“Tell me, Rich, what’s it like for a young guy coming into a Major League situation with almost no warning?” The question was posed by game analyst Dale Schmidt, looking as poised as Callahan was uncomfortable.
“Uh …you know…we on the air?”
“Yes, Rich, we’re live.”
“Well, Mike, it’s pretty scary, you know?” Silence.
“How so?” the interviewer pressed, ignoring the rookie’s use of his broadcast colleague’s name.
“Well...I’m not used to this kind of attention. It’s a little difficult to concentrate on baseball when, you know, you see all those seats and those fans, and the cameras, you know?” Callahan plucked at the V-neck of his uniform top, brushing his hand against the microphone clipped there and creating a loud rumble. Dale Schmidt winced.
“What was going through your head when you came to bat, ninth inning, men on first and second, in a tie ballgame?”
“I was basically thinking about getting a hit, Mike, you know? Yeah, I wanted to get a hit.” He nodded his head when he said it, all the while staring at the ominous camera.
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