Terry and I both contracted Covid back in January 2021 and were down and out for a solid week. I was kind of hoping that would be my one and only experience with it.
But the virus was nice enough to mutate and hit me again last month. And once again, it took a solid week (and then some) for me to come back. This time, for good measure, I also experienced the loss of taste and smell I had somehow avoided with the first go-round.
Everyone who gets Covid seems to have somewhat different experiences. For me, both times it has been a combination of a nasty head cold with flu-like symptoms that have included fever/chills and a general feeling of extreme "blah," if you know what I mean.
Sickness of any type tries my patience. I simply don't have time for illness, which is why, by day #3 of Covid the Sequel, I was antsy and annoyed. I had work to do. I was missing PA announcing gigs and the income that goes with them. I got tired just cleaning a single toilet, let alone an entire bathroom.
When I get sick, I don't become self-pitying so much as bitter and angry. I HAVE NO TIME FOR THIS.
Speaking of PA announcing, the previous weekend's assignments are likely where I picked up this latest round of Covid. That Friday I had announced a Wickliffe football game, and the next day I did both college volleyball at Cleveland State University and a band festival in the nearby town of Solon.
At some point during one of those events, some attendee unknowingly shared the virus with me. I'm all for sharing, but you can keep this particular gift to yourself, Patient Zero.
I will go way out on a limb to give you this expert medical opinion: Covid sucks. Do not get it.
I've subjected blog readers to this image before, but it's the only one I have of me announcing. So...here's a picture of my big gaping mouth. Please enjoy.
I look forward to this time of year because it's the beginning of announcing season, which for me means a series of public address (PA) engagements at a range of high school (and some college) athletic events.
I enjoy every one of these games/matches, but unless things turn around, I'm not sure the people there will enjoy having me.
In sum, I had a rough announcing preseason. That "preseason" consisted of announcing a recent Miracle League of Lake County game (July 15), the Wickliffe Swing Band's home-from-band-camp performance (July 21), and the Wickliffe High School alumni soccer game (August 4).
I was, to say the least, rusty in every case. I flubbed words, forgot others, and misidentified people. These aren't professional sports or anything, but still, I really have to do better.
I'm not even sure what happened. When I left off with PA announcing back in the winter/spring, I felt I was at the top of my game. I hated for the season to end because everything seemed to be clicking.
Now, months later, I'm struggling a little. It's like I forgot how to speak my native language.
I'm sure it was just a case of being out of practice, but it is a little worrisome with 63 announcing gigs on my calendar over the next 61 days.
I get a lot of offers for PA work this time of year, mostly because I show up when I say I'm going to show up. Athletic directors and college game day operations people are constantly challenged to find reliable people to work their events, so if you're somewhat dependable, you'll get work.
By the way, those 63 gigs in 61 days include 31 soccer games, 12 band performances, 11 volleyball matches (two at the collegiate level), six football games, two more Miracle League games, and a Meet the Teams event for my friends at Riverside High School.
This coming Saturday alone I'll do a JV football game at 10am, Miracle League games at 3 and 4pm, and a girls soccer game at 7pm.
Not mentioned are the last-minute substitute engagements of the kind working announcers are called to do all the time, or an additional regular-season football game outside of the 61-day time period, along with the playoff games I'll work beyond all of that.
Again, I'm not announcing at Yankee Stadium, but everyone wants to do a good job, especially when it's an activity you really enjoy.
I choose to believe I'm going to quickly work my way back into form. The alternatives (that I'm suddenly too old or experiencing some sort of cognitive decline) are too unpleasant to consider.
Plus, I spent a lot of money on this announcing equipment. I've got at least 15 more years before this stuff starts paying for itself.
This isn’t a post about my side hustle of sports public address (PA) announcing, but I’m going to use announcing as an example of something I’ve found to be true both personally and professionally.
By way of context, I do a lot of sports PA work in the Cleveland area. And by “sports PA work,” I mean the voice you hear in high school, college or professional gyms, arenas and stadiums that tells you the starting lineups, who scored, who committed fouls, etc.
In other words, it’s the man/woman speaking over the public address system and not, for example, the person doing play-by-play online or over the radio, though I have done some of that.
I have full-time announcing gigs at three different high schools and regularly sub in at two colleges and a handful of other institutions. I’ve announced almost every sport you can, from football, soccer, hockey and volleyball to baseball, softball, basketball and lacrosse. It’s a lot of fun, and a chunk of the money I earn funds an annual scholarship given to a graduating senior from Wickliffe High School.
Altogether, I probably do about 100 events each year.
Until a decade ago, I had no idea I possessed any talent at all for this. But – and I say this with genuine humility, because I am far from the very best person you’ll ever hear on the mic – it turns out I’m pretty good at it. Through the accidents of physiology and general brain chemistry, I have a decent PA voice, and my natural rhythm and phrasing are such that I sound somewhat professional.
Again, I’m far from being a true pro, but at the local high school level, I’m likely one of the better PA guys you’re going to run across. This is not bragging, it’s just a general observation.
So here’s where the problem lies.
My philosophy has always been that the announcer should be much like an offensive lineman in football: If he/she does their job well, you hardly know they’re there. It can be thrilling, but obviously the athletes on the field or court are why everyone comes. Absolutely no one buys a ticket to hear you talk.
Still, people in general tend to be very nice, so I get a lot of compliments on my PA work. (NOTE: I suspect you don’t necessarily have to be a great announcer to get people to say good things about you, by the way. Often, it’s more about the fact that they hear you over and over at every game or match, and in their mind your voice becomes associated with happy memories of watching their child, grandchild, niece/nephew, friend, etc. play a sport, no matter how good you actually are.)
Anyway, having done this for a number of years, I’ve received a pretty long list of compliments, all of which are very gratefully received. I personally think I’m probably average to a bit above average at the PA thing and no more, but as I said, the people I come across in the course of this work can be effusive in their praise.
The result is that, no matter how humble you try to be, hearing how great you are at something can leave you less motivated to get better at it. There’s a part of your brain that says you can put it in cruise control because, hey, you’re a star, baby!
Sometimes I find myself doing less pregame preparation than I used to because, really, who needs prep when you’re already a pro?
This is both silly and dangerous. If I give myself credit for anything when it comes to PA work, it’s commitment to detail and preparation. I get confirmation on the pronunciation of every name on the roster, including the seemingly obvious ones like “John Smith.” I try and memorize names and uniform numbers so I can quickly deliver the right information. I write down all player substitutions before announcing them because I want them to be 100% accurate. The athletes deserve at least that much from the PA guy.
Once you start believing your own hype – even if it’s just a string of nice words from well-meaning friends and acquaintances – you stop getting better. And in most cases, you regress.
The parallels to almost anything else in your life, at work or at home, are probably obvious. We should be our own worst critics, though I don’t mean that in an unhealthy way. I’m not talking about putting yourself down, but rather continually asking how you can be a better spouse, parent, friend, professional, hobbyist, etc.
It's what business professionals often refer to as "continuous improvement."
No matter what compliments you're paid or which honors or awards you receive, don’t ever fall into the trap of reading your own press clippings (so to speak).
Want to know the best thing that has happened to me recently? Something that, at first, I didn’t think was all that great? It was auditioning for and not getting the PA role for a local lower-level professional sports team. I gave it my best shot, but it wasn’t good enough.
I won’t lie, at first it stung. But it made me go back and reevaluate not just how I did in the actual audition, but in general where I am in terms of my delivery, prep and general approach to PA work. I found some areas where I’ve been slacking off, so I’m working to correct them such that my overall performance continues to improve, even if slowly and incrementally.
We all love getting a “great job” every once in a while, but in the long run, we probably benefit a little more from “thanks but no thanks” and “hey, let’s work on this.”
The high school sports season has kicked off here in Northeast Ohio, though I generally refer to it as "announcing season."
I have picked up a variety of public address announcing gigs these last few years, mostly through Wickliffe High School. It all started with the Wickliffe Swing Band, whose announcer I became back in 2014 (making this the start of my eighth season on the mic for this great institution). In subsequent years I've taken on Blue Devil boys and girls soccer, volleyball, and boys and girls basketball.
All of that, in turn, has led to separate engagements announcing for the Mentor Ice Breakers hockey team; Lake Erie College; University School; Perry, Mayfield, and Riverside high schools; and even a Division I men's college basketball game for Cleveland State University.
I've often said that PA announcers are much like football linemen: In ideal circumstances, you don't even realize they're there. Our job as announcers is to enhance the experience for both fans and players, all while staying out of the way and melting into the background.
The kids are and always will be the show. Just as no one comes to the ballpark to watch an umpire call balls and strikes, no one buys a ticket to hear the guy talking over the public address system.
That doesn't mean we don't do our jobs without enthusiasm. These kids who work so hard on their chosen sports deserve robust introductions and verbal recognition of their achievements. The trick is to balance energy with restraint.
The best I've ever seen and heard doing that was the late Ray Milavec, who taught, coached, and announced at Wickliffe for decades before passing away in 2016. He was a master at the craft, if you want to call it that.
Between now and mid-October, if all goes as planned, I will have announced something on the order of 40 total volleyball matches and soccer games, not to mention halftime band performances and miscellaneous band festivals. I also run the scoreboard for girls soccer.
And I can't tell you what a privilege it is to do all of it. I get a little sad when fall sports end, but six or so weeks later I'm back at it doing basketball, which makes for a very fun winter.
Some people collect stamps. I strive to pronounce kids' names correctly into a microphone. To each his own.
If you have a Twitter account, you know you don't have much space to describe yourself in that little bio box. We're allotted 160 characters to tell our life stories to the world, so generally speaking, whatever someone puts there is probably pretty important to them.
Nearly half the characters in my Twitter bio are taken up by this phrase: "PA announcer for
@WickliffeHS band, soccer, volleyball and hoops."
For the last few years, I've had the golden opportunity to be on the microphone for all of those activities at my alma mater, Wickliffe High School. This past fall was my sixth as the Wickliffe Swing Band announcer, while I'm in the midst of my third season as the PA voice for the four sports (girl basketball, boys basketball, girls soccer, and volleyball).
Much like offensive linemen and U.S. vice presidents, public address announcers are doing their job when you forget they're there. The less we're noticed, the better.
I've been doing it just long enough to know the most important thing about sports PA announcing, and that is this: You are not the show. You are not the reason people came to the field/gym that day. You are merely there to amplify the efforts of those young athletes and ensure that those in the stands understand what is happening. Anything else is showboating.
I'm increasingly coming to understand that the less I say, the better.
Because, you know, the temptation once someone puts a live mic in your hand is to over-talk. When you do that, it's just a constant stream of words the crowd will soon tune out.
Remember: Amplify and clarify. If you're thinking of saying something that doesn't accomplish one or both of those things, you probably shouldn't say it. Silence really is sometimes golden.
I love PA announcing. I absolutely love it. And I'm still learning how to do it. Cadence, inflection, flow, volume, distance from the mic. Those are all things at which I want to improve, and all things the best announcers do well almost instinctively.
The best PA announcer I've ever come across was Ray Milavec. Mr. Milavec was not only one of my 10th grade English teachers, but also a coach, athletic director, and PA guy at Wickliffe. He was at one time the PA voice of the NBA's Cleveland Cavaliers, and after retirement served a number of seasons in the same capacity with the minor-league baseball Lake County Captains.
One time, during the first football game of my senior year, Mr. Milavec made sure the announcers from the local cable access TV station said my name correctly on air, and even told them that I also ran track. He didn't have to do that, but he did, because he believed in making sure student-athletes got the credit he thought they deserved.
Not that you have to do this, but if you fast-forward to the 2:03:39 mark of this video, you can hear the results of Mr. Milavec's efforts on my behalf:
Mr. Milavec was a legend. This is off-topic, but I'm starting a scholarship for Wickliffe High School students in his memory (he died of stomach cancer a few years ago). More details on that in early 2020.
Anyway, my point is, while I love PA announcing, and while I believe I have a certain natural ability to do it, I am far from expert. It is a craft like anything else, and every game I try and get a little better at it.
One of the challenges for me comes when I announce basketball. I don't like to announce a foul until I see the ref confirm the player on whom the foul is called, even when it's obvious to me and everyone else who committed the infraction.
But by waiting for it to be official, I also lose valuable seconds during which I'm supposed to announce who committed the foul, how many fouls that person has in the game, what number team foul it is, who's shooting free throws, and how many shots they're taking.
All of that is supposed to happen before the ref hands the shooter the ball, because once the ball is in the shooter's grasp, my instructions are to be quiet. You don't want to distract someone trying sink a free throw in front of hundreds of people in a hot gym.
Sometimes I do it all on time, sometimes I have to cut myself off before relaying all the details, and sometimes I have to wait until after the shot to finish announcing the particulars. (And sometimes, admittedly, I am still talking when the shooter has the ball.)
It's an art as much as it is a science.
There's also the matter of how enthusiastically you announce the accomplishments of the home team vs. how enthusiastically you do it for the visitors.
Many announcers will scream about their own school and sound like they're announcing the death of a family member when a visiting athlete scores.
At the professional level, I get it. That's OK. But in scholastic sports? I don't agree with it. Yes, I will announce a Wickliffe kid louder than a visiting kid, but the difference is relatively slight. When it comes to 15-, 16-, and 17-year-old athletes, I think they all deserve recognition, no matter what color jersey they're wearing.
Like I said, it's an art. Few hard-and-fast rules, but plenty of ways to screw it up.
Right now, the only Wickliffe sports I don't announce are football and boys soccer. Those are handled by Gary Willis, a veteran announcer from whom I've learned quite a bit in terms of preparation and other small tricks of the trade. Gary is a great guy and longtime Wickliffe sports booster, so as far as I'm concerned, he can keep doing those two sports as long as he wants. I'll sub for him whenever he's unavailable, but he has the right to keep doing it for many more years. He has earned that.
Still, I won't lie: Someday I want to add football and boys soccer to my resume, at which point, yes, I'll have the Wickliffe PA announcing monopoly. I met a guy from Beachwood who does that (all sports AND the band), and he is quite frankly my hero.
But I think my three-point shot call is a little better than his. Just saying.
