Before Ricky Bottalico was a Phillies voice, 1996 All-Star Game gave him a mic originally appeared on NBC Sports Philadelphia
Thirty years ago, the All-Star Game returned to South Philadelphia for the first time since the bicentennial.
1996 featured a much different sports world.
The Cowboys had just won a Super Bowl, their last one since. Michael Jordan, in his first full season back from baseball, had just led the Bulls to a 72-10 season and another NBA title. The Summer Olympics were headed for Atlanta.
The Eagles drafted Brian Dawkins, then the 76ers drafted Allen Iverson.
And Philadelphia was still thawing out from a winter it would not forget.
The “Blizzard of ’96” buried the city and surrounding area in nearly 31 inches of snow in January. By July, the snow was gone, but the eventual 67-95 Phillies still looked stuck in it.
They were buried in the National League East, three years removed from the 1993 World Series run and still searching for direction. The Braves had moved from the NL West into the Phillies’ division before the strike-shortened 1994 season, changing the shape of the East.
As part of that realignment, Philadelphia was given the 1996 All-Star Game.
The mighty Braves arrived as reigning World Series champions.
The lowly Phillies arrived with one All-Star.
Ricky Bottalico.
“That’s the biggest thing that everybody takes out of it,” Bottalico said. “It was a Phillies team that, let’s face it, we struggled, and to not have more than one All-Star was, it wasn’t embarrassing, but it was just one of those things where, like, we’re the home team. We got one All-Star.”
For Bottalico, now a longtime NBC Sports Philadelphia analyst and 97.5 The Fanatic host, that week was not some clean, glossy baseball memory.
It was strange. It was loud. It was hot. It was packed with Hall of Famers.
And again, he was the only one wearing Phillies red pinstripes.
Ironically, that spotlight also meant Bottalico spent the week wearing six or seven microphones while hosting one of baseball’s signature shows.
“I was actually hosting This Week in Baseball,” Bottalico said. “I was miced up like you would not believe.”
This Week in Baseball, which returned this year, had been legendary broadcaster Mel Allen’s show from its start in 1977 until Allen’s death in June 1996, less than a month before the All-Star Game. For a generation of baseball fans, it was part of the Saturday routine.
Bottalico was one of those kids.
“When I was a little kid, there were two shows on before the national game of the week,” Bottalico said. “And then, right before the game, they always had This Week in Baseball. So every Saturday, if I didn’t have a game, I was sitting down watching it.”
The TV side was not random, either. Not looking back.
Bottalico sat in front of another legend, Harry Kalas, and former pitcher Larry Andersen, still the Phillies’ radio color commentator, on team flights. Kalas saw something before Bottalico did.
“Harry used to tell me, ‘You’re gonna get into the media after you’re done,’” Bottalico said. “And I’d be like, ‘I don’t know, Harry, we’ll see.’”
Kalas had his reason.
“You got the voice for it,” Bottalico remembered him saying.
In 1996, that future had not arrived yet. Bottalico was still the Phillies’ closer, still trying to make sense of being the only player from the home team in the home All-Star Game.
That hit him inside the clubhouse, where his home-park locker had been moved.
“I walked into the clubhouse, and the first people I see in the clubhouse are all the Braves playing cards in our locker room,” Bottalico said. “I’m like, this is wild. I mean, this is nuts.”
He knew what waited after the break.
“It didn’t feel the same because you knew that in a couple days you’re going to hate these guys again,” Bottalico said.
The Home Run Derby did not make the job feel any easier.
Barry Bonds beat Mark McGwire in the final. Bottalico had a front-row view as TWIB’s wired-up host.
“It was wild,” Bottalico said. “You gotta understand, it was hot too, I remember. And it was like one of those things where these guys were just hitting monstrous home runs.”
Watching that much power up close was not exactly comforting.
“It was absolutely the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever seen,” Bottalico said. “Just to watch those guys take batting practice, it was almost like, I don’t want to watch this. I gotta pitch to these guys in a couple weeks.”
The names around him look different now than they did then.
Pedro Martinez. Future wrestling-mate Barry Bonds. Mark McGwire. Cal Ripken Jr. Ozzie Smith, playing in his final All-Star Game.
“At the time, it probably wasn’t as special because I was there,” Bottalico said. “I was already in the big leagues. But you realize how awesome that was.”
When his name was called and the roar came down, Bottalico removed his cap, as most players do, and flashed a small message tucked under the bill.
“Hi Gram.”
His family was at Veterans Stadium. His fiancée’s family was there, too. His grandmother was not in attendance.
“She was the only one that couldn’t make it down because she was older,” Bottalico said. “I just wanted her to see that.”
The introductions came with a soundtrack only Philadelphia could provide. Joe Carter was booed for his ’93 heroics over the Phillies. Ozzie Smith received a massive ovation. Bottalico knew his would be different, too.
It was deafening.
Some Phillies teammates watched it from the seats. Shortstop Kevin Stocker was there, the only game he ever attended as a player, he said.
“I know Mickey Morandini was there, too,” Bottalico said. “Quite a few guys that were actually there and that had to be strange for them. I mean, they’re watching a game that they’re normally involved in.
“It was nice to have teammates that were there.”
Once the game started, another oddity waited.
Ripken had broken his nose during team pictures after White Sox reliever Roberto Hernandez slipped and hit him with an elbow. In Iron Man fashion, Ripken still started.
Bottalico faced him in the fifth inning, fully aware of what he did not want to do.
“I definitely would have pitched him differently if it was regular season,” Bottalico said. “My whole theory was, I don’t want to be the goat that hits him here.”
The thought made sense. Ripken’s consecutive-games streak had already passed Lou Gehrig’s record.
“The guy’s playing with a broken nose, for crying out loud,” Bottalico said.
Bottalico got Ripken to pop out. He also struck out Ivan Rodriguez in a scoreless fifth.
His entrance is the part he still hears, though.
The Vet had a high wall near the bullpen that dipped lower as pitchers came toward first base. As Bottalico came in, he could see the crowd rise section by section.
“It was like a wave,” Bottalico said. “That got pretty loud.”
Someone in the bullpen, Bottalico believes it may have been Al Leiter, told him to take it in.
“I remember just kind of taking it in as I was jogging in,” Bottalico said. “It was pretty cool.”
That was Bottalico’s moment.
The night’s postcard belonged to the local kid.
Mike Piazza, the Norristown native and Dodgers catcher, turned Veterans Stadium into his stage. He caught a ceremonial first pitch from Mike Schmidt, his childhood hero, then hit a mammoth upper-deck homer and added an RBI double in the National League’s 6-0 win. The NL would not win the All-Star Game again until 2010.
Bottalico knew Piazza, another future teammate, had his own local pull that week.
“There were a lot of questions about it, because I was obviously in Philly, and he was the other one that had a connection to Philly,” Bottalico said. “It was definitely public knowledge.”
The homer stuck with him.
“That ball in the All-Star Game, he hit that, like, four rows deep, and it was more towards [left] center field in the upper deck,” Bottalico said. “This was monstrous.”
Piazza was asked afterward if he could have dreamed up that kind of homecoming.
“I don’t know about living it,” Piazza said on NBC’s postgame broadcast, “but I definitely dreamt it.”
One seat in Bottalico’s section came with its own coincidental souvenir.
“My uncle, in the seats that I got them, actually got a Mike Piazza foul ball,” Bottalico said.
Wild.
Nearly three decades later, Citizens Bank Park is finally getting its first All-Star Game. Bottalico still cannot quite believe it took this long.
“I think that’s amazing,” Bottalico said. “It is something.”
There is another difference this time.
The 1996 Phillies had one All-Star. This year’s team has six.
Bottalico’s pregame routine looks different now. The warmup comes with an IFB in an NBC Sports Philadelphia office, not a baseball in a bullpen.
But in some ways, that week foreshadowed the second act Harry Kalas once predicted for him.
The baseball part still matters most.
“For me,” Ricky Bo said, “it’s something that I was the sole representative for the Phillies.”