"Not to worry, kid": Tales from a season of minor league baseball with the Lake Erie Crushers

It was a Friday morning in May 2009 and I pulled up to All Pro Freight Stadium in Avon (now called Sprenger Health Care Stadium) to get on a bus and head to a little town in Pennsylvania to broadcast my first minor league baseball game. Only a few weeks earlier, I was faced with a difficult career decision: Move to Detroit with my company, Metro Networks, to anchor news and sports updates on radio stations in the Motor City, or stay behind in Cleveland and hope to come up with another job.

I had seen an ad on a trade site that the new Lake Erie Crushers were looking for a play-by-play announcer. The Crushers were an expansion team in the Frontier League, an independent league with no affiliation with major league clubs. Why not apply, I figured. What's the worst that can happen?

After a couple of phone calls with Jen Doan, the business manager of the Crushers, I was hired. I would be paid $1,000 a month to do the play-by-play for all of the games, home and away, plus write pregame and postgame media releases.

This was completely out of my 'comfort zone' as an announcer. I had just spent the last year anchoring SportsCenter updates on ESPN 850 WKNR and before that, I was Sports Director at WOBL and WDLW radio stations in Lorain County. I had only done a small handful of college baseball games in my life. Certainly not pro ball and not every single day.

'Was I up to the challenge? Could I really do this?,' I kept thinking to myself.

How nervous was I that first day? I forgot my cell phone.

It's true. I left it in my car back in Avon. I spent all weekend borrowing the phone of my roommate, Crushers trainer Matt Yonkof, to check in with family.

The bus that carried 25 players, two coaches, one trainer, one manager, and yours truly that day to Washington started a ride that would eventually take us to a September to remember in suburban St. Louis.

But back in late May, there was absolutely no instructions for me on how to put together the webcasts. The Crushers didn't have a radio partner at the time, so all games were simulcast on the team's website. I was given a laptop, a mixing board, a couple of headsets, and that was it.

When I actually got on the air, I figured out that doing webcasts were really cool, except for one small, tiny, minor point: There are no commercials.

None.

There was no team engineer, no team IT person, or anything like that. My job was to get on the air and broadcast games. And I couldn't bear the thought of listeners (many of which were friends and family members of the team that couldn't make it to the game) having to endure dead air.

So there never was any. All season long, I went wire-to-wire on the air. The pregame show would typically start 15 minutes prior to first pitch with pre-recorded interviews with a player or the opposing team's announcer, followed by a conversation with the Crushers manager.

You do the games. In-between innings, you update out-of-town scores or find other fun tidbits to talk about. You bring in a guest to sit in and talk with you. If you were a writer covering the game for The Morning Journal or Chronicle Telegram, come on in.

Early in the season, I invited team owner Steven Edelson to join me for a half-inning or so. He would sometimes stay for considerably longer, or have his young children take his place and wear headphones. He would also make you wince by openly criticizing players in the middle of the game.

It was all a little bumpy at first, but I soon learned the trade.

No one in my broadcasting career has taught me more about the game of baseball than John "Mazz" Massarelli, the man chosen to manage the Lake Erie Crushers for their inaugural year of 2009.

A former eighth-round draft pick by the Houston Astros, Mazz had spent the better part of the last 20 years riding the bus as a minor league player and manager when he took on the challenge of managing the Crushers.

In 2005, the Dover-native founded the Massarelli Baseball School in Akron. In the last 13 years, more than 500 of his students have gone on to play college baseball or softball. Three students have been drafted into professional baseball.

The man lives and breathes baseball with a special passion for teaching the game.

I'm not sure that he was all that thrilled about having to do daily interviews with me at first. However, he took to calling me "Radio Dino" and ended every one of our conversations with "Not to worry, kid."

"What are you talking about," I asked him, when he busted out that phrase on me.

"Radio Dino, are you trying to tell me that you've never seen Slap Shot? That's the line that Paul Newman's character Reg Dunlop uses at the end of his radio interview," Mazz exclaimed. "Come on!"

I think I've seen Slap Shot 50 times now in the last nine years. It really is a great movie. I have no idea why I hadn't seen it before.

Things like that make great stories when you've got time to kill in a commercial-free webcast. Quickly, I learned other valuable times to pick the brain of Mazz, outside of our taped interviews.

Making the walk to the field hours before the game during warmups and batting practice was always a good move. You pick up things that the coaches are working on with the players on and sometimes, you get tidbits that never leave you.

A couple of games into the season when we were in Rockford, Illinois, Mazz turned to me as the team was taking fielding practice and pointed over to third base. Andrew Davis, a native of Chillicothe, who attended Kent State before being drafted by the San Francisco Giants, was manning his position.

"You see that guy? He's the best player in the league," the manager said assuredly.

I was surprised. Davis had played two seasons in the Giants organization and hadn't really distinguished himself. Now, he's going to be the best player in the entire Frontier League?

"I'm telling you, Davis is that good," Mazz said.

Davis would hit .327 in the magical year of 2009 with 15 home runs and 68 runs batted in. He also was head and shoulders above everyone else with his defense.

Later this summer, Andrew Davis will become the first member of the Lake Erie Crushers to be inducted into the Frontier League Hall of Fame.

The great ones know the great ones.

The Lake Erie Crushers of 2009 were an interesting mix of players. Some, like Davis, had experience playing affiliated baseball after being drafted. Others played exclusively in the Frontier League. Some came directly from the college ranks.

While Davis was the straw that stirred the drink for Lake Erie that championship season, he was not alone. Massarelli shrewdly put together a roster that had the right blend of leadership, talent, and heart.

One of his first priorities was to get a starting pitcher who could be the ace of his staff. Paul Fagan fit that role like a glove. Fagan was a former fourth round pick of the Mariners, but wasn't able to climb higher than Single-A ball in five years with Seattle.

Massarelli realized that Fagan could be a star in the Frontier League. The left-hander seemingly started every important game for Lake Erie in 2009, finishing 14-3 with a 2.70 ERA.

Second baseman Andrew Saylor, a Wadsworth native, was another key player in Mazz's mix. Drew had played with Andrew Davis at Kent State before being selected by the Florida Marlins in the 13th round of the 2006 draft. He, too, would find his best success playing in the Frontier League, first with Chillicothe, then with the Crushers.

On and off the field, Saylor proved to be a rock of leadership. From his clutch hitting and steady fielding, to being the ringmaster of the team's kangaroo court (aka 'The Bang Box'). Drew has parlayed his experience as a player into a blossoming career as a manager. He currently skippers the Rancho Cucamonga Quakes in the L.A. Dodgers organization. Someday, I believe he will be coaching in the big leagues.

Saylor, Davis, and shortstop Jodam Rivera, would prove to form a stellar infield for the Crushers.

There were all kinds of personalities on that team.

Gordon Gronkowski (yes, as in THE Gronkowski family) was the power-hitter of the lineup, bashing 19 homers and driving in 79 runs.

Also, he was the class clown of the team, yet one of the nicest people you could ever meet. Gordie was the first of five Gronkowski brothers to play professional sports, four of his younger brothers, including future Hall of Famer Rob, all made it into the NFL.

Then there was my other roommate on the road: A soft-spoken, right-hander from Colorado, who made national headlines before he ever made a single pitch for Lake Erie.

Life as a minor league baseball player is not as glamorous as it might be made to look if you watch Bull Durham. Most of the players stay with 'host families' during the course of the season because you don't get paid enough to afford to live in an apartment or extended stay hotel. In 2009, as the Lake Erie Crushers were preparing for their inaugural season, the call went out in Avon and surrounding communities for host families that could house the players during the season.

Cindy Griffiths-Novak answered the call. She thought it would be great to house one of the players at The Belvedere of Westlake, an assisted-living home owned by her and her husband. Josh Faiola won the lottery and was given his very own suite at the Belvedere for the season. A suite with a flat-screen television and kitchenette that would normally cost $5,000 a month.

Local papers picked up the story, then local television, including WKYC:

The story then went viral nationally, and Josh was soon being interviewed on ESPN and CNN.

When we were rooming together during the season, there was talk of a possible book or movie deal. That never materialized, but ESPN decided to follow Josh during the season and featured him on their E:60 documentary series that fall. You can watch it below:

There's nothing like having your voice calling play-by-play on the Worldwide Leader.

The road to the Frontier League championship would take the Lake Erie Crushers all over the Midwest. The Eastern Division featured teams from Washington, Pennsylvania, plus Traverse City, Kalamazoo, and Ypsilanti, Michigan, as well as Florence, Kentucky.

The Western Division offered teams from east and west St. Louis in Gateway and River City, plus teams in Rockford, Marion, and suburban Chicago, Illinois, as well as Evansville, Indiana.

You play a regular season of roughly 90 games from Memorial Day to Labor Day. There are very few days off for the team, even after long bus rides. You might take a 10 hour ride home from Marion (Southern Illinois) back to Avon and not get in until 6 or 7 a.m, but you're back on the field for a 7:00 p.m. game that night. On the road, the team tended to stay at a Red Roof Inn or Days Inn. You might get $20 a day per diem for meals.

The players value the clubhouses that had peanut butter and jelly sandwiches available. That allowed for budgeting money if we were on a long trip. I, too learned the value of eating in the media dining room. Yes, there were many a hot dog, but some places would go all out. Florence, for example, had an all-you-can-eat Qdoba bar.

The season is filled with routines. What makes it special is when things out-of-the-ordinary happen.

Fagan was spectacular on June 2nd when Lake Erie played their first ever home game at All-Pro Freight Stadium, pitching eight innings in a 5-2 victory over Windy City. "To get a win tonight in the first one at our new place is incredible," Mazz said afterwards. "It's very unique and something I'll always remember."

Massarelli wasn't nearly as happy on July 12th, the final game before the All-Star break. With Lake Erie mired in a three-game losing skid and trailing at home to River City, the Crushers manager was tossed in the fifth inning. Mazz got so frustrated with the umpiring crew that he threw his hat 20 yards (okay, it wasn't that far, but you get the idea) before exiting the game with his first ejection of the season.

As the game was winding down, he texted me that he was listening to the webcast while watching a war movie on TV in the clubhouse.

Mazz also became notorious for walking around the clubhouse in his tank top, khaki pants, and barefoot. I swear he looked like a (slightly) older version of Bruce Willis' character John McClane from Die Hard. So for the rest of the season, we would toss Hans Gruber references at each other.

Despite the bad run before the break, the Crushers were 25-22 and right in contention. Massarelli always preached that you divide a baseball season into thirds: The first third of the season is for figuring out your team. What is the chemistry like? What moves can you make to elevate the ballclub?

The second third is for making those moves. It's adding key components like center fielder Tyler Johnson, closer J.J. Pacella, starting pitcher Cardoza Tucker, and first baseman Eddie Tisdale. How do you get those types of players? By having a career of making good contacts in the high school, college, and professional baseball ranks.

The final third of the season is the fun part. Play out the string. See what happens.

On August 20, there wasn't much fun to be had. The Crushers lost at Southern Illinois via the last-at-bat for the second night in a row, as the Miners completed a three-game sweep. Suddenly, Lake Erie's grip on one of the two Wild Card spots seemed to be loosening. The faces on the bus were dejected as we prepared for a long ride back home.

Mazz got on the bus and addressed the team. "Look, I know you guys are upset and pissed off, but I'm telling you right now, if you play like this down the stretch, we're going to come back here next month and get another shot at these guys. We're going to be in this thing for the long run."

He was half-right. The Crushers would indeed be in 'the thing,' but not against the Miners.

After a furious march through the end of August, the Crushers qualified for the postseason as a Wild Card thanks to an extra-inning, walk-off RBI single by Tisdale to score Jessie Gibson in an 11-10 win over Midwest on September 5. You can hear the call below:

The win over Midwest was a microcosm of the season. The Crushers were down 6-1 and 10-6, but Saylor refused to let his team lose. He tied the game in the ninth with an RBI single, then hit a two-run, inside-the-park homer in the 10th to knot the game up again before Tisdale finished off the win.

Mazz referred to the win as an "all-time great one."

After the game was over, there was a huge celebration on the field as players popped champagne and busted out t-shirts, just like you see in the big leagues. When my broadcast was over, I went down and shook hands with the guys, who promptly doused me with the bubbly and insisted I be in the team picture.

I don't think I slept at all that night. And it wasn't just because I had had a few sips of wine.

It had already been an amazing season, but now, we were going to the playoffs. And as they always say, once you get in, anything can happen.

The Crushers beat Kalamazoo in a hard-fought best-of-five semifinal series, setting up a date with the River City Rascals in the Frontier League Championship Series, also a best-of-five.

River City is located in O'Fallon, Missouri, a western suburb of St. Louis. On a good day, it's about a 10-hour bus ride from Avon. Because the Crushers lost the first two games of the series, it meant that they not only had to sweep the two games at home to stay alive, but get back on the bus for another long trip west in order to win the championship.

Fagan took care of matters in Game 3 back in Avon, pitching seven dominant innings in a 3-1 victory. Davis would provide the heroics in Game 4, breaking up a no-hitter in the fifth inning with a grand slam to lead Lake Erie to a 4-1 victory. Time to board the bus back to O'Fallon.

Game 5 would be on September 23, 2009. The Crushers once again rallied after being down early and would out-slug the Rascals in a 13-10 win to capture the Frontier League title.

The first time I my voice was ever heard on Channel 3 was during this piece that aired on the day after we won the title.

There was endless champagne on the field, and a victory party back at the team hotel. One thing hit me as that night wore on: This would probably be the last time that the entire team would be together at one time again. Many of the players were not heading back on the team bus, instead heading to their homes to begin the offseason.

Hugs and handshakes were just a little firmer once I realized that I may never see some of these guys again.

Once we returned home to Avon, it was time to get back to the business of life. But the Crushers were never far from my mind. I remember telling team GM Ryan Gates and other people in the organization that I'd love to come back for another summer as the team's play-by-play man. Why not, right? Mazz was coming back. So were Davis and Saylor.

But as the offseason went on, I wasn't hearing anything from the team. That is until Gates called me into the office in early 2010.

Ryan and I had become close down the stretch that season. He would often join me in the booth as my unofficial color commentator and we developed a nice rapport together.

I swear there were tears in his eyes when he told me that for reasons he didn't understand, Edelson had told him not to bring me back to the booth.

It was the first time I had ever been fired, so to speak, from a job. And eight years later, I still can't tell you why. Honestly, the reason doesn't matter. I just wished Edelson had told me himself instead of ordering a dear friend to deliver me the news.

I called Mazz after I left Gates' office and told him what had happened. His response was full of swear words.

I texted Saylor. More swear words.

But the most unkindest cut of all came when I realized that basically everyone in the organization received a championship ring, with the exception of yours truly.

That bitter pill took a long time to swallow.

Although I was not a 'full time' staff member, I was there every day with the team as a broadcaster and media representative. I rode the bus. I lived and died with each pitch during the championship run. I did my job to the best of my ability.

Yet, I was cast off and forgotten. So it was time to move on.

In the early summer of 2010, I was back at ESPN Cleveland, this time in-house as an anchor and producer. Although I did stay in touch with some of the guys, I rarely talked about my time with the Crushers from then on.

"Yeah it was nice, but it was really just another stop in my career," I would say when people would ask me about the summer of 2009.

I realize now that was just the bitterness talking.

I was pleasantly surprised to receive a phone call earlier this spring from Catie Graf, the Crushers' Director of Marketing and Promotions, inviting me to return to Avon for the team's 10-season anniversary celebration honoring the '09 champions.

My bitterness about the way my time ended with the Crushers has never prevented me from staying in touch with Mazz, Gates, some of the interns and staff members of the team, and several players. Saylor, in fact, was a guest at my 40th birthday party. I love those guys and always will.

The more I thought about it, I remembered too that I love that ballpark and treasure all of the memories from that magical summer.

Of course, I said yes. And I'm glad that I did.

The Crushers asked that I serve as the on-field emcee, introducing Massarelli, the coaching staff, and the ten or so players that came back for the celebration.

It felt like home.

Also, I spent an inning in my old radio booth with the current voice of the Crushers, Andy "Bull" Barch, who is a fellow Bowling Green State University grad and an old friend from my days at ESPN Cleveland.

The old jokes were back.

First baseman Eddie Tisdale recalled seeing Saylor at a coaches convention and imitated his former teammate's distinctive walk.

Some of Davis' favorite quotes, including "sorry 'bout it" and "figure it out" were chanted. Massarelli and Fagan were trying to figure out who started which games in the '09 postseason.

Mazz greeted me by saying "shoot the glass," clearly remembering his days looking like Mr. McClane.

A couple of the players, including outfielders Wayne Bond and Arden McWilliams, took batting practice with the current team.

Players reunited with host families and old friends. The memories were rekindled.

No, I didn't get my long-lost championship ring when I went back to Avon that night. The closest I came was getting a picture of reliever J.J. Pacella's ring during the evening.

But as I watched these old teammates and coaches reconnect and took a long look out at this place that I called home for four months, I realized there are many more important things in life.

The jewel that is the summer of 2009 is a precious moment in time that means a lot more than anything I could ever put on my finger.

Author's postscript: This story could not have been done without the assistance of David Richard from David Richard Photography as well as Mike Johns of ESPN. My sincerest thanks to the two of them for their assistance gathering archival photos and video.