's Game Of The Week, as exemplified by this promo.

Now, onto the preview itself. In this clip, Marv Albert waxes poetic about America's Passtime while grown men stretch in polyester. This is immediately followed by the opening credits. When I was a kid, music associated with baseball was limited to five songs, usually played during a bumper as the broadcast went to commercial between innings. These songs were:

* "Centerfield" by John Fogarty
* "Glory Days" by Bruce Springsteen
* "Walk Of Life" by Dire Straits
* "I.G.Y." or "New Fronteir" by Donald Fagen

All of these songs are vaguely related to baseball, except for the Donald Fagen songs which just sound kinda cheery (but like all of his songs are lyrically dark or ironic). In any case, I didn't hear songs like the one you're about to hear.

Yup, that's "Just Like Heaven" by The Cure. The Cure, as in Robert Smith. The Cure, as in One Of The Most Depressing Bands To Ever Walk The Face Of The Earth. "Just Like Heaven" is one of their happier-sounding songs, and it was a minor hit in the States not too long before this special aired. BUT IT'S THE CURE. What, did the estate of Ian Curtis charge too much for "Love Will Tear Us Apart"? Did Bauhaus forbid the use of "Bela Lugosi's Dead"?

I wish I could tell you I was hip enough to recognize this tune when the special first aired. But I'm pretty sure I was still in my Weird Al phase at age 10, so "Kiss Me Kiss Me Kiss Me" wasn't on my turntable back then. It was only when I rediscovered this tape last year that my mind was officially blown. This isn't as bad as when I found out Fox used "Waiting Room" during a pregame segment of last year's NLCS, but it rivals the Fugazi song for Inappropriateness in the Context of Sports.

Each member of the NBC Sports team gets a short segment to give us their own two cents on the upcoming season. Bob Costas adds his typical imperiousness. Joe Garagiola and Tony Kubek throw in the Ex-Player Perspective. Marv Albert has a few bombastic words. And then there's Vin Scully. Vin's been around the block. He's called games since working for the Brooklyn Dodgers in the 1950s. So his comments are, in essence, Don't piss on Scully's leg and tell him it's raining.

Going into spring training, the Twins were the reigning world champs. Being from the small market of Minneapolis, they didn't have many endorsement opportunities. However, as Bert Blyleven points out here, there were other advantages to owning some World Series bling.

As in the TWIB preview (which MLB refuses to let me share with you because THEY'RE AFRAID OF THE TRUTH), players are given a little Presidential year grilling. NBC's question is much more diplomatic, however: if you ran for presidnet, who would you want for your running mate? Even given this mild query, Dave Winfield seems terrified to answer for fear of offending anyone. That may be due to his already ruffling Steinbrenner's feathers that winter, as you'll see below.

You ever see something from your youth, something that you once loved that makes you cringe now? Because you know you used to adore it, and the full light of adulthood has revealed its true lameness to you. So no matter how cool you think you are now, you have to concede that you were once lame.

That's how I feel about this next clip. It's a folk singer named Dick McCormick who gives us a little "We Didn't Start The Fire" about the 1987 season. At age 10, I thought this was the height of sophisticated humor. I loved it, to the point where I actually tried to transcribe it, because for some reason its majesty deserved to be written down for posterity. I've said it on this site many times, and I'm sure I'll say it many times more: I'm a dork. I have no defense.

If you're confused as to why that clip cuts short at "Jeff Leonard", as if he was the only person who had an awesome season in 1987, it's because my videotape was accidentally overdubbed at that point. I can only guess that someone left the tape in the VCR and accidentally hit the "record" button on the remote. That makes sense. What doesn't make sense is what was accidentally taped. It's...well, just see for yourself.

Let's just move on, shall we?

Here's a brief examination of the then-broiling Mets/Cardinals rivalry. (I would say that rivalry has begun anew, if I didn't think the Cardinals are poised to be horrible this year.) When I posted a similar clip last week, my brother was amazed that so much time was being spent on the return of Bob Horner, a slightly-better-than-average hitter who got hurt with Ken Griffey-like frequency. NBC gives the Curly One even more face time, amazingly, pointing to him as St. Louis's only hope for the season (1988 wasn't a very good year for the Cards, in case that wasn't obvious).

Even crazier, when the subject of Whitey Herzog's genius is discussed, one person who vociferously chimes in is Keith Hernandez. By all accounts, Herzog hated Mex and was largely responsible for him getting traded to the Mets for virtually nothing (well, that and Keith's coke habit). Can you imagine if, say, Alex Rodriguez spoke about Lou Piniella's managing prowess on some preseason special? You wouldn't hear about anything else on sports radio for the next three months.

Mets skipper Davey Johnson looks as if he's ready to collapse from exhaustion, which he may have been at this point. The man won more games than any other manager in team history, and yet his job was in constant jeopardy for some reason. You figure it out.

Now on to the Yankees. Steinbrenner had just hired Billy Martin for his fifth and final tour of duty as manager. The reunion lasted all of two months. A year later, he was dead, making some of Martin's comments in this segment prescient and eerie. Billy Martin was such a sad figure--a brilliant baseball mind that won everywhere he went, yet felled by his propensity to drink like a fish and punch people (not necessarily in that order). It's the stuff of Greek tragedy, but with more scotch.

The Yanks' panties were also in a knot, apparently, due to some tell-all book by Dave Winfield that was due out in a matter of weeks. According to this NY Times review, though, Winfield's tome was more salacious for its hints of Dave's relationships with such stars as Tina Turner and Martina Navratilova. Were people once that naïve? I mean, I'm pretty sure than even I knew Martina was a lesbian in 1988, and I was 10 years old. Maybe Dave just wanted us to think he was so manly he could "convert" a Wimbledon champ.

Here are the Oakland A's, who everyone has picked to win the World Series. Watching this segment now, I see a suspiciously buff Jose Canseco stand next to a still slender Mark McGwire, and I can almost hear the wheels turning in his head--How do I get this kid hooked? Watching this is like confronting the nexus of baseball's future 'roid explosion, right before it happened. It reminds me of that scene in "And The Band Played On," when they finally find the swingin' flight attendant who unwittingly spread HIV all over the country, oblivious to the destruction his partying has wrought.

I realize I just compared steroids in baseball to the outbreak of the AIDS epidemic. I'll just give you the clip, step aside and be quiet for a moment.

Here's folk singer Dick McCormick with another folksy tune. This one tells us that the more things change, the more they stay the same. Except that sometimes they really do change. Or something.

Finally, there's the requisite laugh reel to take us out. Nothing too hilarious here, although now that Kirby Puckett has passed away, watching him take part in an insanely fast game of rock paper scissors is almost poignant.

Bonus Commercials: There's nothing particularly memorable about this Mercury ad, either the ad itself or the car it advertises. That's pretty much my point: I can't imagine getting jazzed to buy this as a brand new car. Watching these old tapes, I'm struck by how ugly and imagination-free car design was in the 1980s. Plus, they show this compact scooting down a beach just shy of the crashing surf. I'm pretty sure if you even brought this thing within three miles of the ocean, every moving part of the engine block would clog up with sand.

This is one example of an Excedrin campaign that ran for approximately 8000 years.

Posted 02.21.07 11:05pm * Permalink

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