I can’t believe I’m going to have to watch Phillies games without the voice of Harry Kalas, who died in the press box at the Washington Nationals’ stadium at 1:20 today. For those of you who did not grow up with “Harry the K” calling games since your childhood, the Baseball Hall of Fame broadcaster may be one more legendary voice you’ve heard in the background of ESPN highlights – and even imitated by ESPN broadcasters – but he’s THE VOICE of the team I first started following the same year Kalas came to Philly, 1971. From boyhood forward, every Philadelphia sports fan works on his Harry Kalas impersonation. It’s a good thing that we’ll be able to remember the sound of Harry’s voice a lot better than any of us try to replicate it.
Admittedly, we’ve got weird priorities in Philadelphia, and our beloved sports broadcasters often resonate more deeply in our hearts than our usually suspect teams. When Kalas’ old color man and Hall of Fame Phillies centerfielder in his own right, Richie Ashburn, died midseason in 1997, our city mourned like Rome might following the passing of the Pope. I’m sure the coming week here will be no different.
Kalas helped bring the young Phillies team that would eventually win the 1980 World Series to life. His Long drive…watch this baby…OUTTA HERE! home run call is what sport fans nationwide probably know as his signature, but how else would Phillies fans know the game’s greatest third baseman’s full name if not for Harry’s legendary Michael Jack Schmidt home run call? What longtime Phillies fan didn’t cherish any opportunity for a team’s score or the inning count to reach “11,” prompting Harry’s trademark, 4-syllable pronunciation of the numeral as EE-O-LEVEN? Kalas laughed, cried, cringed, and drank with us. I’ll admit, I always squirmed having to hear his drunken rendition of “High Hopes” the rare times the Phils made the playoffs, but eventually I’d be crying joyfully right along with him, our own Pope (Paul Owens, late architect of the 1980 team), Dallas Green, Bill Giles, Dave Montgomery, the players, and whatever other Phillies saps were raising their bottles of champagne on the tv screen. Life’s too short and playoff appearances are too scant in Philadelphia not to overlook horrible singing. Beside, we don’t judge a baseball broadcaster’s pipes based on his singing ability.
Beside the authority and professionalism that Kalas brought to broadcasts, what I fear I’ll miss most is his ability to shut the hell up and let the game do the talking. Kalas would inject enthusiasm or mild criticism when the moment called for it, but for the most part he called the game and allowed for the quiet moments of anticipation that the game requires. When people who don’t get baseball ask me how I can sit through the long stretches in which nothing really happens, I always say the game’s all about the anticipation, the time traveling that happens during the numerous “dead” stretches. From Game 5 in the 2008 NLCS forward, for instance, whenever Charlie Manual sends Matt Stairs (Professional Hitter) up to the plate as a pinch-hitter late in the game, Phillies fans will revisit the majestic arc of that ball he hit to put the Phils ahead in LA. I retraced the flight of that ball just yesterday, seconds before Stairs actually tagged Huston Street’s pitch and made possible another comeback victory. It’s been less than 24 hours since that ball cleared the fence in Denver, and I can’t remember if Kalas was doing the call. He probably was, and if so I’m sure he wasn’t citing some damn new wave statistics or providing “homer analysis” for viewers lacking a memory and an imagination.
Truly, the passing of an era.
I’ve got you by a few years, Mr. Mod, so I listened for those years to the triumvirate of Bill Campbell, By Saam, and Richie Asburn. When Kalas started it seemed wrong but it immediately became right, and now, all these years later, I can’t remember if he replaced Bill or Byrum.
It’s already damned near impossible to listen to (or watch for that matter) sports broadcasts. Too many voices, too much useless information, too many words which can’t disguise that fact that there is no insight.
Every city had them, I’m sure, but could they match up against those voices of my memory, John Facenda, Harry Kalas, Al Meltzer (is he still alive?)? I doubt it. [Do any of you Philly boys go back to the days of watching Meltzer do Big Five doubleheaders?]
R.I.P Harry…
Harry must have replaced Bill, because I caught the tail end of By Saam.
Big Al Meltzer is still kicking – I’m pretty sure. I remember him mostly as a the sports guy on one of the local news broadcasts.
Facenda was what I imagined to be the voice of God.
Brutal. His voice is baseball to me, period, and wrapped up in a huge way in what I love about it.
I love pretty much everything about the way he called games, down to the weird emphasis he’d give some players’ names (Mick-EY MooooR-an-DI-ni), listening to him have to read promos for whatever show that he’d never heard of that was coming on in syndication after the game and hearing him fake half a polite laught when Wheels would say something.
Sarge’s hat collection is the only thing going for the broadcast team now.
Too bad about Harry Kalas, Mr. Mod. I hate to bring further bad news, but another part of our baseball childhood also died today. The Bird is gone:
http://sports.yahoo.com/mlb/news;_ylt=Aj.rZ3TATFEjAnNZSjc7vVERvLYF?slug=ap-obit-fidrych&prov=ap&type=lgns
Harry Kalas, Mark Fidrych and Marilyn Chambers. And Phil Spector convicted (not that I didn’t think he was guilty,but still …).
I’m going to bed.
I saw the news about Fidrych tonight. That’s a shame. He was a lot of fun. Dontrelle Willis reminds me of The Bird, including the rapd, premature decline. Baseball needs as many fun players as it can get.
“Facenda was what I imagined to be the voice of God.”
There is a fun Philly-shot film noir called THE BURGLAR in which the big opening heist is time to go off with the opening of Facenda’s 11 O’Clock news at WCAU. You even get to see the tiny CAU news studios circa 1957 as they’re cueing Big John to start the newscast.
i like mod’s comment that harry had the good sense to keep his mouth shut and let the game do most of the talking.
i think they should broadcast a game with no voices at all in his honor. i think he would’ve liked that.
and in that spirit, that’s all i’ll say.
Mr. Mod, here’s a story about baseball’s characters that I found @ MSNBC that has a lot about the ’93 Phillies:
http://nbcsports.msnbc.com/id/29878446/
Also, if you want to go real “old school”, here’s a Jean Shepherd radio show from April 20, 1962 in which he describes a Mets-Phillies game that he attended at the Polo Grounds at a time when the only thing the Mets ‘n Phils were fistfighting for was last place:
http://www.flicklives.com/reruns/index.asp
Here’s something for Red Sox players to consider the day Bill “Spaceman” Lee dies – although they will need to be more discreet.
http://www.philly.com/philly/blogs/phillies/Phillies_smoke_cigarette_in_dugout_as_pre-game_tribute_to_Harry_Kalas.html
Sympathies to you Phils fans. I know how important Vin Scully is to my baseball experience so I can definitely empathize.
“Dontrelle Willis reminds me of The Bird, including the rapd, premature decline.”
I had time on my hands last night and looked it up – Mark Fidrych in 1976 threw 24 complete games. Including one of 10 innings, THREE of 11 innings and one of 12. Premature, perhaps, but completely understandable. I know it was a different era, but sheesh.
Yes, this was one of the main points of the article Joe Posnanski wrote about Fidrych for the SI website today:
http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/2009/writers/joe_posnanski/04/14/fidrych.obit/index.html?eref=T1
Pos is speaking at a little benefit for our Friends of the Library group tomorrow night. I’m looking forward to meeting him.
I’m sure some young pitchers were pitched into an early retirement in the old days, but pitchers typically pitched more innings and were part of 4-man rotations. I don’t think any data exist to show that there are LESS arm problems in these 5-man rotation/100-pitch count times. The fact that Steve Carlton, Fergie Jenkins, Nolan Ryan, et al regularly pitched 300 innings (!) for a good 15 years means it was possible for some arms to deal with that workload. Look at today’s Tigers’ staff and all the arm problems they’ve had since their World Series appearance a few years ago. They weren’t overpitched by Fidrych standards. Maybe it’s just a matter of bad luck as often as overuse. Don’t Japanese pitchers pitch batting practice and otherwise throw everyday? I don’t know, I’m not saying baseball follow the Dusty Baker model (ie, a modern-day manager who does seem to burnout pitchers), but I’m Old School. I hate the pitch count. I think it gets in pitchers’ heads to the point where a guy with 96 pitches practically throws an intentional walk to call it a day.
Just FYI here, Fidrych tore up his knee during spring training of his second year, and later hurt his arm, perhaps because of returning prematurely after the injury. My point is that there’s no indication that hurting his knee had any relationship to how many innings he had pitched six months earlier. But there does seem to be some evidence to suggest that he tried to come back from the injury too quickly.
I came back to the States for a summer vacation in 1976 — spent two months with my grandparents in Toledo, Ohio, where the fave team is, and always will be, the Tigers. My grandfather was a baseball *head*, and loved the Tigers from back in the Ty Cobb days. I remember well the Fidrych mania, and got swept up in it — you can imagine it was an easy buzz to catch when you’re twelve and you want to have something to bond with your grandfather about. RIP.
Side note: I never felt cooler than the night when my grandfather paid for *killer* scalped tickets outside of the old Tiger stadium (is there a new one, come to think of it?), and we sat way down by the 1st base line. Tigers versus A’s — the handlebar moustache A’s. I think Catfish Hunter took the mound that night, and I almost got a foul ball. Now THAT’s a sweet American summer memory.
HVB
Great baseball memory, Hrrundi! Yes, there’s a new Tigers’ park, Comerica Park (I think that’s the name). It’s very nice, but the main view outside centerfield is a parking lot.