The Heartbreak of the Broadcaster: A Look at Gary Cohen and the Postseason Dilemma
It was the ninth inning of a pivotal Game 3 between the New York Mets and the Milwaukee Brewers, a winner-take-all showdown that would determine who advanced to the National League Division Series. The Mets found themselves down by two runs, with two runners on base, and their star slugger, Pete Alonso, stepped up to the plate. The atmosphere in American Family Field was electric, a cacophony of hope and tension as fans held their breath, waiting for a moment that could change the course of their season.
However, one voice was notably absent from the scene. Gary Cohen, the legendary 36-year voice of the Mets, was not in the booth calling the game. Instead, he was in New York City, at the SNY studios, preparing for the post-game show. For Cohen, a lifelong Mets fan and a Queens native, this was a moment he had dreamed of since childhood, yet he found himself sidelined, unable to share in the excitement of the game he had dedicated his life to.
“It’s kind of a big deal,” Cohen remarked about the Mets’ postseason aspirations. “So no, it hasn’t gotten any easier. It still stinks just as much as it did the first time.” His words encapsulated the bittersweet reality faced by local broadcasters during the playoffs. While they have spent the entire season building a connection with fans, the postseason often sees them replaced by national broadcasters, leaving them to watch from afar.
The Magic of the Moment
As the game unfolded, Alonso delivered a season-saving three-run home run that sailed over the right-field wall. The crowd erupted, and Alonso, in a moment of pure joy, blew a kiss to the fans as he rounded first base, closed his eyes in ecstasy as he crossed third, and was met with a mob of teammates at home plate. It was a moment that would be etched in the memories of Mets fans forever.
But for Cohen, the thrill of the moment was bittersweet. ESPN held the rights to the Wild Card Series, and Cohen’s season had ended two weeks prior in Atlanta. He had called nearly every regular-season game, from the team’s dismal 0-5 start to the exhilarating clincher on the final day of the season. Yet, here he was, watching from a distance as Howie Rose, the Mets’ radio broadcaster, delivered the call of a lifetime. “He did it!” Rose exclaimed, his voice filled with excitement and passion, capturing the essence of the moment that Cohen could only witness from afar.
The Pain of Absence
Cohen’s situation is not unique. Across Major League Baseball, local broadcasters are often sidelined during the postseason, replaced by national voices who may not have the same emotional connection to the teams or their fans. This shift can leave both broadcasters and fans feeling disconnected. “It’s kind of like taking a transatlantic voyage on a ship, and then getting thrown overboard a mile from shore,” Cohen said, reflecting on the strange feeling of being so close yet so far from the action.
The emotional toll of this arrangement is palpable. Many broadcasters have expressed their desire to be part of the postseason experience, to share in the highs and lows of their teams as they battle for glory. “Imagine being a player and spending the entire season on the roster, and then being told you won’t be on the postseason roster,” one anonymous broadcaster lamented. This sentiment resonates deeply within the broadcasting community, where the desire to be present during the most critical moments is a shared longing.
A Different Perspective
While television broadcasters often find themselves on the sidelines, radio announcers maintain their roles throughout the postseason. This allows them to continue sharing the excitement with their loyal listeners. For Howie Rose, calling Alonso’s home run was a moment of pure joy, a chance to capture the exhilaration of the fans and the team. “He did it!” he shouted, fully immersed in the moment, while Cohen could only watch and feel a mix of pride and envy.
The contrast between the experiences of radio and television broadcasters highlights the unique challenges faced by those in the industry. While television offers greater visibility and recognition, it also comes with the understanding that postseason duties will be handed over to national broadcasters. This reality can leave a void for those who have spent the season building a rapport with fans.
The Call of the Game
As the postseason progresses, the emotional stakes rise, and the desire to be part of the action intensifies. Broadcasters like Brandon Gaudin, who transitioned from television to radio, have found fulfillment in being present for their teams during the playoffs. Gaudin, who experienced the thrill of a dramatic home run as a fan, reflected on the bittersweet nature of his dual role. “Did I think about that a couple moments after the home run happened? I did. I wondered what it would have been like,” he admitted, acknowledging the unique perspective of being both a broadcaster and a fan.
Len Kasper, who made the switch from television to radio, echoed similar sentiments. He wanted to feel connected to the postseason experience, to call the games that mattered most. “You want to feel like you’re a part of it,” he said, emphasizing the value of being present during the most significant moments of the season.
The Fans’ Perspective
For fans, the absence of their local broadcasters during the playoffs can create a sense of disconnection. The emotional bond formed over 162 games is suddenly interrupted, leaving fans longing for the familiar voices that have accompanied them through the highs and lows of the season. “Your connection with the broadcasters is stronger than any other sport because there’s 162,” said Dodgers broadcaster Joe Davis. “Just about all of them you’re spending with the two guys that are with the team.”
This connection is further complicated by the fact that baseball is inherently a local sport. While national broadcasts attract a broader audience, the emotional investment of local fans often lies with their team’s broadcasters. The frustration of being cut off from that connection during the playoffs can lead to feelings of dissatisfaction and a desire for a more localized experience.
The Future of Broadcasting
As the landscape of sports broadcasting continues to evolve, discussions about the role of local broadcasters in the postseason are becoming increasingly relevant. Some broadcasters have suggested exploring models that would allow local crews to participate alongside national broadcasts, similar to the “TeamStream” concept used during the NCAA Men’s Basketball Tournament. This approach could provide fans with the option to hear their familiar voices during the most critical moments of the season.
However, implementing such changes is not without its challenges. The financial agreements between MLB and its broadcast partners often dictate the terms of coverage, leaving little room for flexibility. As Cohen noted, “You’re a part of the fabric for six months. And then all of a sudden, you’re not.” This abrupt transition can be jarring for both broadcasters and fans alike.
In the end, the emotional landscape of postseason broadcasting remains complex. While national broadcasters bring their own excitement and expertise, the absence of local voices leaves a void that many feel deeply. As the postseason unfolds, the longing for connection and the desire to share in the triumphs and heartbreaks of the game continue to resonate within the hearts of broadcasters and fans alike.