Voices of Summer: Ranking Baseball's 101 All-Time Best Announcers (27 page)

"If he'd broadcast in New York," mused an admirer, "they'd build a monu-ment." In 1996, Cooperstown built something better: a plaque to the
Lochinvar of Boise and Bismarck and International Falls.

Herb Carneal joined baseball's northernmost franchise a year after the
Senators left Washington. The capital thought the Twins a two-headed monster. Minnesota deemed its new Voice the quintessence of age and place.

Three 50,000-watt stations-WHO Des Moines; WOW Omaha; and
flagship WCCO Minneapolis, "The Good Neighbor to the Northwest"-berthed a 55-outlet hookup and a weekend extra 15 in the Rocky Mountain
area. WTCN keyed a seven-state TV orb.

"You'd go to the parking lot on Saturday or Sunday," said Herb, "and see
license plates from Colorado, Idaho, Wyoming, Illinois." Announcer as
metaphor: right man, right time.

Growing up in Richmond, the dean of A.L. mikemen loved the nearby Senators. From high school he sashayed to WMBG Richmond, Triple-A Syracuse, and Springfield, Massachusetts. In 1954, Carneal did Philly's last two-team year. "I was a swing man, doing 100 [A's and Phillies] games." Not
enough: He wanted a 154-game slide.

In 1957, Herb bounced to Baltimore. "Ernie Harwell took me under his
wing. His philosophy rubbed off." Clarify. Paint a picture. "`The radio listener
doesn't know anything until you tell him.' " Carneal told: Hoyt Wilhelm's
1958 no-hitter, Rocky Colavito's four-dinger June 10, 1959, and 1960 nearmiss Baby Birds. When Hamm lost O's rights, Herb lost a job.

In late 1961, he replaced Bob Wolff, Scott becoming boss. "We worked six
years, and never had a disagreement," Ray said. "No pretension, down to earth.
Herb knew the game-no screaming, yelling-priorities perfect for the area."
Above all, he spurned a perceived Eastern urban gyp, scold, and scam.

Two days after Killebrew'sYankees-killer, Minnesota hosted the 1965 All-Star
Game. Herb manned NBC Radio. "There's a high drive to left field! It is
really hit! Way hack! A long home run! It's ... 5 to 5 on a tremendous home
run way back into the left-field stands by Harmon Killebrew!" Might-havebeen ensued. Same year: Series. 1967: last-day blown flag. 1969-70: L.C.S.
loss to Baltimore. "Never all the way," Carneal said, "but amazing names."

Rod Carew averaged .328, won eight batting titles, and got 3,053 hits,
including 2,085 with the Twins. Harmon's 500th homer bucked August 10,
1968. CesarTovar played each position in one game, but kept forgetting signs.

"I've got an idea," coach Vern Morgan finally said. "If we want Tovar to
steal, I'll call his last name three or four times and that'll signal him to go to
second on the next pitch." Skipper Bill Rigney nodded: "We've tried everything else. Let's give it a shot."

Tovar reached first base, whereupon Rigney flashed steal. "Tovar, look alive,"
Morgan began, "c'mon,Tovar, find your position-atta boy,Tovar, let's go."

Cesar asked for time. "Vern, I've been with this club for five years. How
come you don't call me by my first name?"

"He had a genius for backing into the limelight," wrote Lowell Thomas of
Lawrence of Arabia. Herb liked the footlights: "not interested," said 1967-69
partner Merle Harmon, "in getting his name in the paper." Most colleagues were.

Halsey Hall munched cigars, carried a liquor satchel, ate green onions in
the booth, and claimed to say "Holy Cow!" before Harry Caray. "In 1915, I
was a minor-league batboy and heard Billy Sullivan, a religious guy, use it."
Hall seized the term, but never a check.

Once Ray Christensen mentioned on-air taking the Twins' bus to the park. Tuning white, Halsey shook Ray's arm at break. "For Pete's sake, don't
say anything about a team bus. The station thinks I take a cab."

In 1974, colleague Larry Carlton said Minnesota would draw a million
or "I'll return half my salary." On closing day the St. Paul Pioneer's Pat Rickey
grabbed Carneal. "Your partner might be in a little financial trouble today if
the Twins don't draw 345,000."

By contrast, Herb bespoke "some quality," said Whittaker Chambers,
"difficult to identify in the world's glib way, but good, and meaningful."
Never was that more essential than when the 1982 Twins moved inside.

The Hubert H. Humphrey Metrodome wasted the region's clear, mild
summer. A tarp topped its right-field wall. Sightlines cottoned to the football
Vikings. One year the Dome planted gray-green Astroturf. "Great," wagged
Carneal. "Now you can't see the ball." Greater: radio.You couldn't see the park.

The 1987 Twinkles won their first World Series. Cardinals fielders wore
earplugs to blot Dome noise. Minnesota won another Classic in 1991. In
1994, Kirby Puckett retired with a .318 average. "I don't have a choice," he
said of a damaged retina. In 1998, Herb chose to leave road coverage to John
Gordon and Dan Gladden. In 2002, baseball nearly chose to contract the
Twins. Their revenge: three straight A.L. Central titles.

A labor pact protects the franchise through 2006. At 80, Carneal signed a pact through 2005. "I would say realistically that might he it," he said, "but
you never know." Wife Kathy had died in 2000. "The booth gives me something to do. I like to keep working."

HERB CARNEAL

In 1988, Herb hailed the 100th anniversary of "Casey at the Bat" by
reciting it for the Minneapolis Symphony. The Twins' real Good Neighbor
welds Mudville and Minneapolis-St. Paul.

HARRY CARAT

It might be! Baseball's Jackie Gleason, inhabiting another orb than Carneal's
rural chalet. It could be! A half-century as Voice of the Cardinals, A's, White
Sox, and Cubs. It was! God broke the mold before He made Harry Christopher Caray.

Recall the boozy Mayor of Rush Street. Hail the Maestro of the seventhinning stretch. Sing "Take Me Out To the Ballgame." Holy cow! Caray lives,
even now.

Ultimately, he defied the laws of probability, longevity, and cirrhosis of
the liver. A caricature was the message; and the message, gold. Harry mined
it at Sportsman's Park, Comiskey Park, and Wrigley Field: its alloy brass,
verve, and cheek.

"Thank God I came along when I did," Caray said two years before his death.
"With clubs hiring ex-jocks-turned announcers, a young me couldn't get a job."
He bridged bobby soxers and theVCR, seeming truant across the land.

Here's to a life worth reliving. Mr. Mayor, this one's for you.

Caray was born of Italian-French and Romanian parents, orphaned at three,
and raised by an aunt "more athletic than I was." Dad's name was Carabina.
"It's Italian, so people'd say, `Are you from the Hill in St. Louis?' I'd say, `Hell,
the Hill was Beverly Hills compared to where I came from' "-1909 LaSalle
Street.

Selling papers, Harry used three cents to borrow books from a library.
"I'd buy a sundae at a soda fountain and get halfway through the book." Next
day Caray finished and bought another sundae. After high school, he
worked at day, began night college, and graced Sportsman's Park. "Nobody
knows dad's age," son Skip said. "Whenever he takes a job, he lops five years
off." In 1942, arguably 22, Harry solved a puzzlement.

Siren in the flesh, the Cardinals bored on radio. "Was I lucky-seeing only great games-or was the announcer bad?" That France Laux! What a
drone! he decided, auditioning at KMOX. "I'm given a script about Puccini!
Puccini? Who's he? I stink, but get another try." G.M. Merle Jones helped him
start at WJOL Joliet and WKZO Kalamazoo. In 1945, Caray tried to enter
the military, but thick glasses kept him out. Hurt, he reclaimed radio.

"I get aWXOK talk show and go wild, 'WalterWinchellizing' like crazy." In
1945, Redbirds play-by-play opened. Directly Harry beat down the door. "I'm
with the sponsor head [Griesedieck Brewery] and he mentions a candidate he's
got in mind. `I can listen to him, and read the paper at the same time.' "

Harry sat wide-mouthed. "`That's your problem!' I said. `You're paying
hundreds of thousands of bucks, and what are you getting?' " People reading
the paper, ignoring his ads!

The boss phoned his ad director. "Get over here. I want you to meet our
new play-by-play man."

In every sense but score-Opening Day: Cubs 3, Cardinals 2-a season of
excess had come. Ex-catcher Gabby Street was Caray'sWEW andWTMV side-
kick-"the closest thing to a father I knew, outspoken, great humor." Only
home games were aired, riling owner Sam Breadon. In 1947, he sold 154-game
exclusivity to Caray-Street. Gabby died in 1951: "born forty years too early."

A 1952 team guide touted "the Cardinals network of over 80 stations."
Next season it moved to 50,000-watt KMOX. "Rumors said they were going
to leave St. Louis," said Caray, "so Gussie [Anheuser Busch Brewery head
August Busch] bought 'em for the city." He rebuilt Sportsman's Park, ditched
Griesedieck, and made Anheuser sponsor. For a time Harry feared being left
on the outside, looking in.

"Gussie was afraid that every time I said, `Budweiser,' people'd think
`Griesedieck.' " Caray asked for a six-month trial. Ignoring Griesedieck, he
helped bankrupt it in Missouri and southern Illinois.

Tending America's then-western and -southernmost team, Harry became a
Roland or Arthur in Webster, Iowa, and Cleveland, Tennessee, and Lawton,
Oklahoma. "In the years when baseball stopped at the Mississippi, KMOX
built a network that brought major-league baseball into every little burb,"
said Bill James. "Harry's remarkable talents ... forged a tie between the Cardinals and the Midwest that remains to this day."

Reverse praise formed its core. "Right at him! [St. Louis's Don
Blasingame] Should have made it!" Bobby Shantz walked a batter: "What a time to lose control!" Reds rally, 8-7. "I don't know how you can lose some of
these games, but we do!"The predator defended eating his young. "I have to
inform the fan, even if it hurts a player." Say a batter K'd thrice. "What do you
say? Good swing? I report, and if they do badly they get a bad report."

Webster's defines fan, derived from Greek fanatic, as showing "extreme
zeal, piety, etc." Said a newspaper: "The greatest show, no ifs or buts, is to
hear ... Caray going nuts." He was "an inveterate fan," Harry mused, "who
happens to be behind the mike." Ultimately, "It might be! It could be! It is!"
upon a homer knit 124 stations. Ibid, his primo moniker.

In 1942, Phil Rizzuto caught a ball, threw wildly to second base, and
screamed at Gerry Priddy, "Holy cow! You should have held it!" Harry sat
nearby at Sportsman's Park. "Holy cow!" he repeated. It escorted him to
every ballpark in the bigs.

One player Caray never knocked kept pilgrims trekking to Dodier and
Grand. On May 13, 1958, Stan Musial needed one hit for 3,000. Home next
night, St. Louis wanted it to happen there. The Man sits the bench: two out
and on, sixth inning at Wrigley Field.

Manager Fred Hutchinson: "You want to go up?"

Musial: "Hell, let's win the game."The pinch-hitter banged a 2-2 pitch.
"Line drive-there it is-into left field! Hit number 3,000!" said Harry. "A
run has scored! Musial around first, on his way to second with a double! Holy
cow! He came through! Listen to the crowd! Time is called! Standing ovation!"

St. Louis in July melds Capetown and Tripoli. After a steamy twinbill
Stan signed autographs for an hour. "He didn't make a fraction of what guys
do now. Didn't matter," said Harry. "In public he never make a mistake." Life
began at 41: Musial hit .330 in 1962. In late 1963, St. Louis went 19-1 to
pull a game back of Los Angeles, then hosted a three-set series.

Losing twice, the Swifties led, 5-4. "Here it comes!" Harry said of a
ninth-inning pitch to the Dodgers' Dick Nen. A soul-wracking still ensued.

"Oh, my God," he said, finally. "It's over the roof." Soon St. Louis was
over the cliff.

On September 29, The Man, retiring, singled in his last at-bat. "A hot shot on
the ground into right field! A base hit! . . . Listen! Gary Kolb is going to
replace Musial! There he goes!" St. Louis's infield had started the All-Star
Game: Boyer, Dick Groat, Julian Javier, and Bill White. Caray thought 1964
might close the deal.

"I can't believe it!" he howled in April. "Roger Craig [doubling] has hit
the left-center-field wall! The Cardinals are going to win the pennant!" Boyer
became MVP. Lou Brock hit .348 after leaving Chicago. Harry aired the last
day from a box. "If you've never heard Mr. Gussie Busch excited, you just
heard him over my shoulder! . . . The pitch! A high pop foul! McCarver's
there! The Cardinals won the pennant! The Cardinals won the pennant! The
Cardinals won the pennant! Everybody out! Hey! ... Mayhem on the field!"

In 1967, Orlando Cepeda became first unanimous league MVP. A year
later, Bob Gibson led in complete games (28), shutouts (13), Ks (268), and
ERA (1.12). Harry was asked his best left- and right-hand pitcher. "Koufax
and Gibson. You can have the rest, and wouldn't have a chance." Televising the
Series, his third on NBC, Caray never doubted that he would die behind the
mike. "With my last gasp I'd say, `Cardinals win!' "