The Play-by-Play's the Thing

In his dreams, Evan Roberts, a 9-year-old, freckle-faced kid with hair the color of a bunch of peeled carrots, is sitting in a broadcast booth at Shea Stadium, a mike pinned to his white shirt.

In his dreams, a former Mets star - say Rusty Staub - is at Evan's side. Rusty doing the color; Evan doing the real work, the play-by-play.

In his dreams, Evan's second-favorite hero in the entire universe, Dwight Gooden, is the starting pitcher, and Evan takes a deep breath and calls:

"Game one of the seven-game home stand. Doc Gooden against Frank Castillo . . ."

In his dreams, Evan, a 4th-grader from Woodmere, is a Mets announcer. That is all he's ever wanted to be. At least since he was 7. He wants to be an announcer so badly that Gooden has to settle for being his No. 2 hero because the No. 1 spot goes to Gary Cohen, the WFAN Mets radio announcer.

Imagine Evan's delight when Monday night, in a broadcast booth at Shea Stadium, the little mouth that roared got to live out his dream for one inning. He announced part of the first Cubs-Mets game for a kids show called "DYNAMETS!" withStaub doing color at his side. (You can catch Evan on SportsChannel tomorrow at 9 a.m., Sunday at 12:30 p.m. and Tuesday at 7 p.m.)

Evan, all 4 feet, 3 inches of him, could barely see over the obstructions in the broadcast booth, but his eyes darted from the field to his scorecard to the scoreboard to the chart set out in front of him that his father, Joel, had made listing all the Cubs fielders. And Evan's mouth didn't stop.

"Doc Gooden's record six and four. Two seven nine ERA. Frank Castillo, one and three, ERA four oh nine . . .," went the little redhead. The big redhead next to him could barely get a word in. Staub just shook his head and grinned.

"That's a ground ball," Evan said. "Through the legs of Jeff Kent. It's an error. I think it's gonna be an error. Jeff Kent has been hitting the ball well, but he's not been fielding well . . ."

Evan knows a lot about baseball, indeed. He is in the process of memorizing "Total Baseball, Second Edition." He walks around with a computerized baseball encyclopedia glued to his hand. He's been reading, "So You Want to Be a Sportscaster," by Ken Coleman. And all day long, all year long and into the night - so that his parents have to warn, "Enough announcing, Evan, go to bed" - Evan calls out play-by-plays.

He calls the plays of real games. He calls the plays of imaginary games. He calls the plays for an entire imaginary season he devised using Mets and all the team's possible competitors. He keeps the statistics for every game, marking the imaginary final scores of each contest on the calendar he keeps on his desk.

Evan's mother, Janice, who wrote the theme song for "DYNAMETS!" and got her son the gig, said, he "announces into anything. He'll talk into a comb, a brush. He's been announcing in his bedroom for years. He announces his report cards to me."

"He doesn't stop for a minute," said his 13-year-old sister, Stacy, a bit wearily. "In the car, in the bathroom, in the shower. But he doesn't like doing it in front of his friends. They tell him to be quiet."

One day, while he was at the ballpark with his family, Evan told his dad he needed "an announcing break" and took his tape recorder and left. For two hours, Evan was missing. "We thought he was kidnaped," his father said. Evan was found in a sparsely populated section in the upper deck with the tape recorder running, announcing at the top of his lungs.

And when he's up at Camp Chenawanda in the Poconos, said his mother (who spends summers there too as director of the camp shows), and he doesn't have time alone, he nearly explodes with the need to announce.

"He comes running to me. I have my own room. And he says, `Ma, ma, I have to announce,' and he stays in my bathroom and for an hour announces. Sometimes he goes into his cubby with all dirty clothes and announces in a whisper."

Before he left for Shea Monday, Evan talked about his love for the game while munching an after-school snack. He said of his baseball passion, "It's inherited." Indeed, his dad wanted to be a sports announcer and became a CPA instead. But Dad Joel's life is enveloped by his passion for the Mets and Evan picked it up. Evan said, "He's a fanatic and he tried to make me a fanatic. Which I am."

Evan had to leave his interview for a while to do his homework: the four steps of digestion. And he had to finish dressing for the game.

"Put on a shirt and tie," Janice called.

"Why do I have to wear a shirt and tie?" Evan whined.

"Because announcers wear shirts and ties," Janice reasoned.

"One thing I know," Evan said, putting his clip-on tie in place, "I'm not going to be a TV announcer for the Mets. They take the great players and make them announcers. I can't ever be a great player."

Evan admitted his athletic ability - as displayed with The Atlanta Braves of Cedarhurst, his Little League team - is somewhat, uh, limited. He's batting .250 and the team's 0-11. "I'm good in the backyard," Evan said, "but when I get on the field . . . I don't know why, I'm horrible."

So he'll be a radio announcer.

"The pitch to Jose Vizcaino . . . It's in for a called strike."

Between plays, one of the "DYNAMETS!" producers suggested to Evan,

"After a couple of pitches, pause for a second. That way Rusty can make a comment."

Evan nodded, but the mouth didn't stop.

"Jose Vizcaino is batting left handed . . ."

They signed off after a full inning and Staub grinned good naturedly at his young companion and said, "He's ready."

He may even be the good luck charm the Mets seem to be needing. You may recall, they actually won the night Evan Roberts called the game.