Baseball Auteur: In the Truck with John DeMarsico
John DeMarisco, center, directing the SNY broadcast of the June 26, 2024 Mets-Yankees game
On a sultry summer night that would soon erupt in a torrential thunderstorm, the resurgent home-team Mets are unleashing their own barrage against the slumping Yankees. As the Mets load the bases on their way to a 12-2 rout, Yankee manager Aaron Boone calls for a meeting on the mound, and pitcher Luis Gil is quickly surrounded by teammates and coaches.
I am not watching this scene unfold in the beautiful and exciting splendor of sold-out Citifield, with the expanse of a green field in front of me as the sun sets over Flushing Meadows-Corona Park. Instead, I am in a cramped equipment-packed truck in a parking lot behind center field, with my friend Eric Hynes. We are in the SNY control room to watch a maestro, game director John DeMarsico, at work. The next night, DeMarsico will take the stage with Hynes a few miles away, at Museum of the Moving Image for a live program exploring the way that DeMarsico brilliantly creates engrossing, innovative spectacles on live television, day after day throughout the season. Or as DeMarsico thinks of it, baseball as cinema.
DeMarsico sits at a console in front of a wall of monitors, with his producer to his left, and technical director to his right. Throughout the truck, a crew of about a dozen technicians work the multitude of audio mixers, replay machines, video consoles, and computers that make the broadcast possible. DeMarsico communicates with them on headsets, and he is also in constant touch with the camera operators throughout the stadium, and with the broadcast crew in the booth (the always entertaining Gary Cohen, Keith Hernandez, and Ron Darling). DeMarsico’s job is mind-boggling. With twenty camera angles to choose from, he makes thousands of split-second decisions per game, always thinking a few moves ahead while calling for edits, adjustments in camera views, and quickly choreographing all the elements we take for granted; from the sequencing and timing of replays after an important play to the more mundane but equally important flow of information in graphics boxes. It’s a job that requires jedi-level concentration, the ability to shape a clear, coherent story, to be prepared for all the possible outcomes on any given play, but also to be spontaneous enough to have fun. Considering the difficulty of the job at hand, the most surprising thing about the DeMarsico control room is that—as Eric pointed out—the crew seems to be having a lot of fun.
As the meeting on the pitcher’s mound converges, DeMarsico is ready, calling for a cut to a Hitchcockian overhead shot from the top of the stadium, capturing the drama of the moment. The camera zooms in steadily, in a perfectly timed move. The meeting disperses just as the zoom ends, giving us a close view of the pitcher, now alone, about to throw the critical pitch. It is a small but compelling moment of cinema, one of hundreds peppered through the broadcast.
Indeed, DeMarsico’s Mets broadcasts are the perfect outlet for his two grand passions. A film student at North Carolina State (where he also played baseball), DeMarsico is a lifelong voracious filmgoer, a habit he maintains through the baseball season. He found time on an April trip to Los Angeles this year to visit Quentin Tarantino’s New Beverly Cinema to take in a 35mm double-feature of Sidney Poitier’s western Buck and the Preacher and Gordon Parks Jr’s lesser known Thomasine & Bushrod, a rarely screened variation on Bonnie and Clyde. During the hour-long rain delay, DeMarsico had time to chat about some favorite movies, first teasing his producer Neal Picker for not liking Citizen Kane, and then talking about some recent favorites, including May December, Zone of Interest, and Oppenheimer. His taste is eclectic; he loved the leisurely paced Italian arthouse film The Eight Mountains and raved about the gore-packed new horror thriller The First Omen.
DeMarsico’s cinephilia is built into his broadcasts; among his trademark shots is the “DePalma,” a split-screen effect combining closeups of pitcher and hitter in one composition, perfectly dramatizing the game’s essential confrontation. His go-to shot list also includes the “Ang Lee,” which pays homage to Lee’s underrated The Hulk with a fragmented comic-book layout allowing for six angles within a single frame.
Yet not all of DeMarsico’s shots are so complex. As the bad weather moved in, a city-skyline camera captured a spectacular image of a lightning strike, which was replayed, slowed-down, later in the broadcast. And many of the best shots on the broadcast come from simple observations. At one point, DeMarsico has his crew focus in on Yankee reliever Yoendry’s Gomez’s oddly high, twisted leg kick. Later, when the game is out of hand, DeMarsico has his crew “work the stands,” to find interesting fans to look at. The fans seemed to be having fun, even if tired by a marathon game that lasted close to midnight. And while they may have had a delightful night at the stadium (if they could keep dry), the only downside of their outing to Citifield is that they were missing a great show on television.