The Futility Infielder

I wish I could report that I gave myself the highest marks for my appearance on MSNBC's Connected Coast to Coast. But having reviewed the tape several times, it's pretty clear that a smooth pro I was not. Keith Olbermann's job is safe, and I don't think his former employers will be calling me anytime soon either.

Unlike most shows -- say, my pal Will Carroll's appearance on The Big Idea with Donnie Deutsch on Monday night, where he was in a three-person battle royale with the host (and some of those guys could have made their points more subtly with folding metal chairs) -- I was completely isolated not only from the other guests, but from hosts Ron Reagan and Monica Crowley as well. Reagan (yes, the former president's son, though he bears more resemblance to mother Nancy) and Crowley are 3000 miles apart, with the former in Seattle and the latter in New Jersey. The show takes place live, and much of it features boxed talking heads in two- or four-way split screens, with a godawful news ticker crawling below at all times. A visual feast it is not.



Having never done TV of any stripe, I had no idea what to expect, but by the time I was called upon to enter the "set," I knew this was a bare bones job. Just a little room with me sitting at a desk in front of a nondescript skyline backdrop. I opted to go sans glasses (which I can't see without) because when Andra grilled me in preparation the night before, I found myself better able to concentrate when I could avoid the outward distractions. At the producer's advice, I decided to forego the monitor to eliminate one more distraction, since I had been warned by several people not to look into it and away from the camera, lest I look shifty.

So it was me alone in a tiny room, with an earpiece and clip-on microphone, staring at a fuzzy blob that purported to be a camera. I thought this would make the whole thing seem a bit more like my appearances on Baseball Prospectus Radio, but the reality was much more complicated. I had to follow along through the first 10 minute segment of the show, getting a feel for the rapid jumps from speaker to speaker, recognizing the voices of of Senator John McCain and President George W. Bush (a Reagan, a Bush and a Jaffe on the same show -- now that's rich). As I listened to what Reagan, Crowley, and guests Congressman Christopher Shays (R-Connecticut) and Mike Wise of the Washington Post, I found myself disagreeing nearly every time they opened their mouths, particularly Shays, but I had no one to take my complaints.



Finally, after the commercial break came my turn, and I stumbled out of the gate. After sharing a laugh with Reagan over the site's name, I got flustered by his first question, when he assumed that my chapter in Carroll's book The Juice (the title and author of which went unmentioned) was about how steroids WERE rewriting the record book. All of my well-rehearsed talking points went out the window, and to borrow a metaphor from another sport, I had to scramble just to get back to the line of scrimmage. Not a great start.



I did better in my second spot, scoring a couple of good points, but I was never fully at ease, as I literally couldn't see what was coming next. All I could do was react, and as a rookie in this unforgiving medium, that made for a less than professional presentation.

Worse, I didn't see until later upon reviewing the recording that I looked like a sweaty hired goon. No makeup (none was offered), and the unforgiving fluorescent bulb in my room made every shadow on my face stand out. I looked like death at times.

And sometimes I just looked silly; praise Jesus Alou I didn't pick my nose. There's at least one point where I've got face time in a two-up shot with Shays and I'm just sitting there blinking like a sedated toad. Of course it probably came off as me looking unimpressed by what he had to say, which is the truth.



Anyway, most of my friends and family who saw the show say I did very well. I'm not so sure I agree -- there's plenty of evidence to the contrary, and I'm not hiding it. You can hear my segments here (3 mb MP3), and the photos have already been somewhat retouched to take away the worst of the shadows -- I'm not vain but I ain't a masochist either. For the truly insane devoted, I'll have a QuickTime clip of the show for download this weekend.

But as much as I could quibble with my appearance and my performance -- I'm not even going to touch the arguments on the show for the moment, as I've spent the past 24 hours dwelling on that topic -- I'm grateful for the opportunity to go on the air, and proud of the work that earned me that shot. It's not every day that a guy likes me gets plucked out of the crowd to go on TV, and this site got a nice amount of exposure. I want to thank everybody who offered words of encouragement and support, and who took the time to tune in, and I'd like to welcome any of the show's viewers visiting here on the heels of my appearance. I'll sleep better knowing that this is one particular first I never have to go through again, and that the bar for improvement the next time around isn't all that high.

Labels: steroids