The Boston Red Sox London Series Clips * The Boston Globe Sean McDonough tops cast of rotating Red Sox announcers Chad Finn The Red Sox have hit the midpoint of their season — 81 games down, 81 to go. That also means we’ve reached the time of year when many baseball writers knock out the requisite but always readable midseason grades column. That old staple is especially tempting to write now with the Sox on a brief hiatus before commencing their season in London Saturday. Mine would be simple for these talented but underachieving 88-win-pace Red Sox. Xander Bogaerts and Rafael Devers each get an A. Just about everyone else gets some variation of a C or worse. My classroom, my rules, pal. From a media standpoint, there are a few more Red Sox-relevant grades to be issued — specifically in relation to Entercom and WEEI’s decision to have a rotating cast of announcers in the broadcast booth alongside crafty veteran Joe Castiglione. In general, the rotating cast — which by my accounting has included eight broadcasters — has worked quite well, though it’s a lot to ask of Castiglione and shouldn’t be considered a long-term solution. Every voice, save for perhaps the most high-profile one, has been up to the task, and there has been a noticeably more conversational tone to the broadcasts, with studio/update hosts Will Flemming and Ken Laird more engaged in the in-game banter than in the past. And one familiar voice in particular has made the broadcast as entertaining as it has been since . I don’t know, maybe the days of Ned Martin and Jon Miller. Before getting to the grades, let’s make one ground rule. Anyone who already has a prominent local gig that has worked fewer than five games doesn’t get a letter grade. We already know them, know their voices and tendencies, know what to expect. It’s pass/fail for Dale Arnold (3 games), Tom Caron (4), and Dave O’Brien (1), and they all pass with ease. Flemming, who was on that Pawtucket broadcasters pipeline to the majors for a few years as a play-by-play voice, has called three games beyond his hosting duties. I’d like to hear more from him. He’s worthy of a big league play- by-play job. Josh Lewin: An established and respected veteran — he called Fox national games for more than a decade — he joined Castiglione for the first 11 games of the season, and has had a leading 29 overall. It took some time getting used to his enthusiastic style, and he sometimes seemed overeager early to emphasize a bond with Castiglione. But he’s a pleasant listen, interactive in a positive way with fans, and a hard worker who puts in his time gathering his own information in the locker room. Grade: B Mario Impemba: Like Lewin, he’s a well-established play-by-play voice, and the Red Sox have been fortunate to have both of them take the brunt of the workload. He called Tigers games on television for 17 years before a scrap with color analyst Rod Allen during a broadcast last season cost both of them their jobs. (I’m in favor of more in- game broadcaster brawls.) Impemba, who has been part of 25 broadcasts so far, is the most conventional play-by- play voice of the group WEEI has used. Sometimes it has been difficult to hear his calls during especially exciting moments, with the sound from the crowd microphones overwhelming his voice, but that may not be his fault. Grade: B Lou Merloni: He was my top choice to join Castiglione three years ago when Tim Neverett was hired before the 2016 season. The former Red Sox infielder and current talk show host has only improved since — he’s anecdotal, unafraid to be critical, and sees the game like a manager. He’s been the third man in the booth on several occasions, but also works well when he’s solo with Castiglione. What’s that you say? Why yes, he does get much better ratings here than on his radio show. Grade: B Sean McDonough: I cannot exaggerate how satisfying it has been to hear McDonough call Red Sox games again. (He’s had 15 so far.) The voice of the Red Sox on television from 1988-2004 (with some overlap with Don Orsillo), he calls the big moments better than anyone, as you’d expect from someone who has broadcasted pretty much every major sport there is in the United States. But he’s at his best when a game is dragging or out of hand and he activates his effortlessly sarcastic sense of humor. He’s even cracked up the usual straight-laced Castiglione a couple of times. This whole experiment has been worthwhile just to hear this. A-plus Chris Berman: He’s an original voice in sports broadcasting history, with his fun-loving everyman persona and still- amusing nicknames. I still miss the version of “NFL Primetime” he hosted for 20 years. But baseball play-by-play was never his strongest suit, even in his ESPN heyday, and meandered so much during the three games he called in May with Castiglione that they sometimes had to catch up to the action on the field. It was fun as an idea and a lark, but there was too much rumbling, bumbling and stumbling in the end. Grade: D Reflections on covering the Red Sox from a first-time, short-time beat writer Chad Finn The first Red Sox game I ever covered was Game 3 of the 2003 American League Division Series against the A’s. From what I understand, some relevant plot twists in Red Sox history have occurred since then, but I’ll bet you remember that game well. I do. Trot Nixon ended it with a walkoff home run to left-center field off A’s fireballer Rich Harden in the 11th inning, giving the Red Sox their first win in what was an extremely tense and contentious series. Save for Shane Victorino’s don’t-worry-bout-a-thing grand slam in Game 6 of the 2013 ALCS versus the Tigers, the loudest I have ever heard Fenway Park in person was right around the moment Trot broke into his trot. I’ve been a member of the Baseball Writers Association of America for four years, which means I’ll have a Hall of Fame vote right around the time Rafael Devers is eligible, I think. He’s already a yes, obviously. I’ve been covering baseball a long time, and writing about it long before the remaining hairs on my head that decided not to abandon ship turned gray. But this is the first season that I have experienced it from something resembling a beat writer’s perspective. When our cherished colleague Nick Cafardo died suddenly in spring training, I was proud to be among a number of Globe sports staffers who were called upon at various points in the first half of this season to join indefatigable Sox writers Peter Abraham and Alex Speier to aid in their coverage. Nick could not be replaced. But we had to do our best to replace his production. I was called upon to cover roughly a half-dozen series in the first half, including road trips to Chicago and New York, and important-seeming home series against the Astros and Indians. Julian McWilliams, who comes here from Oakland backed with rave reviews from his former colleagues at The Athletic, has arrived as a full-time baseball writer. My contributions to our Sox coverage will return to the previous format, which probably could be classified as snarky but hopefully informative quasi-columns usually produced a safe distance from the clubhouse. It’s a pretty sweet gig. But I enjoyed — far more than I expected, honestly, but don’t tell my boss — being part of the beat brigade for a while, to watch the interactions behind the scenes, gather intel on the dynamics, and have some perceptions confirmed and others altered. My general takeaway from my time as a relative outsider on the inside — and keep in mind, these are just my observations — is that the Red Sox have a genuinely good group, one that collectively is legitimately frustrated by their inconsistent season so far. I think it helps, too, that Alex Cora’s mood never wavered. He was almost always upbeat and easy to laugh, but never hesitated to criticize or call out players, either. My respect for him has grown this season. He’s never going to lose the clubhouse the way tense-manager-turned-chilled-out-lobsterman John Farrell did. It’s not the loudest or most charismatic group — the biggest collective roar I heard was after a win in Chicago, when Mookie Betts and a few other teammates were watching the end of a Rockets-Warriors playoff game — and there really isn’t anyone who could be called an outsized personality. It just feels . professional. That goes for the relationship between players and media, too. The beat reporters enter the clubhouse every day around 3:30 p.m. for a 7 p.m. game, with an hour-ish to gather information for their early print stories. The players, many of whom in their hoodie/hat/backpack ensemble could pass for Northeastern undergrads, filter in and out. Sometimes the reporters just end up milling about in clusters for a bit, but if there’s a player who is in the news for one reason or another, he is usually made available.