I moderated a panel discussion of ex-Brewers at a sold-out screening of ‘Ueck’ in West Bend

Have you ever had a week where moderating a panel discussion of former Milwaukee Brewers was the least bizarre thing you did that week?

To sum up: Since last Friday, I’ve gone to a family funeral; spent the weekend in Wisconsin Dells; taken a $300 Uber ride back to Milwaukee after my vehicle broke down outside of Wisconsin Dells; recorded my monthly music segment with WUWM; had a concerning encounter with a disturbed woman in which she gave me a $20 bill because she was freaked-out about the serial numbers; did the whole “moderate a panel of ex-Brewers” thing; co-hosted WMSE’s Local/Live from Chill On The Hill in Humboldt Park; evacuated Chill On The Hill in Humboldt Park due to a sudden tornado warning; randomly bumped into the disturbed woman from earlier in the week and returned her $20 (I gave her a different bill); and, finally, stood knee-high in Lake Michigan in jeans and got my photo taken with three media professionals who outclass me in every conceivable way. (More on that last thing next month.) Phew.

I say all this not to humblebrag (“Same old, same old!”), but to simply get it down. My head has been swimming. My body has been a wreck. I’m either falling apart or simply feeling the aftereffects of riding the Scorpion’s Tail one too many times at Noah’s Ark. That’s the one where the floor drops out from under you. So awesome!

Anyway, the ex-Brewers thing. About a month ago, the filmmakers behind the fantastic Bob Uecker documentary Ueck, Steve Farr and Michael T. Vollmann, asked me if I would be interested in attending a screening of the film at The Bend Theater in West Bend, and moderating a panel discussion of former Brewers afterward. Yes, yes I would be interested. I hadn’t seen Ueck since the opening night of the 2026 Milwaukee Film Festival (“Did I cry during the Bob Uecker documentary Ueck? You better believe I did.”), and I hadn’t been in The Bend since it was a single-screen movie theater and I saw Don Juan DeMarco there on a first date 32 years ago. (Hi, Nicki!) Plus, the prospect of teasing out wild Uecker stories from someone like Jim Gantner was too good to pass up.

So on Monday I found myself in lovely downtown West Bend. (My car was still dead, so I found myself there via the generosity of my friend Shea. Thanks, Shea!) I puttered around Main Street and Remembered Some Times. (I grew up in Mayville, but I spent a TON of my teenage years in West Bend.) I checked out Beat Goes On Records & More, a.k.a. the former (and original!) Exclusive Company. It was great! Still lots of old Exclusive stuff on the walls!

I eventually made my way to The Bend. The old movie theater was restored and transformed into a live concert venue in 2020. Talking to some of the staff, I learned that while the timing of that restoration and transformation couldn’t have been worse (COVID), the ensuing years have found the cozy 360-seat space becoming an increasingly popular destination for music, comedy, movies, and more. Any city would be proud to have a place like The Bend; a relatively mid-sized city like West Bend should be doubly proud.

The film was scheduled to begin at 7 p.m. At around 5:45, the ex-Brewers made their arrivals. I instantly clocked former Brewers pitcher (and West Bend native) Willie Mueller. Why Mueller? Not because I necessarily recognized him from his playing days (1978-83), but because dude played hated New York Yankees pitchers “The Duke” in Major League! This guy threw at his own kid at a father-son game!

Other players I instantly recognized: the great Jim Gantner, the great Billy Castro, and the great Don August. Other folks I surreptitiously Googled as they chatted amongst themselves and wondered when The Bend’s bar was going to open: the great Jerry Augustine, and former Brewers ticket services director John Barnes.

A great group! You know how there’s a distinct yet indescribable aura that former professional athletes give off? These guys were givin’ it off. I could feel it as I introduced myself. I could feel it as I hung around the green room. Hell, I could feel it as I talked to their wives. I, meanwhile, radiated the aura of a random dork in glasses whose greatest athletic achievement was not crying when his umpire father called him out on strikes because he thought strikes were only called when you swung and missed. I was, like, 14.

At 7 p.m. sharp a Bend staffer made some opening remarks. Then it was my turn. I got up in front of the crowd and quipped that my two career highlights were interviewing “Weird Al” Yankovic over the phone, and having a quote from my Ueck review appear in the film’s official trailer. Someone chuckled. I then introduced Farr and Vollmann. They talked about how they had been on a whirlwind tour of the state, screening the film as far north as Ashland and as far south as Racine. They seemed both thrilled to be addressing a sold-out theater, and a bit dazed from their travels. Hopefully you’ve caught up on some sleep this week, fellas.

Then it was time for Ueck! Like I’ve said before, it’s fantastic. Here are some bits from my earlier review:

[The film] both encapsulates Uecker’s long and storied career and serves as a fly-on-the-wall document of his final years. There are vintage clips aplenty: old Tonight Show appearances, old Miller Lite commercials, the time he got choked out by Andre the Giant. There’s Mr. Belvedere, Major League, that epic Baseball Hall of Fame induction speech. The clips are nothing dedicated Uecker heads haven’t seen before, but seeing them all again is a delight.

The heart of Ueck is in the modern-day footage. Farr and Vollmann began shadowing Uecker in 2023, soon after he was diagnosed with small cell lung cancer. (Uecker never revealed his diagnosis publicly, but Farr and Vollmann capture a remarkable scene where he quietly shares the news with Christian Yelich.) We see Uecker at home with his wife Judy, reminiscing over old photos. We see Uecker ambling through the bowels of American Family Field, shooting the breeze with star players and 9-to-5 personnel alike. And we see Uecker in the booth, perched in his chair and peering out over the field, calling game after game of Brewers baseball. It’s here that Uecker seems the most happy, the most at ease and at home.

And yeah, there’s this part, too:

There’s a shot in Ueck that may be one of the saddest things I’ve ever seen in a film, period. It comes immediately after the Brewers’ devastating season-ending loss to the New York Mets in Game 3 of the 2024 National League Wild Card Series. In what will end up being his final game, Uecker makes his final call (“That one had some sting on it”) and then just…sits there. Seen from a distance, the blurred shapes of fans filing out of the stadium occasionally obstructing the camera, we watch as Uecker sits in silence. He doesn’t know what else to do. He knows the season is over. He knows everything else is over. He knows he just called his final game. In three months, he’ll be gone.

THAT shot, seen from the back of the theater because it was hard to watch it again

Okay, Matt: WHAT ABOUT THAT POST-FILM PANEL? Honestly, it went by in a blur. I remember feeling self-conscious about sitting in the middle of the group, flanked by successful filmmakers and former major leaguers. I remember introducing Mueller and making a crack about his role as “The Duke.” I remember Mueller graciously introducing the rest of the panel because I suddenly couldn’t remember anyone’s name except Gantner. I remember someone (Augustine, I think) telling a long and hilarious story about a night out with Uecker and how they almost got busted until Uecker somehow convinced the cops to march them back to their hotel. I remember Castro telling a sad story about missing an opportunity to go fishing with Ueck. I remember Mueller and Gantner razzing each other and messing around with their drinks. I remember Mueller calling Gantner by his god-given nickname, Gumby.

I remember taking this photo:

And when it was all over following a quick audience Q&A (I ran through the crowd with a microphone in my hand, Phil Donahue-style), I remember taking this photo:

From left: John Barnes, Jerry Augustine, Steve Farr, Willie Mueller, Billy Castro, Michael T. Vollmann, Jim Gantner, Don August

And that was it! I moderated a panel discussion of ex-Brewers at a sold-out screening of Ueck in West Bend and lived to tell the 1,700-word tale. The Bend has a video of the whole thing on its Facebook page, if you’re interested. As for me, I haven’t revisited it because A.) I have a hard time watching myself on video, and B.) this was the sort of thing that feels better as a weird, fun, hazy memory. Kind of like a season of baseball.

Anyway, thanks to Steve and Michael for having me, thanks to The Bend for the hospitality, and thanks to everyone on the panel for sharing such great stories. (Oh, and shout-out to Milwaukee’s own Dan Didier, who was slinging merch in the lobby!) There’s a part in the film where Uecker talks about his hectic schedule: fly to L.A. for Mr. Belvedere, fly to Milwaukee to call some games, fly back to L.A., etc. My schedule as of late hasn’t been THAT hectic or notable, but it has been wild and exhausting. And I’m thankful for it. Like I said near the end of my Ueck review: You’ll cry, but you’ll also laugh. You’ll weep, but you’ll also have a blast.

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