A little "chin music"

I’m back in Seattle calling games for the Mariners on 710 ESPN, MLB.COM, and Sirius/XM. A question I’m frequently asked is if I get to take batting practice with the players?

At the major league level, no. They sort of take batting practice seriously. And often, fans are invited to come out to the park early and watch BP and they certainly don't want to drive halfway across town to watch some yutz announcer flail around in the batting cage.

But in the minors things are a little looser. When I was broadcasting for the Syracuse Chiefs in 1988 I would occasionally shag fly balls out in the outfield during batting practice. For the most part I was horrible. Couldn’t catch a thing. But the team was very tolerant.

About halfway through the season I got up the nerve to ask one of our coaches if I could take a few swings. He said, “Sure. Grab a bat and a helmet.” I was very excited. I wasn’t wearing a uniform, but I donned a helmet and snatched a bat off the rack. In my blue jeans and polo shirt I was ready!

The coach who gave me permission trotted out to the mound to pitch to me. I climbed into the cage, dug in in the batter’s box, and prepared to drive that first pitch deep into the leftfield bleachers.

That first pitch comes… right at my head. I dive to get out of the way, just sprawling in the dirt.

Oh well. That must’ve just been one that got away.

I get up, dust myself off, wait for all the laughter to die down, then assume my fierce batting stance.

The next pitch comes. Same place. Right at my coconut. Again, I’m rolling in the dirt, sunglasses flying off my head.  The players are hysterical. 

Well, this happened three or four more times and I got the hint. That was the last time I asked to take batting practice.

Postscript: Our leftfielder made a bonehead play one night and our manager was so livid that when the player came back into the dugout the manager screamed, “You’re so bad even fuckin’ LEVINE is better!”

I, of course, took that as a compliment.

Another one of those great Hollywood stories

In early 1975 I was writing spec scripts with my partner, David Isaacs, trying desperately to break into the business. At the time we were going nowhere fast. The spec RHODA we had submitted was rejected. Then the producer left and we re-submitted it. And the new producer rejected it. (That new producer is now my next-door neighbor. I just keep re-submitting it.)

Anyway, on the way to lunch I need to stop at the bank. I probably bounced a check. I go to the back of a long line and notice that the person directly in front of me is Jessica Harper. Ms. Harper is a fine actress and at the time was very hot. She had appeared in LOVE AND DEATH for Woody Allen and had starred in the cult feature PHANTOM OF THE PARADISE among other credits.

Oh, did I mention I had a HUGE crush on her?  

So I begin talking to her. She’s very nice. I’m asking about working with Woody Allen, her career, anything to keep the conversation rolling. All the while we slowly inch forward in line. When she is finally at the front I decide to do something I never ever do. If you know me you know this is true.

I ask her out. Right there in the bank.

She very graciously declines. A teller is free, she dashes off, and that was that.

I get back in the car and relate the story to David. He of course, gives me shit for fifteen minutes. “You did WHAT?!” Finally, I say, “Someday we’re going to be big producers casting a pilot and Jessica Harper is going to walk into our office and read for us. And then she’ll be sorry.” We laugh, go back to my apartment, and continue working on a spec that will soon be rejected all over town.  Jessica goes off and stars in another Woody Allen movie and one with Steve Martin. 

Flash forward to 1993. David and I have a pilot for CBS, BIG WAVE DAVE’S and we’re casting. Who walks into our office?

Yep.

Jessica has no idea why we both seem to be beaming the minute she enters the room. Her audition goes well. She’s a terrific actress. She wasn’t totally right for the part but she still gave a great reading.

I’m on the fence about telling her the story. On the one hand, she might be a great sport and find it amusing. On the other, if we don’t hire her maybe she’ll think it’s because of the bank and we’re the most unprofessional spiteful assholes in Hollywood. So we say nothing. I’m sure if Jessica reads this or someone points her to this post it will be the first she’s heard of it. And I guarantee you she has no recollection of the bank encounter. Ten minutes of her life with some schmuck in a line.

But it’s still one of those delicious career moments. And for the record, I still have a crush on Jessica Harper and would be thrilled to work with her. She’s now a blogger and an author as well as an actress and the least I can do is plug her blog, which you can read here, and her cookbook, which you can find here.