Voices of Summer: Ranking Baseball's 101 All-Time Best Announcers (31 page)

In 2002, the Bucs left Three Rivers for downtown PNC Park: Gunner's
Bar vaunts the legend's core. How sweet the gravel voice and rhetoric and
sheer unpredictability were. Forget kissing memory good-bye. Prince still
has us all the way.

BOB PRINCE

George H.W. Bush was a conundrum wrapped in hard-to-get-a-handle-on.
The Northeast Episcopalian liked country and western music. The patrician
enjoyed horseshoes. Bush warred on language: "Deep doo-doo ... Don't cry
for me, Argentina."Yet old-shoe charm-"I'm president and I don't have to
eat it [broccoli]!"-eclipsed Andover and Yale. Canned by the American
people, he, 1, and 400 friends left the White House in 1993. Milo Hamilton,
who adored Bush, understood.

Hamilton called Stan Musial's record five homers in a 1954 doubleheader.
In 1972, he did a twinbill in Atlanta. "Would you believe it? Nate Colbert hits
five dingers, too." Next day Nate, a 1954 Knotholer, recalled having seen Stan's
explosion at Sportsman's Park. Eerie daubs the junction-also, Milo's life.

Eight times, all but once involuntarily, he left one team for another.
Said League of Their Own: "There is no crying in baseball"-and no guarantees. "Hamilton is as interesting as the weather channel, to which I would frequently dial when he was on," wrote Bill James. Even as a teenager,
hearing him, I disagreed.

To me, Milo seemed bright, glib, and bookish, tying courtesy and hospitality. "The credit," Theodore Roosevelt said, "belongs to the man in the
arena." Hamilton's led to Cooperstown in 1992.

In 1928, Charles Lindbergh endorsed Herbert Hoover, born in tiny (pop.
350) Cedar Branch, Iowa, for president. A song on the wireless hymned
praise-by-association:

"You remember Hoover, back in the war.

"Saved us from the Kaiser, now he'll give us something more.

"He'll serve as the President of the land of the free.

"If he's good enough for Lindbergh, he's good enough for me."

Hoover was good enough for the Hamilton family of nearby Fairfield.
Shy and leaden, he made a hash of radio. Milo loved it. "It was so ingrained
in all of us"-like The Game.

"People clung to baseball," he said of the thirties. "Dad and friends'd talk
at the cigar store." Each school district had a team. Each day Mom bought
bread late to save a penny. At eight, Hamilton got his first 35 cent Spalding
Guide; 18, joined the Navy, went to Guam, and did Armed Forces Radio; 22,
left the University of Iowa for Moline, Illinois. That night he saw his first
fight. "Worse, I called 16, too."

The Radio Speech major aired Iowa football, Tri-City basketball, and the
Three-I League. Once, after hoops, he re-created an afternoon Quad City
Quads twinbill. "At the studio I find there'd been 37 walks. HolyToledo! How'd
you like that finale to the day?"-a prologue to the Browns, Cards, and Cubs.

In 1953, Milo, 25, joined A.L. St. Louis. "I wasn't ready for the majors.
Neither were the Browns," junking him before Baltimore. Two axings followed: 1955, for Joe Garagiola; 1958, Lou Boudreau, squeezing him at
Wrigley Field. In 1961, he moved to Comiskey Park. "Bob Elson'd say, 'Save
something for a thrilling finish. Go pell-mell earlier and you have nowhere
to go.' "Not pell-mell nor thrilling, Hamilton was encyclopedic like a logue.

"He plays draftsman all winter," read a guide. "Just to prepare a book on
home runs for the season took more than ten hours." Lindsey Nelson
laughed: "No one has a bigger briefcase." Milo opened it on WCFL Chicago.
"If the Sox weren't scheduled, we'd re-create, say, Senators-A's. Try that on
your inspiration meter." It rose October 1, 1961.

The Hose season ended a day earlier, Saturday. Sunday Hamilton aired Roger Maris's homer 61. "The ticker told me Roger tipped his cap, and I
passed that on." Milo aired his next historic blast live.

From time to time, gossip had him replacing Elson. "What the hell do I say?
`Drop dead so I can have your job?' "He might have succeeded Bob-but for
a Rebel yell.

In 1965, the Sox and Braves played an Atlanta exhibition. The General
Finance Network had knit the South: "They knew my name, at least my
voice." A pre-game luncheon treated Hamilton like Stonewall Jackson. That
night, Milwaukee G.M. John McHale said, "That was some welcome. You
ought to come down with us [to Atlanta] next year."

"I'd he interested," Milo said, "in just that chance."

Alabama's Mel Allen, 52, had seemed a lock. "There were rumors about
him," explained McHale. "Drinking, drugs." Hamilton was young, fresh, and
handsome. "We wanted a new image." At first it seemed that Atlanta had no
idea what that image was.

"There'd he fifty thousand people and not a sound," said catcher Joe
Torre. "Fans didn't know what to do--such a contrast to Milwaukee." Tonv
Cloninger--to Milo, "T. C." or "Top Cat"--lost the 1966 opener despite a 13inning complete game. On July 3, he won, 17-3, belting two slams. "One
day a guy goes all the way to lose. Next, he's Babe Ruth," laughed Hamilton.
"Anyone who says they know baseball is nuts."

In 1969, it split into four divisions. Atlanta won the West, but lost the
L.C.S. Next year Rico Carty batted a bigs-high .366. Increasingly, Atlanta
warmed. In 1972, the Braves averaged a prime-timeTV 27 rating and 56 share:
higher than any team, "Game of the Week," or college and pro football. "Milo is
one reason," said parent Cox Broadcasting's James Landon. Another: power.

In 1973, three players-Aaron, Darrell Evans, and Davey Johnson-hit
40 homers for the first time on a team. Hamilton named Hank "The
Hammer": third all-time, games played and hits; second, times at bat; first,
runs scored, RBI, total bases, and extra-base hits. The marquee number was
714. "Hank ended 1973 one short of Ruth's mark," said Milo. "All winter I
thought about what I was going to say when he broke it. George Plimpton
kept at me. I said, `Gotta he spontaneous.' "

Hank's first 1974 swing tied the Babe. On April 8, a rainy night in
Georgia, he crossed a most Ruthian line. "Sitting on 714," Hamilton began.
"Here's the pitch by [L.A.'sAl] Downing ... swinging ...There's a drive into
left-center field! That ball is gonna be ... outta here! It's gone! It's 715!" clearing the fence into relieverTom House's glove. "There's a new home-run
champion of all time! And it's Henry Aaron! Henry Aaron's coming around
third! His teammates are at home plate! Listen to this crowd!"

Plimpton said: "Maybe you'd been rehearsing and didn't know it." Milo
gaped: Maris, now this. "Only problem: We weren't drawing. Some real bowwows on the field." In 1975, Hamilton ripped Atlanta for non-support: "This
is ... a big-league city or it's not." At the same time, higher-ups demanded
he fudge. "I wouldn't shill. Folks could smell us all the way to Chattanooga."

Where could he report, look in a mirror, and still not self-destruct? Perhaps the bigs city where he began.

In late 1975, Jack Buck left St. Louis for NBC TV. "We were seriously
talking," said Hamilton, until Jack got antsy: What would happen if his new
"Grandstand" sank? The Cards agreed to his return. Milo bailed. "I wasn't
going without a multi-year guarantee as No. 1."That December he left the
guillotine for a noose.

"You could be Mel Allen or Red Barber here, and they couldn't replace
Bob Prince," said the new Bucs Voice. "I have to be myself. I think it will
work." Hoover had a better chance of beating FDR. "I was competing with a
specter," he later mused, alone and in the dock. "I never tried to imitate him,
but I couldn't escape him."

An edge bit his voice. "The average fan liked me, but the press, Prince's
booze buddies, knifed me from the start." Gunner did play-by-play from Sid
Caesar via Milton Berle. Milo did it by the book: "radio-school professionalism," sneered the Post-Gazette. He thought its jury tainted: "blubbering
idiots. No way was I going back." Pittsburgh won the Series October 17,
1979. Next week Hamilton retrieved his past.

"Anybody in my place would jump at the opportunity," said the Cubs'
once/again radio duce. Later he recalled being "guaranteed in blood"TV by
1982. "Promised? It was announced. Jack Brickhouse'd be retiring." In September
1981, Hey-Hey! called him "The Voice of the Cubs for years to come."

On November 16, a WGN exec phoned at 7:30 A.M. "Can you come to
the office? We need to tell you in person." At 10 o'clock Harry Caray
snatched Cubs TV. "Talk about history repeating itself," said Milo, though not
in the way he expected, or hoped.

Holy cow! In 1955, Harry had shed him to accommodate Garagiola. A
broken vow; Caray's gall; having to work next door-it was too much. In 1984, Caray conceded his affair with August Busch's daughter-in-law. "What
a jerk," sniped Milo. "Saying on the air, `Today I mailed alimony checks to all
my ex-wives,' bragging about it, no wonder we never got along." The Cubs
won the East. At season's end he was sent packing. "The station spent an hour
praising me, then said, `But the bottom line is that Harry doesn't like you,
and he's more important.' "

Threads flank, part, and merge. Harry's son replaced Hamilton in 1976.
In 1985, DeWayne Staats joined Caray pere, Milo replacing him in Houston.
The new Astros Voice was unhip and unboutique, a family man, a fine Lone
Star fit. "The Midwest gave him trouble," said a friend. "It took the Southwest
to give the esteem he deserved."

Milo, in turn, esteemed 1986. Cy Younger Mike Scott led the league in
shutouts, innings, ERA, and Ks. The kicker: September 25. "Now the hitter
is Will Clark," Milo said. "He's 0 for 3. Swing and a bouncer! This could be
it! Davis runs to the bag! A no-hitter! [Milo's seventh] Astros win the championship! Mike Scott throws a no-hitter and the Astros are the champions of
the National League West!" Next: the L.C.S., where, up, 3 games to 2, New
York trailed mentally.

"Scott had owned us twice," said now-Mets manager Johnson. "Lose
Game Six, and we face him again." Ahead, 3-0, 'Stros lefty starter Bob
Knepper entered the ninth. Holy Toledo! Johnson pinch-hit Len Dykstra.
"Another lefty, and he triples!" The Mets tied, then led, 4-3, in the 14th.
"Astros badly need a base runner," said Milo. "Full count. [Jesse] Orosco
ready! Pitch to [Billy] Hatcher! There's a drive! It's gone! We're tied again!"

Scott lingered like a plume. Sixteenth: New York scored thrice, 7-4.
Again Houston rallied: 7-6, full count, two out and on. The noise made
indoor ball almost passable. Kevin Bass missed a breaking ball. Suddenly,
Milo didn't miss a single pre-Deep in the Eyes of Texas stop.

"Rapture! Congratulations to all!" yamped the NewYork Daily News. Consolation: 'Stros. Losing the 1997-99 Division Series, they entered Minute Maid
(then Enron) Field-its left-field porch, center-field berm, in-play flagpole,
and I 860s lifesize locomotive and steel tender siring "a ballpark," read Si, "of
idiosyncrasies and intrigue."

Milo liked idiosyncrasy. He was tired of political intrigue. The game still
gripped, always had. "I'll be calling a play, and have to say, `Ever see that
before?' My partner'll say, `Nope.' Mention one game. The memory triggers
another, which leads to a story, then another."

In 2004, Houston split L.C.S. Games One-Four. Next day neared overtime. "Let's see if he can step on the clutch here. Two on, one out, bottom of
the ninth," said Hamilton. "Isringhausen delivers. Driving, way back into left
field! It's up! It's over! It's gone! It's gone! A big home run by [Jeff] Kent! Holy
Toledo!"jolting St. Louis, 3-0. "What a moment," Milo later said. "The Astros,
one game from a pennant," [where they stalled, losing the final two].

In 1992, he, Musial, and Bob Feller got to recalling the Depression at
Cooperstown. "All of a sudden I start thinking of my parents." At that point
Brooks Robinson and Johnny Bench began getting autographs of inductees
and Hall of Famers.

The moment evoked boyhood: "grown men playing a kids' game with
short pants." Suddenly, Fairfield, Iowa, and the recess of NewYork's Mohawk
Valley seemed two veins from the same mine.

MILO HAMILTON