Well, I whiffed up and missed today’s “State of the League” conference call with Commisioner David Baker (right), because I haven’t learned my time zones. ET after the numbers means you go BACK AN HOUR, as it turns out. Soooooo, I failed those of you wondering if he would be on quaaludes like Darren Arbet or if he’d reminisce about the Great Depression like Doug Kay. I hope there’ll be a transcript of Baker’s call posted somewhere, and I hope that there will never be any evidence of yesterday’s call posted anywhere. I hope the tapes were destroyed, and the warehouse where the backups were kept burned, and the Internet scourged.
For all of you burgeoning journalists out there, a free tip: don’t waste 45-50 seconds explaining why you’re allowed to ask a question. If you must explain yourself – perhaps you’ve had a small stroke, and your reasoning skills aren’t up to snuff – don’t abruptly stop explaining yourself, only to then launch into the background to why you want to ask the question. Just ask the question. On the bright side, I got that out of my system. My falsetto also got a good workout, as my voice kept sliding higher and higher as I realized I was, journalistically speaking, in flames. Some woman screamed “MY BABY!” and over the crackling, you could hear an infant screaming. Then the building was struck by a dirigible. And the dirigible set upon by a dragon. And the dragon struck by lightning. And then they built a kerosene refinery on top of the rubble, and built the Oily Rag Depository next door. You know, metaphorically speaking.
At least Coach Kay didn’t tell me to get off of his call, or reach through the phone lines and slap me. He was actually much nicer to me and my rambling than he was to the guy who asked if he was having fun.