A Voice For The Ages In the ultimate man's world, history-making Yankees announcer Suzyn Waldman is a modern-day Yentl. CURT SCHLEIER Special to the Jewish News S he is surrounded by the ghosts of heroes: Ruth, Gehrig, Joltin Joe and The Mick. But in seeking a parallel for her history-making and insult-enduring journey into the press box at Yankee Stadium, Suzyn Waldman looks beyond the hallowed ground of Monument Park in center field. For the simple fate of being a woman in the ultimate man's world — a Major League Baseball locker room — Waldman has been screamed at, in Spanish and English, by slugger George Bell; spat at by a fiery Mets infielder; cursed at by a sullen first baseman (she asks that their names not be men- tioned). And that's only the stuff that can be printed in a family newspaper. All of it brought to mind a hero of a different sort, or should we say heroine? For Waldman, the title character in Isaac Bashevis Singer's classic tale "Yend, the Yeshiva Boy" — about a woman in another kind of man's world, the world of Torah study — offers a literary, and real-life, role model. "I read that when I was a kid," Waldman says in a recent interview. "I didn't understand why, when she had something to contribute, she couldn't because she was a woman. I think even now I walk into a room full of people and I'm tolerated, but I'm not really accepted. "It is very similar to being Jewish," she continues. "There can't be any outward signs of prejudice against women; it's against the law. Is that similar to anti- Semitism? Sure." She didn't have to dress like a yeshiva bocher but like Yend, Waldman, 58, has blazed a trail for nearly two decades, breaking through one sexist barrier after another that kept women from covering men's sports. She was the first woman reporter on WFAN, the all-sports talk radio network based in New York, and the first woman to do play-by-play on a Yankees television broadcast when she called games for WPIX and the MSG network in the mid-1990s. Another first took place last month when Waldman joined the team that broadcast the Yankees home opener against the archrival Boston Red Sox on WCBS radio. She is the first woman to become a full-time color commentator in Major League Baseball history. It hasn't been easy. "When you're a woman in this busi- ness, you're not wanted," says Waldman, a longtime resident of northern Westchester County. "I've known that since I first started this job." For example in 1987, Bell wasn't talk- ing to the New York media, thinking they had cost him the Most Valuable Player award the year earlier. When Waldman, new on the beat, approached the slugging Toronto Blue Jays outfielder in the locker room, Bell started scream- ing at her in Spanish and English. "At the time I was a little less tough than I am now," she recalls. "Tears welled up in my eyes, and I said I better get out of there." But as she left, one of Bell's team- mates, Jesse Barfield, called out to her: "Suzyn, I went three for four today. Don't you want to ask me any ques- tions?" Waldman's tougher now, simply by nature of the fact that she's a native of Newton, Mass., a suburb of Boston, working for the Red Sox's nemesis — with a pretty thick Boston accent, to boot. Her grandfather had season tickets to the Red Sox. Every Saturday he would take her to Harvard football games. She'd see the Celtics play, and it never occurred to her that being a sports fan was improper or unladylike. "I always saw women at the park," Waldman says. "My mother was a fan, my aunts, the nuns that Cardinal Cushing used to bring to the ballpark. I didn't know that I wasn't supposed to know anything about sports. I had no idea that I wasn't supposed to belong." Waldman was a raised in a Reform Jewish environment. She attended Sunday school and was confirmed. She went to temple and is quick to point out that her brother, an attorney, is a vice principal of a Solomon Schechter school in Boston. She has no memory of Sandy Koufax's decision in 1965 not to play in the first game of the World Series because it fell on Yom Kippur. "There was no National League team in Boston, so as far as I was concerned, it didn't exist," Waldman says. "Interestingly, I have it in my contract Boston Celtics, moved into that I don't broadcast on sports broadcasting. Taking Rosh HaShanah and the job as beat reporter for Yom Kippur. WFAN, "I had no idea "I have these discus- what I was in for," she says. sions all the time. Alex "There was a cabal of Rodriguez just asked people who felt women about playing or not belonged everywhere but playing on the holidays. doing sports. They tried to I told him the scriptures get me to quit. They tried don't say do not play on to fire me. Producers Yom Kippur unless the would doctor my tapes and Yankees are still playing." put strange things on the Despite her intense Suzyn Waldman: Major air to try to make me look interest in sports, League baseball's firstfill- foolish," she says. though, when it came to time female color commen- But Waldman refused to a career it played second tator. give up. fiddle to show business. "I don't like being told Waldman attended no," she says. "I don't like being hated Simmons College and majored in eco- because I'm a female." nomics, only because her mother and Waldman, who is single, says she has father told her to, and that was still a her dream job. She prefers radio to tele- time when people listened to their par- vision. ents. But at the same time, she took "On television," she contends, "you're courses in singing and dancing at the just providing captions for pictures peo- New England Conservatory of Music. ple can see." The day she graduated from college She also prefers color commentary to — "maybe it was the day after," play-by-play and says her partner, John Waldman concedes — she left for New Sterling, "is the best there is." York. She landed several roles, both on Still, after all this time, Waldman isn't and Off Broadway, and perhaps became sure if she's accepted or tolerated. best known for her role as Dulcinea in "I do have friends in the [Yankee] Man of La Mancha, which she toured in for two years opposite Howard Keel and organization," she says. "I'm also older. I have a life. This is not who I am." Richard Kiley. That came home to her in 1996 when "That's how I bought my house," she she was diagnosed with breast cancer. says. "The role became my bread and "I wasn't going to take the season off. I butter." But either show business or her enthu- didn't miss any days, except when I was having chemo," she says. siasm for it changed. The Yankees went out of their way to "The Broadway I came to New York for is gone," Waldman laments. "And it's be helpful, assuring she had a refrigera- tor in her room on road trips so not coming back. It was time to find Waldman could store her medication. something else to do with my life." The Yankees won the World Series When Waldman was touring with that year, and there was a big parade Man of La Mancha in Major League down the Canyon of Heroes. Waldman cities, she'd call the ballpark and say, rode in one of the cars, ticker tape flying "This is Dulcinea from the production around her. of Man of La Mancha. Do you need someone to sing the national anthem?" That's how she got to sing "The Star Spangled Banner" at the 1979 World Series. Suzyn Waldman can be heard "Joe Garagiola was there, and he doing color commentary for the watched me talking to the ballplayers New York Yankees on WCBS 880, and he said, 'You ought to think about the radio flagship of the New York [broadcasting as a career],"' she recalls. Yankees. The Detroit Tigers play When things started to change on the Yankees in Detroit May 24-26 Broadway, Waldman, inspired by her for a three-game series. love of the Red Sox and the NBA . ❑ 5/19 2005 97