Voices of Summer: Ranking Baseball's 101 All-Time Best Announcers (34 page)

Wolff liked Joe's pizazz. "He'd say, `The guy stapled him to the hag."' A
runner's "smilin' like he swallowed a banana peel." The game preceded due
diligence. "Afterward, we'd replay each pitch. `I said this, you said that, and I
shoulda said this."' Soon Garagiola Played "The Jack Paar Show" with Kaye
Ballard and June Valli: "the first time a group of Italians have gotten together
when there wasn't a senator present."

In 1962, he left the Cardinals full-time for NBC. Radio bound the 1963
Series, "Monitor," and "Joe Garagiola Sports Show." TV blared "The Tonight
Show," "Match Game," "What's My Line?," and "I've Got a Secret ."A writer said,
"His words hit home runs." Caray's friendship, on the other hand, fanned.

Small world. The 1964 World Series matched Joe's Swifties and Berra's
Stripes. Garagiola called it with, among others, "Holy cow!" Before Game
One, Harry decided to say hello. "I hadn't seen him in a while. Joe walks
toward me, I figure, for the same reason," barely acknowledging his pal.
Caray boiled, having treated Joe better, he claimed, than even son Skip. "I
called him every name in the book and I'm half-Italian myself. When you can
help him, he's your friend. If you can't, he's not."

The Cards cut their seventh title. Yogi was axed as Yankees manager. As
jaw-dropping: Mel Allen's firing. Joe augured "a more human Yankees
image," wrote Kay Gardella. Inhumanely, they chose his time to crash (last,
1966). Garagiola understandably avoided when possible anything germane
to score. "Once in a while you'd get lucky: theYankees like they were." May
14, 1967: "Stu Miller's ready! Here's the payoff pitch by Miller to Mantle,"
he said. "Swung on! There she goes! There she goes! ... Mickey Mantle has
hit the [career] 500th home run!"

In 1968, Joe joined NBC "The Today Show" regulars Barbara Walters,
Hugh Downs, and Frank McGee. Some foresaw a flop. Instead, he "indulged
in diamond talk with Frank Robinson," Ben Gross wrote, "boxing with
Muhammad Ali, poetry with Marianne Moore, and politics with Hubert H.
Humphrey." President Johnson introduced him to a diplomat: "Turn on your
TV set tomorrow morning and you'll see this fellow. I watch him every day."

Define New York: "The only four-letter word they object to is ROTC."
Was Joe sentimental? "Give me the Queen of Spades and I'll bawl." A slider
was "a curveball after taxes." A plane trip spawned "rope burns from my
Rosary." Garagiola rose at 4:30 A.M., caught the 5:26 commuter train, and
knew his niche. "I'm not Joe Show Biz, just a sweatshirt guy running at stop
speed to stay even. Those guys on the bubble gum cards, they're mine."

By 1973, Joe's card listed "Joe Garagiola's Memory Game," "Sale of
the Century," and Monday's pre-game "Baseball World of Joe Garagiola."
Wife Audrie asked: "How many cars or suits do you need?" Leaving
"Today," he called, with Gowdy, the 1974 All-Star Game. Next day Joe
grabbed Carl Lindemann. "I can't work with him. He kept cutting me off.
I couldn't say a word."

In 1975, he hosted NBC's "NextYear Is Here" and "First World Series of Bubble Gum Blowing"A new gate soon opened. "Mr. Garagiola," read a network press release, "will do our [entire 1976] play-by-play [Tony Kubek,
keeping color]." Political animals aren't limited to politics.

NBC hoped that Joe's charm and unorthodox dwelling on the personal
would halt "Game"'s decade-long hemorrhage. Instead, ratings bobbed from
6.7 (1977) via 7.5 (1978) to 6.3 (1981-82). "Saturday had a constituency,"
said executive producer Scotty Connal, "but it didn't swell." Millions still
missed Dizzy Dean. Local-team TV split the audience. By contrast, regulars
awaited bits like a "Star Trek" groupie.

The '52 Bucs meant a belly laugh: "Once we had a rainout and we staged
a victory party." Diction was a yuck. One year Yogi, Dean, and Garagiola
joined the Missouri Hall of Fame. "What do you want? Good grammar or
good taste?" "Game" mixed aplomb and nonchalance. "I'm an expert on two
things-trades and slumps." How far did Yogi go in high school? "Nine
blocks." If Howard Cosell lunched "with everyone he says he does, he'd weigh
720 pounds."

ABC's 1976 power grab was no laughing matter. "I wished they hadn't
got half the package. Still, `Game,' half of post-season-we got lots left." Billy
Martin and Reggie Jackson fought in 1977. Next year New York again made
the Series. GameTwo: L.A., 4-3, ninth, two on. Reggie Jackson kept fouling
off Bob Welch. Finally: "He gets him!" Joe cried. "What a battle!"

Garagiola never caught a no-hitter. In 1981, he called Nolan Ryan's fifth.
"Pressure building! This may be it [game-ending grounder]!"A year later Vin
Scully got play-by-play, Joe retaking color. Somewhere Gowdy was likely
smiling.

"People couldn't wait for us to be the odd couple, always sniping at each
other," Vin later mused. Once again Joe adjusted. Wolff, for one, was not surprised. "If I couldn't see who was warming up, he'd write me a note. `Smith
to the left, Jones to the right.' That way I could say it: Joe wanted me to look
good." By late 1983, The NewYork Times observed: "That the duo of Scully and
Garagiola is very good, and often even great, is no longer in dispute." Talking
less, Joe was saying more.

"He understood the cash," a friend said of NBC's 1984-89 407 percent
bigs hike. "Scully was the star"; Garagiola, Pegasus, the Peacocks' junior light.
In 1984, he predicted a Series pitchout. "How did you know that?" Vin
gawked.The fist sign, he said, hadn't changed since 1944. "He'd say the batter wiggled," said Harry Coyle, "so we'd put the replay on him, and the camera
proved him right."

The eighties tied flag-waving, supply-side economics, and Ronald
Reagan's remembered and/or reinvented past. NBC's fused: 1984, Jack
Morris's no-no; 1985, Ozzie Smith's L.C.S. parabola; 1986, Buckner Series;
late 1988, baseball's excising "Game." Joe resigned that fall-"I was trying to
renegotiate, and they left me twisting"returning to 1990-91's "Today."
Cooperstown followed. "The Hall of Fame! My God, Rickey wouldn't
believe it!" MimingYogi, Garagiola thanked those who made the day necessary. "I couldn't hit my way in here. I talked my way in instead."

In 1993, the Smithsonian Institution hailed Joe's baseball world.
"Tonight's honor might not be Mt. Rushmore," wrote Jack Paar of his foli-
cally-challenged friend, "but there's still a place on Mt. Baldie." Joe was
Gerald Ford's emcee in the 1976 presidential campaign. Recalling another president, Jack termed him the only Voice to have slept in the Lincoln Bedroom before it became the Hollywood Hotel.

JOB GARAGIOLA

Garagiola moved to Phoenix, called the Angels and Diamondbacks, and
hailed Arizona's first general manager: "My Rickey!" dad said of son Joe. Pop
helped open a gate for former players: the Baseball Assistance Team.

By 2002, the average big-league salary, $29,000 in 1968, neared $2.4
million. "These guys," he snapped. "Where's concern for the players before?"
A pitcher couldn't afford to bury his 11-year-old son. An ex-Dodger pondered a raffle to pay for an amputated leg. "Nobody cares about no pension
then. Without them, guys today wouldn't be living like they are."

BAT paid bills, bought insurance, above all, gentled shame. Unlatching
hope: a conservative, turned do-gooder; the hustler, aiding those whom life
forgot.

Bob Dole told Richard Nixon that he was too complicated to be understood. "Aha!" Nixon enthused. "Now you're getting somewhere." Ibid,Yogi's
chum. The final gate was knowledge.

TONY KussK

By 1939, Lou Gehrig was dying of amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, a hardening
and collapsing of the spinal cord. On July 4, he gave baseball's Gettysburg
Address. "Fans, for the past two weeks you have been reading about the bad
break l got ... but I have an awful lot to live for."

Game Seven, 1960 Series: A lesser break afflicts limb, not life. Gino
Cimoli singles to start Pittsburgh's eighth inning. Bill Virdon grounds a 1--1
pitch to Tony Kubek. "A sure double play," said the Yanks shortstop, "except
the ball hit something"-pebble, divot, or Forbes Field rough spot, no one
knows-"and hit me [in the larynx]."

Tony fell, grabbed his throat, and began to choke and cough blood. NBC
TV's Mel Allen empathized: "He wants to stay in, but Casey [manager
Stengel] is saying, `This is no time to be a hero."' Kubek was carted to a hospital. En route, Bill Mazeroski swung.

In 1965, doctors found that Kubek had broken his neck. "The closest
they could detect was what happened in Game Seven."Three vertebrae had
fused: a collision could paralyze him. Ironically, the bad break spun identity:
The average guy knew who Tony was.

Retiring, Kubek, 29, was to fly home to Milwaukee. "I was going to sell
[Laughing Cowl cheese," he laughed. Instead, NBC poo-bah Dave Kennedy
grabbed him at "Mr. Laffs," Phil Linz's Manhattan club. The Peacocks had just
acquired "Game of the Week." Would Tony audition as backup analyst? At that
moment he did not think of Gehrig. Unlike the Iron Horse, luck had bounced
his way.

Kubek was curiously sensitive about 1960. Once 1983-89 "Game" partner
Bob Costas referenced Virdon's smash. "Tony put his hand on my thigh to
stop me. I relented so that circulation would resume." Doubtless he resented
it kaputing his career.

In 1954, teams could still break the bank for a bonus baby. Each wanted
Kubek, 17, "a painfully shy guy" who never dated in school. Papa took the
longer view. "Forget a big deal," said the ex-Triple-A Milwaukee Brewer.
"Their rules make you stay with the [parent] club." Dad wanted his stringbean
to mature in the bushes. Agreeing, the Yanks gave him just $3,000 to sign.

By 1957, Kubek reached NewYork, became Rookie of theYear, and made
the Classic. In Game Three, he homered twice at Milwaukee: Stripes, 12-3.
"Local people called my parents, heckling them." Next year Tony played
shortstop, third base, and entire outfield. "And in just one Series game! Casey
liked to be cute." He was fired in 1960, making Kubek the daily shortstop.
"He'll play there, period," new skipper Ralph Houk said, next year leading
shortstops in chances per game.

"Don't write about me, write about Kubek," Roger Maris told a reporter.
"He plays great every day, and fans don't know." Maris encored as MVP. He
and Mickey Mantle had 115 homers. Whitey Ford went 25-4. "Ellie
[Howard, catching] was a star. Moose [Skowron] at first, Kubek and Bobby
Richardson up the middle, [Clete] Boyer at third," said Allen. "Ft. Knox had
more holes."

In 1987, Kubek wrote Sixty-One: The Team, The Record, The Men, about a
consortium impossible to forget. "For pure excitement, never a season like
it." Nor, he added, a club like '61's.

Tony got married-"she's a social worker and has her master's degree"-was
drafted, and entered the Army. On August 7, 1962, homering, he returned
with the Switcher's flair. Thomas Wolfe thought he would never die. Kubek
could not imagine the Yanks' meridian might end. Each year Mel and Red
Barber invited him on their post-game show. Tony appeared once: the camera made him twittery. "I was the last guy you'd ever think of going into it." At
NBC, he began by becoming ill.

NewYork, April 1966. About fifty baseball, network, and ad officials discuss "Game"'s first year. Strangely, its primary match-Detroit-New York,
with Curt Gowdy and Pee Wee Reese-airs everywhere but there. "Blackout
rules gave them the `B' [backup] game," said Scotty Connal. Tony and Jim
Simpson beamed Reds-Cubs into Motown and the Apple.

A rain forecast is read for Tiger Stadium. Another report says that
Simpson has laryngitis. The crowd looks at Kubek. "If Simpson's got laryngitis
and somebody thinks I'm doin' the"-gulp, national "`Game' alone, I'll be
in the bathroom 'cause I'm going to be sick." Weather cleared. Simpson
healed. Tony reverted to the B's.

One Saturday morning the "A" game was rained out. "We learn the
whole network is ours," said Charlie Jones, Simpson's sub. "I'm thrilled.
Everyone'll see us."

Excusing himself, Kubek left the booth. "Thirty minutes before the
game, no Tony. Twenty, no Tony. Fifteen, no Tony." Finally, Tony.

"Where you been?" said Jones.

"Throwing up. I'm not ready to go national."

By 1968, he was. "The problem," said Connal, "is being hidden on the
backup."That fall a good Series hop found Tony's glove: he wowed as a field
reporter. "He wormed his way around, but I wasn't bitter," said Reese,
soon fired. "I just think if you don't have anything to say, you should shut
your mouth."

Kubek had a lot to say, though he was gangling, stuttered, and talked
too fast. "In the early seventies, Curt suggested that I work offseason on
my delivery." Buying a recorder, Tony often read poetry aloud for 20 minutes a day.

One night, Monday "Game" guest Howard Cosell began trashing baseball. "No amount of description can hide the fact that this game is lagging
insufferably."

"Baseball's athletes top everyone's," Kubek countered.

"No, my friend, try auto racing," smirked Cosell. Tony was almost
speechless. It did not become a trend.