I had gotten used to doing a radio show every day.  Did it for 9 years until an abrupt sidelining came in March of 2018.  You can read about that here if you want; perhaps you already have.

Danny Parkins and I were just getting going, having found our natural chemistry after a bumpy beginning.     

In the nearly 3 years since then, I have been awkwardly, vaguely employed at The Score.  I was lucky to be so, especially as the Pandemic hit and reshuffled all of our opportunities and priorities.

It was an ongoing, incredible gift to be able to talk and engage as vocation.  But I also had to emotionally manage the desire for a larger role, the relentless opportunity for resentment, and the confusion of the long term unknown.

This has been the source of repeated necessary reframing for the sake of mental health.  The assortment of thoughts that have come and gone with alarming regularity:

“This sucks.”

“In due time.  Stay cool.”

“I HAVE RAGE FOR CERTAIN PEOPLE AND FOR THE INDUSTRY AT LARGE.”   

“Rage doesn’t help…remember, resentment is poison.”

“You’re a lucky dude to get to talk sports and such as a job, full time or not.”

“I thank god for my amazing wife who works her butt off to support us while I wait this out.”

“Who the hell thought this new show I’m listening to was a good idea?”

“I wonder if I can make it to level 347 in Bricks ‘n’ Balls…”

“Oh, I’m on today!  Yes, I’ll be ready.”

“Money doesn’t define me, a job is not an identity.  Or….does it and is it?”

“Good vibes, Babe…follow your own advice.”

“Really, you’re fortunate to have all this time with your son as he hits 7, and 8, and 9….”

“Will I ever work full time again?”

Those thoughts can now be silenced.  The repetitive loop has been severed.

Thank you for your interaction and support during the hiatus.  It was meaningful.

I’m thrilled to return to the focus it takes to do good radio, every day.

Danny is so good.  His life and standing in the business have changed a lot in the nearly 3 years we have been separated; I’m really happy for him.  No one works harder and no one wants it more. The possibilities for what we can do as a team in this next iteration are really exciting.

This is where I’m supposed to be: talking sports and more with you, creating a daily space for connection and companionship.  There’s just nothing like it.  Don’t tell the bosses, but I would do it for free.

I’m super excited to resume, move forward creatively, and see where we can go.

The playoff exits were horrific, frustrating, and leave so many massive questions. There will be time to discuss and answer them all in the cold months ahead.

But…THEY PLAYED. In a year that has given us so little, stretching the limits of what we can all withstand, there was baseball.

Let’s remind ourselves, for now and for posterity, of what was good.

1. Two first place teams!  The Cubs spent the entire season there.  The White Sox, 25.  That means we had two first place teams for 25 days. 
2. Jose Abreu’s best professional season, after waiting his whole life for a team this good.
3. Yu Darvish’s steady dominance, after going through physical and psychological turmoil to start his Cubs career.
4. The players, coaches, and umpires, most of whom followed the strict health and safety protocols diligently for all of our benefit. 
5. Lucas Giolito’s no hitter.  A magical, communal viewing night that served to cement his transformation, and announce his arrival as a full blown Ace.
6. The Cubs 13-3 start, during which they showed us that this Last Dance group was not quite dead. 
7. The teams, radio and TV networks doing all they did to make the games feel as normal as possible.  The phony sound was great; we had the murmur! The cardboard cutouts were fun. Digital fans were not. 
8. Luis Robert comps that ranged from Clemente to Bo Jackson, to Eric Davis to Terrell Owens, and somehow he lived up to the hype. Remember the Wow moments.
9. Jason Heyward’s offensive resurgence. A terrific guy and teammate hit the ball hard all year.
10. You had 66 days of baseball distraction. A vessel for your feelings. As old friend Barry Rozner likes to say: “Sports matter because they don’t matter.” 
11. Tim Anderson confirming his greatness as a hitter and entertainer. He’s the Energizer Bunny baby. Pasta at his house, and then Barilla tweeted at him. His homer off Trevor Bauer, demanding Bauer “put him on his Youtube page,” and then Bauer did. 
12. The Cubs pitching infrastructure helping midseason to fix Jon Lester, Craig Kimbrel, and others….culminating in an incredibly unlikely no-hitter for Alec Mills. 
13. The unique viewing and listening opportunities these games provided. Hearing players chirp from the dugouts. Hearing home runs clank in the bleachers. Tejay Antone grunting, and being mocked deservedly.
14. The Cubs drafted Ed Howard! The video of Theo saying “we’ll be watching” the young Jackie Robinson West kids in the future, with young Ed in it, is now an all timer.
15. Garrett Crochet arriving and being an immediate, terrifying weapon. He was Baby Aroldis. 
16. Quick Pitch every morning!  And/or, scrolling through the highlights on the MLB At Bat app, feeling like you saw almost everything.
17. David Ross’ energy, honesty, and exuberance.   The lasting image for me: letting his dog run late at night at Wrigley after games. Wouldn’t you?
18. Eloy Jimenez’ shirt seemingly becoming more unbuttoned with every passing week.  His personality and easy power are a joy.
19. Anthony Rizzo’s long awaited emergence as a bona fide leader, emboldened by the management of his friend and mentor Ross.
20. They played a season. In this memorably horrific pandemic year, they actually, somehow, played. 

It’s time. The “Our Game” podcast is here. Matt dishing on baseball, Chicago focused but with a national eye, several times a week.

There’s music galore in it as well; episode 1 features Matt & Len Kasper’s band “Sonic45,” Gerald Dowd, The Sunshine Boys, and Curt Morrison of Tributosaurus.

Listen to Episode 1 here:

The great play-by-play man Jason Benetti and I had wanted to do something together. This is it. For far too long, baseball scouts have been comparing ballplayers to, well, only ballplayers. We all know that’s not a wide enough focus. Zoom out, people.

In Good Comp, Bad Comp, Benetti and I compare a ballplayer we appreciate to absolutely anything. We may go high-minded; a player has been a painter, a musician, a novel, and a TV series. Or we may go low brow; players have been likened to a milkshake, a tractor, and a big tall statue. You don’t know. Neither do we, until we do it.

Then you vote. Who got it righter? Or wrongest? You decide.

All episodes will be archived here.

Our most recent effort? The iconoclast Trevor Bauer.

Before that? The White Sox’ excellent veteran leader, Jose Abreu.

Vote here:

Previously, the HOF lock Albert Pujols.

Before this, we had finally gotten to a current guy for the first time, and of course it had to be the best player in the game. Mike Trout.

The first one was Bartolo Colon.

During the second one, we reveal who won the first one. And so on. And they told two friends. And so on.

The second one was Rickey Henderson. Spoiler alert: I nailed it.

Episode 3 is Randy Johnson. Obelisk or Novel? Watch.

Episode 4? The incomparable Old Hoss Radbourn.

Suggest candidates in the comments below.

Check back for COMP goodness; they’ll all be right here.