Sunday afternoon... World Champion Boston Red Sox in town... and Marty has his grandchildren singing "Take me out to the Ball Game" while the game is being played. Not during a pitching change, not between innings.
It's over for him. He has become bigger than the game.
He can't handle Jeff Brantley. He can't deal with a partner who knows more baseball then he does. He can't tolerate a strong personality with a national reputation sitting next to him. He has to pass judgment on almost every comment Brantley makes, even if all he can say is simply "Absolutely right." It sounds like amateurs broadcasting high school games and affirming each other all night long.
Yesterday Marty misread an email; Jeff teased him and laughed hysterically in the background. I don't know if Marty was given incorrect information or he simply misunderstood what he was reading, but after Jeff's laughter the booth chatter abruptly stopped and there was nothing but crowd noise for quite a few seconds. Somebody was paying the price.
It's over for him. He has become bigger than the game.
He can't handle Jeff Brantley. He can't deal with a partner who knows more baseball then he does. He can't tolerate a strong personality with a national reputation sitting next to him. He has to pass judgment on almost every comment Brantley makes, even if all he can say is simply "Absolutely right." It sounds like amateurs broadcasting high school games and affirming each other all night long.
Yesterday Marty misread an email; Jeff teased him and laughed hysterically in the background. I don't know if Marty was given incorrect information or he simply misunderstood what he was reading, but after Jeff's laughter the booth chatter abruptly stopped and there was nothing but crowd noise for quite a few seconds. Somebody was paying the price.