Because Scully is a finely tuned human wayback machine, he slickly shifted from discussing Michaels to discussing the 1936 World Series between the Yankees and the Giants, when he became a baseball fan.
“I was walking home from grammar school and walked past a Chinese laundry, which had the line score,” he said, recalling a strip of paper “probably eight inches wide” taped to the storefront window.
“I stopped to look and the Yankees were beating the Giants something like 18-6” - it was 18-4, in Game 2, played at the Polo Grounds, about a mile from his school. “And as a little child, I thought to myself, Oh, those poor Giants. So I became a rabid Giants fan.”
Later that fall, he said, “I wrote a composition for the good nuns saying that when I grow up, I wanted to be a sportscaster.” ...
He said he was not dismayed by the financial frolics of McCourt and his ex-wife, Jamie, which partly drained the Dodgers’ coffers. McCourt’s blood feud with baseball led him to put the team into bankruptcy.
“The way I always look at it is that I’m in the boiler room of the ship, stoking the coal that makes the engine go,” Scully said. “What happens on the bridge where the captain is is of no affair of mine. I only care about what goes on between the lines.
“But as a human being, I felt very sad for the McCourts. Here’s a couple married for 30 years with four fine sons; they wind up with money and fame and it explodes in their faces. That’s my No. 1 feeling. I have overwhelming respect for the sanctity of marriage.”