Joe Castiglione is talking retirement
There are some moments in life that make you realize forever is just not a thing. Joe Castiglione retiring from the Red Sox broadcast booth Sunday was one those.
"Bradfo ... What's happening?!"
That would always be Joe's greeting upon either me walking into his baseball broadcast inner-sanctum, or his own entrance into the booth. The words and the greeting always somehow signaled the start of another day of baseball, more than anything else.
The bag full of pens, highlighters, media guides and scorebooks would then be placed down, with Joe taking his seat, shuffling some papers and then immediately talking about the topic of the day.
The conversation could be kicked off with the baseball news of the day, or a recap of some sort of kayak trip, bike ride or meal at one of the numerous Italian restaurants he knew the owner at.
In all the chaos and controversy that comes with eight months of a baseball season - for the media, the players, the teams, the fans and for me - Joe always supplied the foundation for why we keep coming back. It only made sense. Joe, after all, had been returning for it all over 42 years. He was reminding me of the reason every single time that door opened.
I will miss those moments. I'm not alone.
When the news was released Sunday afternoon after the third inning of the Red Sox' game in Yankee Stadium that Castiglione would be calling it quits when it came to being a full-time broadcaster, every baseball fan in New England were forced to come to grips with the same sort of new reality this decision had suddenly presented.
This piece of our lives was soon going to be a thing of the past.
For me, it was those daily introductions. For virtually every baseball fan in New England the losses might look somewhat different, but their impact and importance are likely just as powerful. It is Joe's voice, after all, that has always represented another season of baseball.
Baseball fans are good at properly celebrating the end for the players they follow. As a career comes to an end, the highlights and statistics are surfaced, with various levels of thanks being heaped on the athlete. It's the circle of life that comes with following this game. Dustin Pedroia, for instance, went from Rookie of the Year to retiring in seemingly a blink of an eye. You appreciate. You honor. And then you move on to searching for the next one.
Joe was different. He was always going to be the constant, regaling us with stories of the players who came and went, while giving us the soundtracks for both the present and future. Castig was all we knew and all we needed.
But now Joe has thrown us a curveball. We knew such an offering might be coming, but refrained from believing such a thing would ever truly be delivered.
That's our problem, not his.
At the age of 77 years old, Castiglione is the one seamlessly living his best life, finally getting a chance to spend the vast majority of his time with his wife, Jan, children and grandchildren. They will all still be able to tag along their grandfather in the Fenway dugout or press box, but now time together after those pregames will be even more memorable for those who matter most.
Now we have to adjust. Those euphoric Yankee score updates when the New Yorkers were losing will be a thing of the past, as will all those voice inflections which paint the Red Sox' lot in life. The self-deprecating sense of humor. The stem to stern preparation. The sign-ons. The sign-offs. All moving on.
Life will go on, as it always does. But when it comes to listening the rhythms of a Red Sox baseball game, it just will never be the same. There is only one forever in this equation: The joy that Joe Castiglione implanted in us all.
For that, we thank you Joe. That's what's happening, my friend.