dtucker300 Loc: Vista, CA

Pull up a chair and hear Vin Scully give a message of hope and optimism

https://www.latimes.com/sports/dodgers/story/2020-03-22/vin-scully-singing-dodgers-amid-gloomy-times-c****av***s

By BILL PLASCHKECOLUMNIST
MARCH 22, 20205:34 PM
We are surrounded by a cacophony of chaos, our lives filled with words of warning and dread and doom.

I need a sound of spring. This being the formerly opening week of the postponed baseball season, I crave the melodious tones of the ballpark, the bunting, the hope.

So, what the heck, I call Vin Scully.

And, wouldn’t you know, he answers on the first ring.


“Hello Bill Plaschke, how are you?” he booms.

“I just wanted to hear your voice,” I say.

“Well, thank God it still works,” he says, laughing.

Scully, 92, has been out of the Dodgers broadcast booth for three seasons, yet his wonderfully spoken words still fill Dodger Stadium and the Dodgers airwaves in various promos and videos.

He still talks to us. We still listen to him. He can still connect and comfort in a manner unmatched by any other sports figure in this town’s history.

And, man, do we need some connecting and comforting.

“We’re like everybody else, we’re hunkered down,” says Scully, who is sheltering with wife Sandi in their Los Angeles home. “But for me, I’ve been hunkered down ever since we hung things up at the end of ‘16, I’m very accustomed to being at home …it’s that old line, if it wasn’t for doctor appointments we wouldn’t have a social life at all.”

Scully says he and Sandi are h*****g tough, and that he’s amazed he feels fine.

“That’s remarkable right now, I guess because I’m pretty much excommunicado with anybody except on the phones,” he says.

But emotionally, he’s hurting through his quarantine like everyone else, in ways few thought they would ever be hurting.

“Once in a while one of our children can come over and visit … we have a pretty large master bedroom, so they can sit quite a few feet away just to say hello,” he says. “But there’s no hugging and kissing and nothing like that … we’re trying very hard to follow the rules … the kids are scared that they will bring in something that will just blow me away … it’s a very difficult time to go without hugs, you know?”

Scully does not remain melancholy for long. He is, remember, a believer in improbable years and impossible home runs. He reminds us that this country has endured and triumphed over great troubles. He knows from personal experience. Born in 1927 and growing up during the Great Depression, he has been part of that journey.

”Among other things I remember my mother would feed me something that would fill me up and didn’t cost very much, I remember having pancakes for dinner and a lot of spaghetti,” he says. “We didn’t have any money anyway … meat was hard to come by … we bit the bullet.”

But then, he says, “From depths of depression we fought our way through World War II, and if we can do that, we can certainly fight through this. I remember how happy and relieved and thrilled everybody was … when they signed the treaty with Japan, and the country just danced from one way or another. It’s the life of the world, the ups and downs, this is a down, we’re going to have to realistically accept it at what it is and we’ll get out of it, that’s all there is to it, we will definitely get out of it.”

Vin Scully speaks during news conference at Dodger Stadium in 2013.
Vin Scully speaks during news conference at Dodger Stadium in 2013.(Nick Ut / Associated Press)
Scully, as usual, says he tries not to focus on the gloom, but ponder the good.

“A lot of people will look at it, it might bring them closer to their faith, they might pray a little harder, a little longer, there might be other good things to come out of it,” he says. “And certainly, I think people are especially jumping at the opportunity to help each other, I believe that’s true, so that’s kind of heartwarming, with all of it, it brings out some goodness in people, and that’s terrific, that’s terrific.”

There will be no Dodger Stadium roars this week, but Scully says that sort of home-team rooting has been replaced by applause of a different sort.

“All those first responders, people putting their lives on the lines, and we’re cheering that they’ll score a touchdown or hit a home run, wh**ever phrase you want to use, so I’m sure there’s a lot of praying going on and I’m all for it,” he says.

When the crisis does begin to slow, Scully says, we’ll know by the crack of the bat.

“If baseball starts up, we’ve got this thing beat and we can go about our lives,” Scully says. “Baseball is not a bad thermometer, when baseball begins, whenever that is, that will be a sure sign that the country is slowly getting back on its feet.”

Scully says the schedule will be forever altered, but also could be forever memorable.

“We’re not going to have a full season because this thing is burning up days like an express train,” he says. “But somewhere along the line, I hope and pray that baseball will start up, that will be so wonderful, that will be a rainbow after the storm, that, yeah, things are going to get better.”


Scully can’t wait for opening day, whenever that might be. He remembers his first opening day with the Brooklyn Dodgers in 1950 in Philadelphia like it was last week.

“It was opening day in Philadelphia and Don [Newcombe] was going to pitch, and I was going to do like, the fourth and the fifth innings, something like that ... so I thought, oh, that’s exciting, Don had a great year in ‘49, he was very personable, we got along so very well, so I was thrilled that I would have the opportunity,” Scully says with a laugh. “And he was knocked out of the game before my inning came up. We always kidded ourselves about that for years.”

Sure enough, a check of the records shows that Newcombe was shelled in the first inning of a 9-1 Phillies victory. But, also for the record, it did nothing to dampen Scully’s enthusiasm for opening-day’s magic.

“I think it’s breathtaking, it’s emotional, it’s reverential in many ways, and it’s thoughtful,” he says of opening day. “When the anthem is playing and you’re standing up in the booth waiting to go on the air, and this big crowd is quiet listening to the anthem, and then when the anthem ends and the crowd’s noise bursts forth like some fountain that had just been released, like a gusher in an oil field … I get goose bumps from the top of my head to the bottom of my toes … there’s really almost nothing like it, except maybe getting married or having your first child.”

While the country sits at home in front of televisions waiting for the next opening day, Scully encourages everyone to slowly exhale and then — you know Vin — embrace your inner musical.

Vin Scully sings “Take me out to the ballgame” during a game between the Dodgers and Arizona Diamondbaclks at Dodger Stadium in September 2011.
Vin Scully sings “Take me out to the ballgame” during a game between the Dodgers and Arizona Diamondbaclks at Dodger Stadium in September 2011.(Kevork Djansezian / Getty Images)
“I’m also playing a little psychology, I watched a favorite movie yesterday, ‘Music Man,’ Robert Preston, great, great musical,” he says. “Believe it or not, I dug out a copy that I had bought of ‘Singin’ in the Rain,’ I think we’ll watch that.”

If Scully could offer one piece of wisdom during these dark times, it’s that, truly, we need to sing in the rain.

“If I had to be stranded on a desert island and I was allowed to take one movie, it would be ‘Singin’ in the Rain,’ because, I would hope the whole world would watch that, because it’s so charming, so heartwarming, so optimistic,” he says. “You can’t watch ‘Singin’ in the Rain’ without singing along, humming along, watching Gene Kelly dance on the edge of the gutter and splash in the water … I think that’s what people should do, try to find the happiest movie they can.”

I just wanted to hear that voice. I ended up hearing so much more. If Vin Scully says there’s a rainbow out there somewhere, well, I’m going to start looking.

dtucker300 Loc: Vista, CA

Optimism – in the Age of C****av***s
Posted Monday, March 23, 2020 | By Robert B. Charles

What are you crazy? Pollyanna? Think the rest of us are nuts? How can you be optimistic in the age of c****av***s? Here is how. Follow me …

First, remember that bad news always squeezes out good. A 2014 McGill University study found journalists and readers tend to a “negativity bias.” We gravitate to bad news. Put differently, we are conditioned to sift news for the worst, as “bad news could be a signal that we need to change what we are doing to avoid danger” – even if the risk is low.

Similarly, readers react faster to “negative words.” Let’s see is that is – whoa, panic, death, global war, shocking, tragic, destruction, p******c – true. Versus: Stable, secure, people recovering, return to healthy, happy, peaceful, thoughtful. What do you think? We are all different, but perhaps there is some negative news bias – it grabs us.

Second, numbers remain comforting – even if the word comforting does not grab us. In 330 million Americans, we have 22,123 cases of c****av***s, and 282 have died. Your chance of contracting the v***s – on these numbers – is one in 14,916. Your chance of dying, one in 1,170,212.

For comparative purposes, annual data surrounding flu, which presents similar symptoms, offers comfort. Annually, between 16.5 and 66 million Americans get the flu. Roughly 200,000 are hospitalized, between 8200 and 20,000 die.

What does that data tell us? Beyond ease of t***smission, we have a sub-population perennially at-risk to any v***s. In a sense, the same precautions taken to avoid c****av***s t***smission should – logically – attach to flu. It can be serious for some.

Differences are four – which is why we are “socially distant.” First, we do not know how swiftly c****av***s is t***smitted. Second, we do not know which vulnerabilities make it serious. Third, we do not know why it progresses to pneumonia in a small percentage the vulnerable. Last, we are only learning the nature of recovery – how fast, what lingering effects. All that spells caution, not chaos.

The key is “not knowing.” Uncertainty – not death numbers – is why we are hunkered down. Keeping perspective is essential. Uncertainties exist around t***smission and recovery, but that does not make the v***s a Black Plague. It is not. It is simply new and has an uncharted t***smission and recovery curves.

Third, how about those recoveries? Not widely reported, they should be. Globally, a third of all confirmed cases have already recovered. Logic – and scarcity of test kits – suggests many more may have contracted and recovered. Those not dying are recovering.

Even in the US, recovery is seldom mentioned. Onset differs state by state, and we can expect new cases as test kits proliferate, but recovery is occurring. Like confirmed cases, recovery is tipping upward.

Globally we have seen – just now – 297,635 cases. We have also seen 94,625 recoveries. In the US, we came late to this party, and that is good. Our t***smissions are so far lighter and later since we shut down borders. That said, even now, we are getting recoveries. The point is that bad news – new cases and deaths – dominate, even as the good news is soft-pedaled.

Fourth, let’s take a longer view. The v***s will pass, likely in weeks. The retail impact will be sharp but softened by fiscal support to individuals, families, small and large businesses. Credit markets will stay functional with a strong, coordinated monetary policy. That is already happening.

Most of all, the US economy’s underpinnings – oil’s volatility aside – are strong. People will return to work after layoffs, income streams resume, and consumption revives. Since consumption drives recovery, the return should be reasonably quick.

Fifth, having survived this scare and shock, our country will be stronger than before c****av***s. Riding out a crisis, responding, and learning to be resilient creates a reservoir of confidence, strength, and preparedness. Again, many will say – are you nuts? The answer is no.

History teaches us, but so does experience. What do you see around you? Probably this: More pulling together than pulling apart, more discerning important from unimportant, more focus on family and neighbor than national bombast, more attention to detail, and appreciation for facts. All that is good.

What else? Perhaps a greater sense of personal, family, community, and national identity, a rising sense of cohesion and commonality, rather than default to differences, refuge in division. We are realizing – all at once and all together – how united we can be. In that realization is enormous hope.

Some of us saw this happen after 9-11. Some saw the default to kindness, reidentification of fellow Americans as kindred spirits, a recommitment to making us “one nation under God, indivisible.”

Older Americans saw this sentiment in other moments, good and bad, encouraging and frightening, after our extraordinary moon landing, in the wake of assassinations in the 1960s, Korean War, and WWII.

What offers hope – a well of optimism – is simple. We Americans do not like to admit to ourselves or others that we are, most of us, clear thinkers and can-do. We are good hearts. We do not take stock of this national characteristic often, but then we do not confront the need to pull together often, either.

Optimism – grounded and comforting – comes from knowing we have clarity of thought, even if we differ. We have a can-do history, character, and capacity. We know right from wrong, mercy from judgment, effort from jarring rhetoric. We know how to get things done – and we do. We always have.

Our post-c****av***s world will be different. We will be awake to hygiene, global connectivity on health. We will be prepared with crisis response tools, policies, strategies, practices, and public-private partnerships. We will rethink overdependence on China and the value in diverse supply chains. We will be ready for wh**ever comes next, in ways we would not have been without this p******c.

But most of all, we will be aware that – as a People, as individuals, families, communities, states, and a nation – we are ready, solid, resilient. Is that not good news, after recent ups and downs? Pollyanna? No.

We Americans know how to pull together when circumstances require. Our real challenge is remembering to value each other after this crisis passes, how to work together to when stakes are less immediate, concentrating on staying “one nation under God, indivisible.” I am optimistic.