Pete Van Wieren died today. He was 69 years old and he is one of the three formative voices that raised me on the game that I love.....the game of baseball as the voice of the Atlanta Braves.
Pete, Skip Caray and Ernie Johnson Sr. were the three major voices of the Braves from the 70's until the 2000's. As I was growing up listening and watching to some AWFUL Braves teams in the late 70's and 80's....those three men rotated between radio and TV during each game. Of the three, I can honestly say that Pete was my favorite. Skip was the comedian and the son of a famous broadcaster. Ernie was the old storyteller who had played in the old days. Pete was your next door neighbor who got called in to do a game. Pete was a teacher who really loved the game and knew all the stats. Pete was your co-worker who would talk about the WITH you....not talk down to you or talk around you. Pete was the Professor....a true professional.
Tonight, as the Braves play the San Diego Padres....Skip Caray and Joe Simpson are spending the whole game talking to different players, announcers, team executives and others about Pete. They are telling stories, talking about family, card games on the bus, eccentricities, and all kinds of other things.
This is why I love baseball......Baseball is a game that lives life with you. Baseball is a game that mirrors life and it is designed to watch while you live your life, talking to friends and telling stories. Football is a war. Basketball is a concert indoors. NASCAR is a vacation destination. But baseball is life. Baseball is the only game that you could put the game into the background while two guys tell stories about their dad and their mentor who have passed away. Joe Simpson lovingly told people that if they don't like what they're about to do then they could "bite me." I'm betting no one turned the channel. We want to hear the stories. We want to enjoy the memories. We want to laugh. We allow ourselves to tear up. And we WATCH THE GAME OF LIFE AS THE GAME OF BASEBALL.
I'll miss you Pete.....we'll be back with scores and highlights right after this.
Saturday, August 2, 2014
Friday, July 11, 2014
To be the man.....John Laseter and Ric Flair
Professional Wrestling is a cultural enigma......Whenever professional wrestling comes up in my life I always refer to Jerry Seinfeld's philosophical comments on the matter. The most amazing thing to think about is if it didn't exist already.....can you imagine the sales pitch to try and make it become a reality? Seinfeld talks about the pitchman saying, "It'll be great....the guys will be huge but they'll wear these tiny bathing suits. It'll look violent, but they won't really be hitting each other." I always get laughs when I talk about it....and then the conversation will turn to memories of matches on TV, matches at the armory in town, famous one liners, crazy storylines or old friends hanging out around the enigma of professional wrestling.
JOHN LASETER - A wonderful and beautiful enigma in my life passed away earlier this week. I went to his funeral to hug his wife, son and daughter. We laughed and cried......and then we talked about wrestling. Because wrestling was the enigmatic part of our lives that raised this man from just another adult in my life to a Cheshire-grinning sage who stood at a distance, but truly impressed my heart.
John Laseter had a son and a daughter - Jenni and Jay. We attended the same church growing up. My dad was the minister of music and John was an adult Sunday School teacher and a "youth group father" who I treated the way I treated most adults.....the way Charlton Heston told me to at the end of Planet of the Apes. Jenni and I were civil and our biggest interaction came when I met a friend of hers who became my first serious girlfriend. Jay was a few years behind me and I barely noticed him.....but the beautiful enigma hadn't crept to the surface yet.
My first real interaction with John Laseter came AFTER I graduated from high school. He probably had spoken to me many times, but this is when the enigma first surfaced. I had just become a youth sponsor....helping the youth ministry by being a chaperone, game leader, etc. John came up to me in the church hallway and said, "Steven! I've got a great event you need to do with the youth....You need to take the youth down to see the RASSLIN' MATCHES!"................................................................
After the long pause I think I said, "What?!?!?!" I said this because I couldn't believe an adult Sunday School teacher (who may have been an elder at the time too) was saying what I think he was saying. I was also taken aback wondering if he knew that I watched wrestling and making fun or could it be this man knew about wrestling? He kept pestering me almost weekly to "Take those teenagers down to see the RASSLIN' MATCHES!" There were offers to drive, offers to get pastoral approval, and other offers. What also came out of these weekly youth ministry hallway advisory committee meetings was a growing awareness that John Laseter was a real wrestling fan. I never could tell if he was completely serious or completely kidding (which I learned over time was the modus operandi of John Laseter....never too serious and never too sarcastic....almost always a "just right" position to create mischief and learning.)
What also happened at these exchanges was that John was building a relationship with me. After berating me to take the teens down to Center Stage to see WCW, there was always a question about my life, my schooling, my girlfriend, or my job. Slowly I began to ask him about his job (John was the first adult to tell me he hated his job....mainly because he was ready to retire. "One day closer" was a reply I remember), his family and his vacation plans. We were sharing life together. Any advice he dispensed was usually a nugget of truth buried in a cynical joke said with that Cheshire grin smile. In short - John Laseter was talking to me differently from most adults - he was talking to me like a peer - and I will always be grateful for that.
Then the enigma turned beautiful. John's son Jay was now 15-16 years old. Jay was nowhere near a relationship with God. Jay and I had both grown up in wonderful homes, with wonderful parents who were leaders in church and who gave us an opportunity to go to Christian schools......and we went in OPPOSITE DIRECTIONS....at least on the surface. I had always been "the good kid" in the youth group. Jay had developed a reputation as "the rebel" of the youth group. I had spoken in chapel and Jay would skip chapel to be in detention.
I can't remember if Jay and I talked about wrestling beforehand or if it happened when I came over, but John Laseter approached me one more time with a personal request. We had never gotten the kids down to see the RASSLIN' MATCHES, but John invited me over to his house because he and Jay were going to rent the newest wrestling video at Blockbuster (I think it was WCW "Bash at the Beach"). John promised me a mound of pizza, bags upon bags of chips, any soda I could dream of and even some desserts made by Mrs. Laseter. I was shocked when I arrived and saw 3 WHOLE PIZZAS for just the three of us. John was also incredibly excited that there had been two other recent wrestling videos available at the store. John, Jay and I then spent the next six hours watching wrestling, eating way too much food, burping, laughing and building a relationship built on the beautiful enigma that is professional wrestling.
Jay let me in his world because I impressed him with my historical knowledge of wrestling and my old habit of knowing different characters from old wrestling territories (i.e. - Dingo Warrior became Ultimate Warrior, and Vinnie Vegas became Diesel). As we watched the videos John would tell stories about old matches with "15 minutes of head locks complete with one leg drop and a pin." Jay would start a conversation with things like "Did you hear about that new character Undertaker in WWF? He used to be Mean Mark in the WCW..." I would usually try to start a discussion about "Flair vs. Hogan" or "Rock n Roll vs. Midnight Express"? The night would pass way too quickly because we would laugh at the stupidity of the storylines. We would hoot and holler over a new move tried from the top rope ("DID YOU SEE THAT!") We would rewind the best lines of commentary ("Trapezius muscle" from Gorilla, "Flying Tamale" from Bobby Heenan and ANY interview by the Nature Boy). And at the end of the night, when I would drive home......I was closer to John and Jay Laseter then when I got there.
John confessed to me one time that my interaction with Jay while we gorged on wrestling was the "closest thing to church" that Jay had in his life. Again I looked at this wise man and thought, "What?!?!?!?!" We never cracked our Bibles and I never asked Jay about "his walk" or suggested the latest Lucado book. I learned much later in life that John, Jay and I were simply SHARING LIFE. The beautiful enigma of wrestling was used by God and John to help me build a friendship with a wise old man and a young punk who I could ALWAYS talk to anytime and anywhere because we shared a love for the male soap opera of pro wrestling.
We had our wrestling parties a few times a year. We saw many tapes and had many conversations. Almost all of them around wrestling, but there were talks of life, people, school and maybe even a little about the Bible. Out of this male soap opera I developed two good friends. John went to be with his Lord and Savior. I heard about his leadership, his teaching and his military background. Yet to me - John was a laughing, mischievous elder in my church who became my friend and influenced my life very quietly through a loud and obnoxious enigmatic love around wrestling and gluttony.
Thanks John!
JOHN LASETER - A wonderful and beautiful enigma in my life passed away earlier this week. I went to his funeral to hug his wife, son and daughter. We laughed and cried......and then we talked about wrestling. Because wrestling was the enigmatic part of our lives that raised this man from just another adult in my life to a Cheshire-grinning sage who stood at a distance, but truly impressed my heart.
John Laseter had a son and a daughter - Jenni and Jay. We attended the same church growing up. My dad was the minister of music and John was an adult Sunday School teacher and a "youth group father" who I treated the way I treated most adults.....the way Charlton Heston told me to at the end of Planet of the Apes. Jenni and I were civil and our biggest interaction came when I met a friend of hers who became my first serious girlfriend. Jay was a few years behind me and I barely noticed him.....but the beautiful enigma hadn't crept to the surface yet.
My first real interaction with John Laseter came AFTER I graduated from high school. He probably had spoken to me many times, but this is when the enigma first surfaced. I had just become a youth sponsor....helping the youth ministry by being a chaperone, game leader, etc. John came up to me in the church hallway and said, "Steven! I've got a great event you need to do with the youth....You need to take the youth down to see the RASSLIN' MATCHES!"................................................................
After the long pause I think I said, "What?!?!?!" I said this because I couldn't believe an adult Sunday School teacher (who may have been an elder at the time too) was saying what I think he was saying. I was also taken aback wondering if he knew that I watched wrestling and making fun or could it be this man knew about wrestling? He kept pestering me almost weekly to "Take those teenagers down to see the RASSLIN' MATCHES!" There were offers to drive, offers to get pastoral approval, and other offers. What also came out of these weekly youth ministry hallway advisory committee meetings was a growing awareness that John Laseter was a real wrestling fan. I never could tell if he was completely serious or completely kidding (which I learned over time was the modus operandi of John Laseter....never too serious and never too sarcastic....almost always a "just right" position to create mischief and learning.)
What also happened at these exchanges was that John was building a relationship with me. After berating me to take the teens down to Center Stage to see WCW, there was always a question about my life, my schooling, my girlfriend, or my job. Slowly I began to ask him about his job (John was the first adult to tell me he hated his job....mainly because he was ready to retire. "One day closer" was a reply I remember), his family and his vacation plans. We were sharing life together. Any advice he dispensed was usually a nugget of truth buried in a cynical joke said with that Cheshire grin smile. In short - John Laseter was talking to me differently from most adults - he was talking to me like a peer - and I will always be grateful for that.
Then the enigma turned beautiful. John's son Jay was now 15-16 years old. Jay was nowhere near a relationship with God. Jay and I had both grown up in wonderful homes, with wonderful parents who were leaders in church and who gave us an opportunity to go to Christian schools......and we went in OPPOSITE DIRECTIONS....at least on the surface. I had always been "the good kid" in the youth group. Jay had developed a reputation as "the rebel" of the youth group. I had spoken in chapel and Jay would skip chapel to be in detention.
I can't remember if Jay and I talked about wrestling beforehand or if it happened when I came over, but John Laseter approached me one more time with a personal request. We had never gotten the kids down to see the RASSLIN' MATCHES, but John invited me over to his house because he and Jay were going to rent the newest wrestling video at Blockbuster (I think it was WCW "Bash at the Beach"). John promised me a mound of pizza, bags upon bags of chips, any soda I could dream of and even some desserts made by Mrs. Laseter. I was shocked when I arrived and saw 3 WHOLE PIZZAS for just the three of us. John was also incredibly excited that there had been two other recent wrestling videos available at the store. John, Jay and I then spent the next six hours watching wrestling, eating way too much food, burping, laughing and building a relationship built on the beautiful enigma that is professional wrestling.
Jay let me in his world because I impressed him with my historical knowledge of wrestling and my old habit of knowing different characters from old wrestling territories (i.e. - Dingo Warrior became Ultimate Warrior, and Vinnie Vegas became Diesel). As we watched the videos John would tell stories about old matches with "15 minutes of head locks complete with one leg drop and a pin." Jay would start a conversation with things like "Did you hear about that new character Undertaker in WWF? He used to be Mean Mark in the WCW..." I would usually try to start a discussion about "Flair vs. Hogan" or "Rock n Roll vs. Midnight Express"? The night would pass way too quickly because we would laugh at the stupidity of the storylines. We would hoot and holler over a new move tried from the top rope ("DID YOU SEE THAT!") We would rewind the best lines of commentary ("Trapezius muscle" from Gorilla, "Flying Tamale" from Bobby Heenan and ANY interview by the Nature Boy). And at the end of the night, when I would drive home......I was closer to John and Jay Laseter then when I got there.
John confessed to me one time that my interaction with Jay while we gorged on wrestling was the "closest thing to church" that Jay had in his life. Again I looked at this wise man and thought, "What?!?!?!?!" We never cracked our Bibles and I never asked Jay about "his walk" or suggested the latest Lucado book. I learned much later in life that John, Jay and I were simply SHARING LIFE. The beautiful enigma of wrestling was used by God and John to help me build a friendship with a wise old man and a young punk who I could ALWAYS talk to anytime and anywhere because we shared a love for the male soap opera of pro wrestling.
We had our wrestling parties a few times a year. We saw many tapes and had many conversations. Almost all of them around wrestling, but there were talks of life, people, school and maybe even a little about the Bible. Out of this male soap opera I developed two good friends. John went to be with his Lord and Savior. I heard about his leadership, his teaching and his military background. Yet to me - John was a laughing, mischievous elder in my church who became my friend and influenced my life very quietly through a loud and obnoxious enigmatic love around wrestling and gluttony.
Thanks John!
Saturday, June 14, 2014
Today......June 14, 2014....the day before Father's Day......I walked in Gate D and took a tour of Fenway Park.
A big part of my bucket list just got marked off. After seeing MLB stadiums in Atlanta, Arizona, Tampa, St. Louis, New York, Philly, Colorado, Seattle, Milwaukee, Chicago, Pittsburgh and St. Louis.....I finally saw the stadium that started this love affair.
The year was 1981....I was nine years old. I had gotten some Topps baseball cards for Christmas and I was watching the NBC baseball game of the week. I didn't know who Yaz, Rice, Lynn, Duey or Fisk was yet. I had just started playing baseball in a church league so I was probably watching to learn how to better hit and throw. I'm not sure the exact details of how it started.....my best guess is that my grandparents passed their TRUE LOVE for the Sox to me. I was the youngest grandchild and I had lived with my grandparents before I went to school because of having two parents that worked at school. That started a very close relationship with my grandparents. I know the Braves were on the TV a lot, but I'm also sure I heard about the Red Sox while "Bambi and Bampa" read the paper. I'm sure I first heard about Ted Williams losing five years to two wars during this time. I also know that when I started school, whenever my grandparents came for a meal or came to watch me while my parents went out....the talk ALWAYS TURNED TO BASEBALL.
So by the time I was 9 I was starting to become immersed in a game that allows you to dive deep. However, during that game of the week I saw a park that was unique and it belonged to my family. My grandparents talked about New Bedford and my mom talked about Worcester....but along with those stories came stories of Bobby Doerr, Ted Williams, Billy Goodman, and Johnny Pesky. Now that I was seeing the Monster and the Park I connected with the uniqueness of this park. It looked different from ALL OTHER PARKS. Even Wrigley was symmetrical like so many parks. Here was Fenway with its garage door in center field and a right center at 420 feet going all the way down to 302 in the right field corner.
So by 1981 I said, "I'm a Red Sox fan....so I want to see where they play." I never got to go during family trips. We went to Cooperstown and some other ballparks during family vacations (thanks Mom and Dad for feeding my love). We even visited Worcester once, but never made it to a game. After I got married Stacey and I talked about Fenway many times....we almost went once or twice, but something always came up or the finances were a tad too tight. Then kids came and getting the whole family to a game was too hard.
Three years ago we went to a Greenville Drive game and saw a Fenway replica. Then two years ago we started our own tradition of going to visit different baseball parks each year. Chicago was obvious, then Pitt and Philly allowed us to go see Greenville, PA as well. After Dad died in December we decided to stop putting off the park that started my true love affair with this game. Today I saw Fenway.....
Stacey teared up when they walked us up the ramp to right behind home plate. I didn't tear up because I wanted to soak in everything I could. I got to see the oldest seats from the 1930's. I got to touch Fisk's pole while walking around the Monster seats. I got to walk behind the Press Box. I got to go through the museum, talk to the staff, hear some great stories and just enjoy being in the first church of baseball.
We ate lunch at Jerry Remy's place. We bought a program for a game we weren't going to attend. I got lots of comments about my Sea Dogs shirt and talked to a few Sox fans around the park. One guy mentioned he was at Ted's last game in 60 when he hit his home run in his last at bat. I remembered I read Updike's famous piece about that.
God, baseball and a good laugh. Those are three things I seek and enjoy thoroughly in and around my life.
A big part of my bucket list just got marked off. After seeing MLB stadiums in Atlanta, Arizona, Tampa, St. Louis, New York, Philly, Colorado, Seattle, Milwaukee, Chicago, Pittsburgh and St. Louis.....I finally saw the stadium that started this love affair.
The year was 1981....I was nine years old. I had gotten some Topps baseball cards for Christmas and I was watching the NBC baseball game of the week. I didn't know who Yaz, Rice, Lynn, Duey or Fisk was yet. I had just started playing baseball in a church league so I was probably watching to learn how to better hit and throw. I'm not sure the exact details of how it started.....my best guess is that my grandparents passed their TRUE LOVE for the Sox to me. I was the youngest grandchild and I had lived with my grandparents before I went to school because of having two parents that worked at school. That started a very close relationship with my grandparents. I know the Braves were on the TV a lot, but I'm also sure I heard about the Red Sox while "Bambi and Bampa" read the paper. I'm sure I first heard about Ted Williams losing five years to two wars during this time. I also know that when I started school, whenever my grandparents came for a meal or came to watch me while my parents went out....the talk ALWAYS TURNED TO BASEBALL.
So by the time I was 9 I was starting to become immersed in a game that allows you to dive deep. However, during that game of the week I saw a park that was unique and it belonged to my family. My grandparents talked about New Bedford and my mom talked about Worcester....but along with those stories came stories of Bobby Doerr, Ted Williams, Billy Goodman, and Johnny Pesky. Now that I was seeing the Monster and the Park I connected with the uniqueness of this park. It looked different from ALL OTHER PARKS. Even Wrigley was symmetrical like so many parks. Here was Fenway with its garage door in center field and a right center at 420 feet going all the way down to 302 in the right field corner.
So by 1981 I said, "I'm a Red Sox fan....so I want to see where they play." I never got to go during family trips. We went to Cooperstown and some other ballparks during family vacations (thanks Mom and Dad for feeding my love). We even visited Worcester once, but never made it to a game. After I got married Stacey and I talked about Fenway many times....we almost went once or twice, but something always came up or the finances were a tad too tight. Then kids came and getting the whole family to a game was too hard.
Three years ago we went to a Greenville Drive game and saw a Fenway replica. Then two years ago we started our own tradition of going to visit different baseball parks each year. Chicago was obvious, then Pitt and Philly allowed us to go see Greenville, PA as well. After Dad died in December we decided to stop putting off the park that started my true love affair with this game. Today I saw Fenway.....
Stacey teared up when they walked us up the ramp to right behind home plate. I didn't tear up because I wanted to soak in everything I could. I got to see the oldest seats from the 1930's. I got to touch Fisk's pole while walking around the Monster seats. I got to walk behind the Press Box. I got to go through the museum, talk to the staff, hear some great stories and just enjoy being in the first church of baseball.
We ate lunch at Jerry Remy's place. We bought a program for a game we weren't going to attend. I got lots of comments about my Sea Dogs shirt and talked to a few Sox fans around the park. One guy mentioned he was at Ted's last game in 60 when he hit his home run in his last at bat. I remembered I read Updike's famous piece about that.
God, baseball and a good laugh. Those are three things I seek and enjoy thoroughly in and around my life.
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