An April Snapshot: An Inauguration. Baseball. The Masters

  I had never been to an inauguration. Sure, I have watched countless U.S. Presidential inaugurations on television. The air of formality and tradition was evident, even from the limited views television provided. And it always seemed to be really cold every January when it was time to swear in the leader of our nation. 

Since I have knowledge of the U.S. Capitol building from my six month internship in the Houser of Representatives, I always marveled how an entire platform was constructed on the steps of the building, under the supervision of the Architect of the Capitol. The majestic view outward allowed for the President and guests to view the beautiful vista of the DC skyline and the thousands of citizens who braved the freezing temperatures to watch the spectacle so critical to the seamless tradition of power in our democracy, 

I have never wanted to be a part of that, largely because of the weather. I hate going to football games in January because of how cold I remain despite the layers of clothing I wear and the number of strategically-placed warmers I secrete around my body.

So, while it wasn’t on my bucket list, when I received an invitation to attend the inauguration of Andrew Rich as the 17th President of my alma mater, Franklin and Marshall College, I thought this might be something I would like to see. After all, it was in April and it would be held indoors at the college’s Alumni Sports & Fitness Center. A win-win in terms of comfort. 

I have gotten to know President Rich from a trip to Hudson Yards in Manhattan to listen to him and others speak on Athletics and Greek Life at the college. His invitation to hear from those present on any matter related to the school spurred me to write to him. It culminated in a 35 minute phone conversation in February which gave me greater insight into a man who I believed was ready to take the college to new heights while restoring its place among the more prestigious institutions of higher education. 

I figured there certainly would be pomp and circumstances associated with the ceremony. Along with speeches. I wasn’t wrong. 

The ASFC dazzled in blue and white, the college’s colors. A stage was set up with supporting video screens behind it—a nod to the age we live in. Yet old-fashioned wooden chairs with the F&M insignia were grouped together on the podium in reverence to the heritage of the school. 

For tradition was what the ceremony was about. Colleges in the Northeast sent representatives to the event. Professors marched in along with members of the Board of Trustees, past and present. All were adorned in the robes of their respective colleges and universities. It was a cacophony of colors. 

Part of the formal aspect of this installation was the leading of the procession with the College’s mace. It is a replica of the towers of Old Main, the most prominent building on campus, built on the highest spot in the City of Lancaster, where hangings were previously held. What I didn’t know was that mace dates back only to the 1967-68 academic year—the year before I began attending Franklin and Marshall. Inside the metal replica is a portion of a wood beam from the original Franklin College, the forerunner to the present school. 

A beautiful collegiate orchestra serenaded the guests. Speeches galore were the order of the day. Some serious and some were light-hearted and anecdotal. The incoming President’s father, a retired academician of some note at the University of Delaware, along with a former F&M graduate, now part of Governor Josh Shapiro’s cabinet, who was associated with President Rich as a Truman Scholar, were especially poignant as well as relevant. 

Before the installation, the Presidential Medallion was conferred. Then Andy Rich, as he likes to be referred to, spoke to the the assemblage. He laid out his vision for the future of the college in bold and unmistakable terms. 

If his words are true and he is as captivating as he speaks, then Franklin and Marshall absolutely made the right choice as a leader. Even if he might have been campaigning for the job as a guest at a wedding, strategically seated next to a prominent member of the Search Committee. 

With the bells of Old Main tolling via tape after a rendition of the Alma Mater, the recessional started. We lunched with friends and guests. I introduced myself to Andy. It was a joyous celebration of the life of a fine academic institution. My wife and I couldn’t have enjoyed it better. I felt comfort and honor for my college. 

As the bevy of workers tore down the stage and all the trimmings, the vacant area made me think about how quickly the construction at the U.S. Capitol is removed for another four years, only to be rebuilt anew. While costly to put on, ceremonies last just so long but are seared into memory for a lifetime. 

Not to disappoint, there was an extra element to our trip to Lancaster. It was time to see my team play Mc Daniel College in a baseball doubleheader. I call it “my” team because I played for baseball at F&M. I have a team cap given to me by the current coach, a sweatshirt for F&M Baseball, and a retired uniform similar to what we wore in 1970 bearing my number 25. I am always all in on F&M Baseball. 

We caught the last three innings of the first game. F&M staged a rally in the bottom of the seventh inning, closing the gap from 11-1 to 11-6, thus avoiding the dreaded 10 run rule and ending the game after 7 innings. 

It was breezy and clear, with temperatures hovering around 60 degrees. The field never looked better. The grass was green and lush. The infield dirt stayed finely manicured. It was a perfect setting. 

Unfortunately, the Diplomats bats went silent and the 11-6 score became final. The team lost the nightcap 6-1, dropping them to 4-6 in the conference and with a 6-8 record at home. 

Nine games remain on the schedule. Home and home Tuesday-Friday contests with Washington College and #21 Gettysburg are sandwiched around two road doubleheaders at Dickinson College and at Muhlenberg. A non-conference game at the nearby Penn Medicine Park versus local rival Lancaster Bible is also to be played. 

Currently, the team is tied at the bottom of the Centennial Conference standings with five other schools which include Dickinson and Muhlenberg. Washington College and Mc Daniel are ahead of that group at 5-5. Highly-ranked Johns Hopkins and Gettysburg lead the pack.

It’s going to be tough for the Diplomats to make the playoffs, as Mc Daniel and Swarthmore hold tiebreakers over F&M. F&M must win the six games against Washington, Dickinson and Muhlenberg to securely make the playoffs. 

With what appears to be a muddled pitching staff which has a cumulative 6.50 ERA, that makes the chances more problematic, given that eleven F&M players sport batting averages well over .300. It is not insurmountable, but the odds aren’t in favor of F&M unless the pitching warms up with the weather as April heats up. 

Less that 24 hours later, we were seated on the outfield bleachers at renovated Bainton Field, the home of the Rutgers Scarlet Knights. The place looks more collegiate and at a DI level, although it pales in comparison with other Big Ten rivals home fields. 

The attraction this day was the final game of a three game series with #1 UCLA. It is rare that any #1 team visits Piscataway for games. I can recall #1 Purdue coming to Jersey Mike’s Arena this fall for basketball. #1 Ohio State came to SHI Stadium in 2023. I am confident that RU has played against #1 teams in men’s lacrosse before.

But this was the first time I can recall that a number one baseball team would be playing at RU. So I had to be present to take it all in.

The temperature was in the upper 50’s and the skies again were clear. There was a slight breeze blowing in and towards right field. 

When we arrived, UCLA was ahead 1-0. This was unsurprising since the Bruins won Game 1 by a score of 4-1 in 14 innings. 

What made the series opener remarkable was the strikeout totals for Rutgers. The starter, a transfer from San Diego where he was a first team WCC selection, pitched 8 innings. He struck out 18 RU hitters while only allowing the one run. In total, RU batters were fanned an incredible 30 times. 

Game 2 was no better for the Scarlet Knights. They lost 7-1. At least UCLA registered only 10 RU strikeouts in that contest. 

From what I saw of UCLA in Game 3, the hitters were better than RU and the pitching was far superior. One relief pitcher for UCLA consistently registered 98 mph on the speed gun for his pitches. That’s MLB level talent. 

It was no contest in the finale. RU did score 2 runs, but on only 2 hits. They did commit 3 errors while surrendering 14 hits.

Totals for the weekend: UCLA 20 runs scored; 37 hits; 4 home runs and 8 extra base hits; 0 errors. Meanwhile, Rutgers managed to score 4 runs with 11 base hits, 1 home run and 3 extra base hits; RU committed 5 errors. 

The disparity was great in all facets of the game. I am guessing that there were a number of future pros in the Bruin lineup, starting with their shortstop Roch Cholowsky, believed to be the number one pick in the next MLB Draft. Cholowsky went 2 for 12 against RU with a couple of walks and 1 RBI. I know he was the collegiate player of the year in 2025. I know he is hitting .332 with 13 home runs and 32 RBI. He did not impress me at all. 

UCLA now sports a record of 33-2 and is 16-0 in Big Ten action. The Bruins have won 27 straight games. RU fell to 17-18 and 5-10 in conference. 

Rutgers gets a breather with Marist coming to town. UC Santa Barbara is UCLA’s next likely victim. RU has to go to Los Angeles soon to play USC. UCLA has one more out of time zone road trip to Michigan State. 

Look for UCLA to be in Omaha for the College World Series. Look for Rutgers to try to make better strides as the season progresses. 

Then there’s the Yankees. Off to a blazing start, the Bombers fell off the table once they played the A’s. And it followed with a clunker of a series at Tampa Bay. Five straight losses, six out of seven total. 

It took a crazy game on a crazy night to stop the bleeding. Barely. On an unseasonably warm April night, the somnambulant Yankees bats came alive. To the tune of five home runs, two each by Aaron Judge and Trent Grisham, the latter coming off the bench to spark the team twice, including a game-tying blast in the ninth inning. NYY had to overcome shaky pitching, two homers by the Angels’ Mike Trout, who is back to being one of the best players in the game after having been beset with injuries and then relied on a wild pitch to score the winning run. Of note, many M.V.P. winners took part in the game—Judge, Trout, Cody Bellinger, Giancarlo Stanton and Paul Goldschmidt

One game hardly makes a season. Maybe this kind of nutty game can be the jolt which the team needed. What the Yankees still require are productive at bats from guys not named Judge, Ben Rice or Giancarlo Stanton. And more reliable relief pitching—Jake Bird was sent to the minors after his disastrous game last night. 

By the way, nine players hit multiple homers on Monday. That is amazing. What’s more amazing is that the record is an incredible ten players accomplished that feat on September 10, 2019 and that nine players have hit multiple home runs on five other occasions.

Finally, a few comments about the Masters. Rory McIroy, the Northern Ireland golfer, took home his second consecutive green jacket with his win on Sunday. He joins Jack Nicklaus, Nick Faldo and Tiger Woods in that rare company. 

McIlroy leaped out to a sizable lead on Thursday. That lead kept getting reduced until during Sunday’s final round, he found himself trailing a couple of golfers at a number of different holes. 

Then Mc Ilroy did what champions do. He hit shots that catapulted him into the lead while others fell off the pace. And he survived his near-undoing from a bad shot on the final hole to survive by one shot over a hard-charging Scottie Scheffler. 

It was good theater on the most picturesque golf course in this country. I enjoyed the drama and the artistry. This is the one tournament which, to me, outshines the others. 

This was an April snapshot. An Inauguration. Baseball. And The Masters. 

End Games

  College basketball came to a not-so-thrilling end on Monday night. That’s because the game was one-sided. Sure, the 69-63 final score made it feel like the game was a close one, but it really wasn’t. 

U Conn’s hope of another miracle over a top-tier opponent never materialized. Largely because the height and athleticism of the Wolverines never let the Huskies get untracked. 

U Conn statistics show the troubles that they had against a superior team. U Conn shot 21 for 68, which included making 9 of 33 three point attempts. The Huskies added 12 free throws made out of 16 attempts. 

Michigan made the same number of shots in just 55 attempts. The Wolverines were putrid from beyond the arc, making only 2 shots. 

The difference was at the foul line where Michigan converted 25 of 28 free throws. Because U Conn fouled too much due to Michigan’s height and speed. 

Michigan deserved to win this tournament. They trampled on all of the teams they faced, including vanquishing a very good Arizona squad in the semi-finals. Hail to the Victors. 

On the women’s side, UCLA continued to show how good a team it was when it trampled South Carolina for the national title. That was an inevitable outcome, given that South Carolina had put everything into an emotional defeat of previously-undefeated U Conn in the semi-finals. 

Unfortunately, that matchup on Friday night produced an ugly post-game confrontation between storied U Conn head coach Geno Auriemma and South Carolina’s worthy adversary, Dawn Staley. Whatever the reasons, whether Auriemma had a legitimate gripe with Staley over pre-game handshakes or it was frustration which got him steamed, the two Philadelphia natives acted out on the grand stage. It was bad and not good for women’s basketball. 

In DIII action, the University of Mary Washington downed Emory University on a last-second put back of an errant shot. The euphoria which followed was a nice contrast to the ugliness of the Auriemma-Staley tiff and the relatively uncompetitive Final Four for the DI men. 

Remaining in Division III, kudos to the Hamilton men’s hockey team. The Continentals knocked off top-seeded and prohibitive favorite Hobart in overtime to win the 2026 title.

That provides me with a segue into what my family and two friends were up to this weekend. Hockey. 

But not just any hockey game. A game with one meaning to us and a far different meaning to the two teams who had tangled the night before.

We were in Montreal. Montreal might be to hockey what baseball is to Yankee Stadium or football to Green Bay. The meccas of the sport. 

Until 1967, there were only six teams in the National Hockey League. Four located were in the United States (New York, Boston, Chicago and Detroit) and two in Canada (Montreal and Toronto). So the teams played each other a lot over the course of a season. 

My first exposure to the NHL was watching Saturday afternoon games televised on CBS. More often than not, the teams hosting the contests were Boston, Detroit and Chicago. I thought of the Olympia in Detroit, Chicago Stadium and Boston Garden as revered places. 

Montreal and Toronto were fixtures on Saturday nights in their respective buildings, with the games broadcast on CBC, the Canadian national television network. (We didn’t get any New York Rangers games on CBS because the team was bad and the ownership preferred to try to maximize the live gate, which meant no local TV). As historical as the American arenas were, the Montreal Forum and Maple Leaf Gardens in Toronto were hallowed ground. 

I became intimate with the players of the era. Gordie Howe, Bobby Hull, Terry Sawchuck and Glenn Hall were stars in Detroit and Chicago. Occasionally we would see a game with Montreal or Toronto, whose stars included the Mahovolich brothers in Toronto and  Jacques Plante, Jean Beliveau and a lot of other French-sounding names. 

My first live hockey game was on my ninth birthday. It was a Chicago Blackhawks-New York Rangers at the old MSG on 8th Avenue and 49th Street. My eyes were wide open the entire time. NYR won 6-2. I became a true Rangers fan that day. 

My hockey thirst was satisfied with the games which were aired on WOR, Channel 9 in New York. They aired on Saturday nights mostly from Canada, with the teams taking the train overnight to New York for the second clash. I knew all of the players. 

I kept my keen interest in hockey as the NHL expanded with six more franchises in 1967. I watched the national games on NBC and ABC. 

As the league expanded again, I became enthralled with the new team in the area—the New York Islanders. Their away games were televised just like the Rangers. I eventually made it to the Nassau Veterans Memorial Coliseum multiple times to see the Isles host Washington, Montreal, Pittsburgh and the Rangers. 

When I had the opportunity, I went in for Rangers season tickets. For 10 years I watched the Rangers at the Garden host everybody. The battles with the Islanders and Flyers were special. 

So were the players. Esposito. Greschner. Duguay. Davidson. Maloney. Beck. Cable TV let me see all of the games, so I was never at loss for hockey. 

Through the years the Rangers got better. The atmosphere was electric and loud. I made the trek into Manhattan and knew the best ways and times to get in, find street parking and get back through the Lincoln Tunnel to New Jersey. 

Life ended my affair with the Rangers as a season ticket holder. I had a wife and child (the second one would come soon) and the demands of work simply wouldn’t let me have the free time necessary to go anymore. 

Then the Colorado franchise was relocated to New Jersey. To a new arena in the New Jersey Meadowlands. 

They weren’t very good. Seats were available. I had friends who would take me. And finally I had a small share of a partial plan for the games. My allegiance shifted. 

This allowed me to see the glory years of the franchise. I was present in 1996 when the team swept the Detroit Red Wings and paraded the Stanley Cup around the ice. It was an incredible night, one seared in my mind forever. 

I was now a New Jersey Devils fan for life. The New York Rangers were the hated enemy. 

Whether at the Continental Airlines Arena (formerly the Brendan Byrne Arena named after the sitting NJ Governor) or now at the Prudential Center in Newark, I felt the joy and enthusiasm of the home crowd. 

I embraced this love for the team by taking my children to games. Which I still do in various ways. I went this season with my daughter and wife to see the Capitals play the Devils. 

Which is why I am writing about my most recent Devils game. It was this past Saturday night. It kept me from seeing the NCAA Men’s Semi-Finals. 

The Devils were in Montreal. I was with family and friends at the Bell Centre, the successor to the Forum. And I couldn’t have been happier. 

How did this come about? My son convinced me to go see the Devils in either Toronto or Montreal, knowing how I felt about the game and its roots. 

I picked Toronto, a city I had been to twice previously, largely because it was English-speaking and I had a somewhat unpleasant language-barrier experience in Montreal in 1983. Besides, I felt more comfortable in Toronto and liked its cleanliness and big city atmosphere. 

We have been to the Air Canada Centre twice—once to see the Devils lose to the Leafs and then many years later, on a whim, we saw Montreal and Toronto tangle in a memorable 0-0 game in regulation, won by the Leafs in OT. I was stunned by the number of Montreal jerseys worn in enemy territory.  

We had such a great time in Toronto despite the Devils losing. We went to the Ontario Parliament. I stopped to watch criminal court—wigs on the judge and attorneys. My son hit his favorite South African eatery—Nando’s (he spent a semester in college and as summer during law school over there). All this despite having a shoulder injury which limited me a little. 

Based on a comment from him offering to go see the Devils play in all Canadian cities, the Sperber Canadian Hockey Tour was born. It sounded crazy as much as it could be glorious. 

Off we went to Edmonton, where we landed in Restaurant Week—and found Nando’s again. The Devils won that game and we enjoyed Rogers Place, definitely the most beautiful arena on our tour. 

We continued on to Vancouver. Where I became very ill, having eaten something that just didn’t agree with my stomach. Somehow I recovered in time to see the Devils win in a shootout. Chicken noodle soup from a store, a pretzel and Gatorade at the game saved me. While the Rogers Arena once hosted the Olympics, it looked tired and old. 

The same description applied to the Saddledome in Calgary, where it was bitter cold in December. While NJD won the game, we returned to the States with me having a third bout with COVID and my son’s car damaged while parked on the streets of Queens. 

I liked Winnipeg and the Canada Life Centre downtown. I barely avoided a brawl with a restaurant host before the Sunday night game, as he inappropriately chided me about my NJD jacket. NJD won again. 

An enjoyable stop was snowy Ottawa in January. We toured Parliament and the Supreme Court. We trekked to the Canadian Tire Arena way outside town to see another NJD loss. 

What was left was the pinnacle of hockey fandom. Montreal loves its Canadiens. It’s everything to them—since the Expos are long gone, having relocated to Washington, D.C. playing baseball under an assumed name. 

Bleu, Blanc and Rouge jerseys and emblems abounded throughout the city. The civic pride regarding their team—“Les Habitants”, which translates to the residents—was enormous. 

We arrived at the Bell Centre early. The place was abuzz. All around the outside were reminders of who excelled wearing the Canadiens jersey and plaques memorializing the 24 Stanley Cup championships. 

The corridors were packed with fans. Three-quarters of the stands were full before warmups began. Chants arose early—“Let’s Go Habs” reverberated around the building. The organist performed for nearly an hour before the start of the game. 

It was a huge thrill to sing the Canadian National Anthem in French. I thought of the famous singer Roger Doucet who sang it at the Forum in my youth. 

The atmosphere was unlike any regular season game I had attended. It was more like a playoff game. Loud, partisan and electric. 

New Jersey won the match by a 3-0 score. They have won an amazing 11 in a row at the Bell Centre. Montreal fans let NJD and Olympic star Jack Hughes know they disliked him for sending the Canadian Olympic team to defeat in Milan in February. They cheered heartily when he made a mistake or was hit with a hard check. 

While I sampled the cuisine at Montreal Bagel and Schwartz’s Deli, a landmark eatery partially owned by Celine Dion, I still wasn’t enamored with the city. Perhaps the cold, rain, sleet and snow had something to do with it, along with the lack of buds on any trees? 

Yet my son and I finished our “Tour de Canada” thoroughly convinced that Montreal was the best venue—by a mile. Having been to hockey-crazed places in the US and Canada, there was no comparison. 

We had to wait a long while due to intervening illnesses and surgeries. That wait made this trip more special in terms of the overall experience of Montreal Canadiens hockey. 

Am I done traveling to see hockey? Not quite. I have seen the Bruins and Rangers play. Montreal and Toronto, too. That leaves Chicago and Detroit for me to complete a cycle within the Original Six teams. As for the Devils, road games in Philadelphia and maybe Las Vegas await; I have seen the team play at MSG, on Long Island and in Pittsburgh. 

Final victory tally: NJD 5-2; OTT 1-0; TOR 1-1; MTL 0-2; WIN, CGY, EDM & VAN 0-1. Best cities: Ottawa, Toronto and Winnipeg. Top fans: Montreal, Edmonton & Toronto. 

The NCAA’s and NJD-MTL have one thing in common. They were end games.