'Always assume the camera is on and the mic is hot'

I bonded with my daughter over make-up. Normally I’d say that’s not a good thing for a father, but we had a pretty good reason: I needed to look my best for national television.

The political world’s spotlight was on Michigan last week. Rick Santorum and Mitt Romney were campaigning hard to win the state’s Republican presidential primary and gain momentum heading into this week’s “Super Tuesday” showdown.

I’ve been part of my media group’s team covering the campaigns, specifically keeping an eye on Santorum. The former Pennsylvania senator was coming off a trio of wins and was neck-and-neck with Romney as Election Day neared.

That’s about as good as it gets for a political junkie.

Our jobs at the newspaper have changed a bit in the last year, moving beyond print and even the website. We had a role in an afternoon radio program for much of the year. And the nice folks at WGVU, our local public television channel, have invited me to appear a number of times on “West Michigan Week,” a Sunday morning news talk show.

It’s been said that I have a face for radio and a voice for print, but they keep asking me back.

With focus on Michigan politics getting sharper, CNN on Friday came looking for some local expertise to appear on camera. The call was bounced to me. A CNN producer asked for some background about which issues were important in the state, and why Santorum seemed to be doing well in the state where his chief rival was born.

I was to be at the WGVU studio for make-up at 3:45 p.m. on Sunday, with a “chair time” of 4:05 and a “hit time” of 4:15. I learned all kinds of new terms.

Oh, and would I like a car to pick me up?


I decided to drive myself, and Caroline and I headed down to the studio very early, adopting her marching band mantra of “early is on time,on time is late and late is unacceptable.”

Much debate went into the outfit, and we settled on my blacksuit and red tie with little drawings of the White House that look like stripes.

Mary, a make-up artist, soon arrived and opened a bag full of all kinds of cosmetics. She must have sensed I was nervous and eased my fears by telling me how everything worked.

As she dabbed foundation and concealer on my face, Mary told me that she’s called fairly regularly to WGVU to make up people appearing on CNN and FOX. The local stations don’t like allowing the cable networks to use their facilities, but the public television station gladly allows its studios to be rented.

“It brings a lot of money into the station,” she said. “You’re helping a lot of people just by appearing, so don’t be nervous.”

Mary said most of the people who pass through are friendly, especially former GOP candidate Herman Cain, who appeared earlier in the week and impressed all with his charm and singing.



Properly made up for my first time ever, we walked down the hall to the studio. It is the same room where we film “West Michigan Week,” but set up differently. There was a bookcase on wheels that gets used as a library-like backdrop, but today the producers choose a green screen to project a photo of the Grand Rapids skyline.

There was a chair on a platform with a little table with a glass of water, set up facing a camera.

Students working in the studio set me up with an earpiece through which I’d hear the program and instructions, and a microphone clipped to my jacket with a battery pack slipped into my jacket’s pocket.

Then we waited.

There wasn’t a monitor, since live television isn’t exactly live, as there is a slight delay. So I’d be having a conversation with a camera lens.

I could hear the show in the earpiece, and then I heard a voice. “This is control in Atlanta. We’re going to do a mic check. Can you count to five?”

Finally, the moment came. I was being interviewed with a Detroit Free Press editorial writer. I’d been mentally preparing answers, but the first question was unexpected: Why did my newspaper endorse Romney? I had an idea why, and I was part of the interviews with Romney when he campaigned for the nomination in 2008. I think I pulled it off.

Caroline snapped this on a control room monitor. Grand Rapids was not really behind me.

The second question was about the top issues. The Detroit writer went first and covered the jobs issue. This time I was ready. Our “West Michigan Week” show on Friday was with a pollster who told us about how Romney’s Mormon faith could be an unspoken problem if the race is tight. I think that one went well.

Then I heard, “OK, we’re clear.”

Here’s something I learned. I assumed the camera was on me only when I was talking. What I didn’t realize was that the network was running a shot with me, the Detroit writer and the host. I licked my lips a couple times when the other people were talking because they were so dry in the studio. And, well, now everyone watching knows that.

“Always assume the camera is on and the mic is hot,” a veteran television reporter told me the next day at a Romney rally.

My Lansing Bureau colleague Brandon snapped the great screen shot that I've posted, well, everywhere.

Wall Street Journal radio called on Monday and asked for an interview. Then C-SPAN sent word it was looking for someone to talk about the race during the Santorum Election Night – and then ABC News radio also wanted someone to talk on air about the event.

Election Night parties are staged largely for the media.

Campaigns want images of their candidate giving a victory speech before an adoring crowd in a packed room beamed out around the country. What folks watching at home don’t know is that there are as many media people in the room as there are adoring supporters.

The ballroom in Grand Rapids had a decorated stage, with Santorum’s banner hanging behind the podium.

But much of the rest was set aside for the media, which platforms and lights, and lots of tables for reporters to bang out stories on laptops. There were miles of cords and cables.

I found my new friends at C-SPAN – very nice people -- early in the night and they walked me through what would happen. It would be very different from the CNN appearance.

No make-up, green screen or empty studio this time.

I was to balance on a crowded platform with my back to the podium so the adoring supporters would serve as a backdrop. Other reporters and their camera crews were out of camera range, but within an arm’s reach.
Again there would be an earpiece to hear the host, and there was a little stand with a volume control before me, waist high. One of the producers attached a small microphone to my lapel, and used duct tape to make sure the wires stayed hidden and attached to the sport jacket’s lining.
Producers were just a couple feet away, monitoring the activity on a laptop.
This session went longer, with the host asking questions about the atmosphere at the party and why Romney seemed to be struggling in his native state. We also talked about Michigan going for the Democratic candidate in past presidential elections, and the value of being a swing state.

I was careful not to lick my lips – this time.

Santorum came out around a half-hour later to give a not-quite-concession speech, and then the national media packed up and headed out to Ohio – to find other print reporters for their 15 minutes of national fame.

My awesome Cornerstone students were on hand and documented every moment of the C-SPAN appearance.

Thank you, Gary Carter

When we lost Donn Clendenon not too long ago, I noted how difficult it was to see the heroes of 1969 growing old and passing on.

Today I realized something more difficult, and that’s losing the heroes of 1986 before they have a chance to grow old.

I looked for a baseball card that best summed up my memories of Gary Carter, one with that mega-watt smile that seemed to show us how much he loved playing baseball.

Then I figured there was no reason to stop at just one.




Gary Carter helped make it fun to be a Mets fan in the 1980s. And unlike some of his teammates, he remained a role model.

Hostess cards and the betrayals of 1977

I’m in a bad place this week -- an ugly place. Which means it is a good time to talk about the 1977 season and the Hostess set.

As we said earlier, 1976 was a fun, buoyant time. We had no idea what kind of nasty storm was approaching.

Part of the problem is that I’m too loyal to people, teams and places and I always think that people, teams and places whom I give love and devotion will continue to treat me and mine well. So I spend a fair amount of time in shock and disbelief when they do not.

Yeah, I know.

So the 13-year-old Mets Guy took the events of 1977 very personally.

The team stumbled out of the gate, with manager Joe Fraizer getting bounced after a 15-30 start, replaced by Joe Torre, who became the Mets first player-manager, with the player part lasting about two weeks.

Then came the massacre, the June 15 trade deadline that found the team shipping Tom Seaver to the Reds for four players. While management was at it, it sent Dave Kingman to the Padres.

I distinctly remember watching the news on television, pounding on the floor that Charlton Heston at the end of “Planet of the Apes.”

The team spiraled down for the remainder of the season, finishing 64-98, the Mets’ first last-place finish since 1967.

Making it worse, the Yankees won the World Series and most of the neighborhood kids jumped on the bandwagon to the Bronx Zoo as Shea became Grant’s Tomb.

Not me, of course. I voiced outrage over Steve Henderson getting robbed by Andre Dawson in Rookie of the Year voting and expected Pat Zachary to be the new staff ace.

The Hostess set was again 150 cards, five of them Mets. That includes Seaver and Kingman. The others are Jerry Koosman, who suffered a 20-loss season despite a respectable ERA, Jon Matlack and Felix Millan.

The design is pretty drab – though not as drab as what was to come—with white borders and player names in a semi-circle.

Looking back, I realize that heading to Cincinnati was painful but probably the best thing for Seaver, who piled up wins, pitched his no-hitter and would have been handed a fourth Cy Young Award had writers not gotten swept up in Fernando Mania.

Hopefully I’ll look back at the events of this week in the same way.

Hostess baseball cards in 1976 fit in with good times, bicentennial

The Hostess sets printed on the bottoms of snack boxes between 1975 and 1979 looked pretty similar, with the white borders and simple listing of a player's name, team and position.

Except, of course, for the 1976 issue.

The cards have bold red, white and blue bars across the bottom – making sure they'd blend in perfectly with everything else during that magical bicentennial year.

The patriotism that flowed in the wake of the 2001 terrorism attacks is the only other time I remember seeing so much red, white and blue. That was for healing. But in 1976, it was for celebrating.

It was a good time, even for Mets fans. Slipped in between Watergate and the Carter malaise, people were upbeat, thinking boldly.

Hawthorn elementary school did the unthinkable, conducting a massive carnival to raise enough money to send the entire fifth and sixth grades to Philadelphia for a day, a spot that was easily considered Bicentennial Central.

This was an adventure of the highest order – the Liberty Bell, Independence Hall and Ben Franklin's privy, which was cooler when we learned what it was. Remember, we were 12.

Nothing was missed. Even our school photos that year had a Spirit of '76 flag in the background.

The Mets did not suck. The team finished in third place, but with 86 wins, which was the franchise's second-highest total for a long time.

Dave Kingman bashed 37 home runs, steady Eddie Kranepool hit .292, Jerry Koosman had his big 21-win season and Jon Matlack had 17 wins.

Kingman started in the All-Star Game, played in Philadelphia, of course. The National League won, also of course.

As for the Hostess set, I count seven Mets among the 150 cards: Kingman, Seaver, Bud Harrelson, Jerry Grote, Matlack, Felix Millan, and Mike Vail, who is a short-print.

Vail's presence is notable, as he was the rookie whose brief success in 1975 led to Rusty Staub's unfortunate exodus to Detroit.

I only recently acquired the Seaver,and the photo looks like it was used on some Topps leader cards. I also have the Kingman and Grote.

The rest remain elusive.

We had no idea of the horrors that awaited in 1977, but 1976 was a good time for all.

Twinkies were fine, but the cards were better

I confess there was some sadness when I learned this week that Hostess was filing for bankruptcy.

It's not a love for Twinkies, you understand. I haven't enjoyed one in years.

But from 1975 to 1979, I'd rush to the Twinkies section of Dan's Supreme and Pathmark to turn over box after box, scanning the bottom for elusive Mets. There were cards issued in 1993, too, but that was different. We'll get to that.

But during the Topps baseball card monopoly, the company issued one set of cards. That's different from today, when the company also seems to have a monopoly but issues many, many sets.

But back in the 1970s, the only other cards out there were linked to the occasional food items, printed on the bottom of the box.

It wasn't easy to find the Mets. It was an epic search.

Consider that there 150 cards in the sets. These were some of the Mets “quiet years,” so there were not many of our players in the sets. There were three cards to a box. It's not like there were unlimited of Twinkies boxes.

On a great day, Mom needed something on the store when the shelves were stocked, and I could overturn the entire display searching for Tom Seaver, who was always the priority, or other Mets.

There were some difficult choices. Buying multiple boxes was not an option. And the stock was picked through pretty quickly given all the Mets fans in Massapequa Park.


On the bright side, I could make purchases confidently since the cards were plainly visible on the box bottoms. I didn't have to buy a box merely hoping that Bud Harrelson was nestled under a “golden sponge cake with creamy frosting inside.”

Let's look at each year's cards, starting with the 1975 set. The design in as plain as can be, which stood in sharp contrast to that year's wildly colored Topps issue.




The Seaver card is, of course, spectacular, even with the tape marks. Cut me some slack, I was 11.

I also rounded up a Harrelson and a John Milner. Tom and Buddy were snapped in spring training, and Milner has the beautiful Shea batter's eye in the background.

The Staub card was acquired later. Two years ago it was the subject of some magnificent sleuthing by my friends in the Crane Pool Forum.



I wondered if this was just the worst case of airbrushing ever. Topps back in the day would paint uniforms on traded players. And sometimes, well, let's just say no one was fooled.

There was a long-suspected photo connection between Hostess and Topps.

Note that the Expos logo is still clearly visable on Rusty’s chest. Topps often would leave collar trim in plain view, but never an entire team logo.

Then it appears an artist started adding Mets pinstripes on Rusty’s unstriped Expos jersey, then got distracted and stopped.

And keep in mind, this card is from 1975. Rusty was traded to the Mets at the start of the 1972 season.

Crane Pool Forum poster batmgadanleadoff offered a theory that maked great sense.

Rusty, it is known, had some kind of beef with Topps, because his cards do not appear in the 1972 and 1973 sets. His first Mets card is in the 1974 issue.

His guess is that the screwup with the Expos "elb" logo and pinstriping was not an artist's oversight, but that the photo was supposed to be cropped higher up, at around Staub's neck and through the shoulder line.

“I've seen several proofs of old Topps cards where the cap or helmet was airbrushed to reflect the player's brand new team,” he wrote. “In those proofs, the jersey top (former team) was left unaltered. The final card was cropped above the jersey.”

That makes sense to me. And I was convinced when the fine people behind the Ultimate Mets Database created this mock-up of what an air-brushed 1972 Topps Staub card might have looked like.


There are no such horror with the 1976 set, which we'll tackle next.

Mets ornament of the day: Dropping a big ball in hopes of a better year

I'm not a big New Year's Eve person. But I'm eagerly celebrating the end of 2011.

This has not been a good year. At the risk of tempting fate, I'm very happy to be throwing out the 2011 calendar in hopes that 2012 won't be as bad.

I'm not saying that we are not blessed as a whole, or that there have not been some good times during the past 12 months.

Manny Acosta, Jason Bay and Carlos Beltran sure provided a highlight. I learned a lot about marching bands. And I was able to visit some very interesting places for work, like New Orleans.

But we also suffered some tremendous losses, not even counting Jose Reyes.

I'm optimistic by nature, so there will be genuine celebrating as the giant ball drops in Times Square. I think we will do better in 2012.

And speaking of giant balls, I love this Shea Stadium ornament. While I've seen other ornaments depicting miniature versions of the ballparks, I've never seen this particular design for other teams.

Shea was a happy place for me, a magical place even during the dark times. The horrors of the late 1970s gave way to the glories of Tom's return, Doc and Darryl's emergence, Keith and Gary's arrival and the thrills of 1986.

The years with Jeff Torborg and Dallas Green at the helm melted into Bobby Valentine guiding Mike Piazza and grand slam singles and Subway Series.

Even the short-lived Howe era blossomed with David Wright and Reyes and Pedro and Beltran and a division title.

We work through the setbacks because we know that with hard work and a little luck, all will be good again. The challenges make the successes all the more enjoyable.

May 2012 bring you peace and happiness. It's time.

Mets ornaments of the day: The best present ever

I opened some wonderful Christmas gifts this year and in the past, but there is one that stands above all others.

You have to understand that I've always loved baseball uniforms. Stores didn't start selling polyester replicas until I was in high school. They were not as close as to the authentic versions as you see today. Everything was polyester, and all the lettering was screen-printed. No buttons, as all the replicas were pull-overs.

I remember running to one of the department stores in the Sunrise Mall – it might have been Gertz – and finding the Astros rainbow replica.

There were no Mets replicas there, but I was thrilled to get a shirt from any team other than the Yankees. I remember a classmate asking, dismissively, why I was wearing an Astros jersey. But I loved all baseball uniforms, and would even get the matching mesh-backed, adjustable caps to go with them. These were prized possessions.

The mall supply exhausted quickly – I'm surprised the store carried them at all – but my parents knew about Gerry Cosby's store in Westbury. It was an amazing place, even though it seemed to be filled mostly with hockey equipment.

But I remember one shelf with the polyester replicas, which soon was to be the source of birthday and Christmas lists. Before long I had acquired the Giants, Phillies, Dodgers, Expos and Padres and, finally, the Mets.

But I the highlight of a Cosby's visit was seeing the authentic jerseys, stored under glass like the treasures they were. It was inconceivable that a mere mortal could walk around in the exact same jersey worn by Major League Baseball players. It was even a thrill to see them up close, looking at how the lettering was stitched on.


These polyester shirts were an essential part of my wardrobe, along with the three-quarter-sleeved, baseball-styled concert shirts purchased by guys with duffel bags hiding from the police in the Nassau Coliseum parking lot after the shows. Find a photograph of me from that era, and I likely will be wearing one or the other.

But one year, I'm pretty sure it was 1985, I unwrapped a box, lifted off the lid and set my eyes on the most beautiful thing it's ever seen. An authentic, pull-over Mets jersey with the new blue-and-orange racing stripes. The Real Thing.

It was just like the one Tom Seaver wore in his homecoming season, and that Dwight Gooden had worn that season. A magical thing – and perhaps the best Christmas present ever.

Naturally, I have a several Mets jersey ornaments. Though none have the 1980s racing stripes, they bring back memories of that special present.

Mets ornament of the day: Johan Santana and the rare benefit of being a Michigan Mets fan

There are very few benefits to being a Mets fan in Michigan.

It's nice when the Mets come to Detroit to play the Tigers at Comerica Park because most of the Detroit fans are crowded around the Tigers dugout before and after the game. With less competition, I was able to have nice experiences with Chip Hale and Scott Hairston before the game.

And after the game, Manny Acosta famously looked up, saw my Mets jersey and threw me the ball use to record the final out.

But the other benefit came two years ago when Hallmark issued a Johan Santana ornament.

The designation was disastrous for Santana, of course. He was victimized by the Hallmark curse, as we all knew he would.

But my Michigan location was perfect for snagging leftover Santana ornaments at post-holiday prices. Apparently there wasn't much demand for Johan, because I found several at half-off in the days after Christmas.

But then I hit the jackpot. I was in Kohl's in early January, walked past what was left of the Christmas display and saw ornaments were 90 percent off. And, there were a pile of Santanas, apparently unloved by most other Michiganers but beloved by one in particular.

I cleaned the shelves. Friends and relatives back in the Homeland who were shut out soon found Santanas in their mailboxes. They were a little late for that Christmas, but the next year's trees sure looked better!

Mets ornament of the day: Some of the best aren't found in a store

Mets ornaments are special for different reasons.

Some are hard to find. Some are linked to specific events. Some pay tribute to individual players.

And others are special because of the person who made them.

The baseball room Christmas tree is, of course, a great source of pride and family discussion. My daughter Caroline usually helps me set it up and decorate it.

Caroline also is pretty creative, crafting all kinds of things out of duct tape, paper and anything else she gets her hands on. She's very good.

Years ago, when she was just starting down the crafting road, she surprised me by making an ornament for the Mets tree. Ice cream sticks in majestic royal blue and magnificent orange, gingerly glued to resemble the coolest Mets snowflake. Or maybe a star.

I'm not entirely sure. But it always will be special, hanging in a place of honor in the front of the tree.

I'm in Illinois celebrating with family this year. Wishing you and your family a very merry Christmas!

Mets ornament of the day: David Wright, who is NOT going to the Phillies

Some silly Phillies fans are spreading ugly Twitter rumors that the Mets are going to trade David Wright to their goofy little team.

Silly Phillies fans.

The team would have to throw in Roy Halladay, Cliff Lee, that bell they broke and a Pat's King of Steaks stand to go alongside the Shake Shack for us to even begin the conversation.

For one thing, nothing good comes of a trade with Philadelphia. Look at the track record. Over the years we've given them Tug McGraw, Roger McDowell and Lenny Dykstra. And what did we get back? Mac Scarce and Juan Samuel. (I'm not counting John Stearns and Del Unser. Work with me.)

And for another, we've already given the Phillies a pair of division titles. Handed them to the team on a platter.

I know it's better to give than to receive. But it's time the Phillies started sending something useful our way.

One thing they're not getting is my sweet David Wright ornament. It's another Forever Collectibles ornament, which means it looks nothing like David Wright. But it's still pretty cool. And it's not headed to Philadelphia.