Postseason Broadcasts Fail to Tell the Deeper Story

Postseason Broadcasts Fail to Tell the Deeper Story

If he was alive today, Ivan Pavlov would get a kick out of baseball broadcasting. Just as he trained his dogs to salivate at the sound of a bell ringing, announcers have become conditioned to respond to events on the field. For example, if the batter slaps a single the opposite way, the automatic Pavlovian response is, “good piece of hitting.” Most of the time, we, the viewers, are so acclimated to these clichés that we don’t even notice them, but the unique nature of playoff baseball creates new, problematic autoresponses.

Two of the loveable heroes of the Tampa Bay Rays’ playoff run have been Randy Arozarena—defected from Cuba, played in Mexico, then signed with the Cardinals— and Pete Fairbanks—went to Mizzou, had two Tommy John surgeries. Those descriptors have been repeated so often they may as well appear on their driver’s licenses. In 1993, Mr. and Mrs. Fairbanks had the incredible foresight to write “went to Mizzou, had two Tommy John surgeries” on baby Pete’s birth certificate.

The Rays have now played 14 nationally broadcast postseason games this year with 4-7 more to come in the World Series. Press kits are written for a national audience with just a quick quip on each player, enough to summarize their story in the interstitial between pitches. That’s sufficient during the regular season when a team might be nationally broadcast just a few times over several months. As we get deep into October though, we’d like to get the feel of a club’s DNA, but the broadcasters still haven’t taught us much more about Randy Arozarena—defected from Cuba, played in Mexico, then signed with the Cardinals— and Pete Fairbanks—went to Mizzou, had two Tommy John surgeries. We’ve eaten the same appetizer for three weeks without getting the main course.

This is a disservice not just to the viewers and fans, but to the players themselves. In the cases of Randy Arozarena—defected from Cuba, played in Mexico, then signed with the Cardinals— and Pete Fairbanks—went to Mizzou, had two Tommy John surgeries— these autonomic reflexive descriptors whitewash the harrowing tribulations both players overcame. Those tidy little sound clips ignore incredible anguish, determination, and triumph.

Randy Arozarena—defected from Cuba, played in Mexico, then signed with the Cardinals

Randy Arozarena starred for Vegueros de Pinar del Río in the Cuban National Series at the ages of 18 and 19. His youth and talent made him an ideal candidate for defection from his homeland. That’s not nearly as simple as going away to college, like so many Americans at that age. He had to say goodbye to his mother knowing he might never see her again, and that she could be jailed and tortured for his decision to flee. He could have gotten caught, which meant the possibility of jail and torture for himself. Even if he escaped the island, he could’ve died at sea.As he told MLB.com’s Juan Toribio, “There’s been people that are out in the ocean for days, months, and there are others that don’t make it because they die. But when you’re in one of those fake boats in the middle of the Gulf of Mexico, the only thing you could do is hope that you survive.” Few of us have ever had to make such difficult choices in our lives.

Then there was the interminable 15-month wait in Mexico for papers to clear before he could play ball. Most likely, the smugglers who aided his defection kept him under close watch,as described in Yasiel Puig’s defection story. Even once he was finally allowed to play again in 2016, he had no guarantee an MLB club would pay him a worthwhile signing bonus, or that he would make the major leagues at all.MLB’s convoluted international amateur signing rules artificially repress bonuses for kids like Arozarena, and even after signing, prospects flame out all the time before reaching the majors.

Despite everything he’d been through, he showed enough potential in Mexico to earn a $1.25 million bonus from the Cardinals. Once you take out taxes and fees for his agent— and probably a much heftier cut for the smugglers— who knows how much he pocketed? Nevertheless, he persevered through the minor leagues, got traded along the way, survived COVID-19 in July, and won the ALCS MVP.

Pete Fairbanks—went to Mizzou, had two Tommy John surgeries

Pete Fairbanks probably should’ve given up the first time he had Tommy John surgery as a high school junior. If anything,he had a brighter future in basketball after setting his high school’s record for three-pointers and only placing third-team all-conference as a pitcher and outfielder. Besides, the grueling recovery from Tommy John is often unseen by fans,but the physical and psychological toll it takes on an athlete is enormous. Many suffer from severe depression and mental health issues in addition to arduous physical therapy,as detailed in “The Arm” by Jeff Passon. For a kid in high school, it’s much easier to just walk away from the sport altogether and get on with your life.

Still, he was driven to play for the University of Missouri, just like his father (baseball) and grandfather (football). He threw a combined 15 innings as a freshman for Mizzou and Hyannis of the Cape Cod League. As a sophomore, he pitched much more, but not necessarily well, striking out just 44 batters in 96 innings for Mizzou and Hyannis once again. His results improved substantially as a junior, and he signed with the Texas Rangers as a ninth-round pick. However, he struggled to miss bats in the low minors and found himself relegated to the bullpen permanently at Low-A Hickory in 2016. Nine games into the 2017 season, his arm snapped again.

Once more, he almost certainly should have given up.Pitchers who endure two Tommy John surgeries have much lower success rates than those who have “just” one. He was a late-round non-prospect relief pitcher floundering in A-ball, scheduled to go under the knife a second time. Professional hitters and his own mangled arm ligament tried to coerce him to quit baseball. At 23, he could’ve gone back to school and become anything he wanted. Despite having already lived through the torment of Tommy John surgery and recovery, he decided to stick it out. That meant another year-and-a-half of purgatorial anguish as his teammates moved on and his friends settled into adulthood— getting married, starting careers, and beginning their lives.

When he finally took the mound again in 2019, his fastball came alive like never before, and hedoubledhis strikeout rate from the low minors. He wore six different uniforms that year: High-A Down East, Double-A Frisco, Triple-A Round Rock, and finally on June 9 the Texas Rangers. His Frankensteined arm had become so electric that he was traded for a valuable prospect in July, adding two more uniforms to his wardrobe: Triple-A Durham and the Tampa Bay Rays. Now he’s one of the centerpieces of a World Series-caliber bullpen.

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The beauty of local broadcasts that follow a team throughout the season is that they can dig into the personal stories of each character. They enable fans to learn about not just each players’ style and personality, but also their lived history. They can capture the struggles and emotional hardships of their journeys to the major leagues and your TV screen. As a result, we’re not just “rooting for laundry;” we get attached to the human beings inside those uniforms. That’s why it’s so elating when your favorite team wins and crushing when they lose; it’s why we use “we” and “us” instead of “they” and “them.” We make real connections.

National broadcasts don’t have that luxury during the regular season. They only have time for a quick snapshot in between pitches, then the nomadic media herd moves on to a different team in a different city. They’re tourists, not residents. That’s fine! There’s nothing wrong with tourism; it’s fun to visit a different team than you normally get to watch and learn a little bit about them.

During October, that tourism becomes an extended stay for teams that last into the Championship Series and especially the World Series. The same clubs are broadcast nationally for a whole month. As fans, we deserve the chance to make a deeper connection with our adopted playoff teams. The players themselves deserve to have their stories unfurled for the larger audience.

Instead, the press kits remain shallow. We hear the same surface level refrain over and over— Randy Arozarena—defected from Cuba, played in Mexico, then signed with the Cardinals— and Pete Fairbanks—went to Mizzou, had two Tommy John surgeries. The unwillingness to adjust, adapt, and grow by national media means we lose the opportunity to make connections. Players’ lives are more than just a Pavlovian “good piece of hitting” response. Broadcasters should use the available time to tell their deeper stories over the course of the postseason.