Voices of Summer: Ranking Baseball's 101 All-Time Best Announcers (46 page)

The Cardinals acquired Uke in April 1964, losing every game involving
him till July. Two college students formed the Bob Uecker Fan Club (membership, 500).

"I had to fight guys to get in games," he said, "and fans who wanted to get
me out." Fans won: St. Louis made the Series.

Before Game One, three bands played at Busch Stadium. Bob grabbed a
tuba, declined to blow-"Nothing to prove. Folks knew I had hot air"--and
used it to catch flies. Most struck brass. "Cheap? The Cardinals charged me
for a tuba!"

Leave it to Mr. B. You'd expect him to avoid Sandy Koufax. Instead, he
hit .400 off baseball's Robespierre. "There he was, the greatest stuff since
Doubleday, and I'd hit a home run or double."That alone, Uecker said, should
have kept Koufax out of Cooperstown.

The Who sang, "Won't Get Fooled Again." Uke wasn't, planning post-retirement. He talked into a beer cup in the bullpen. "My managers didn't want
me in the game. Heck, they didn't want me on the bench. Kids ask which
clubs I played for. `Nobody, but I sat for a lot."'

Uke rued his 1965 trade to Philadelphia: "fans so tough, they go to the
airport to boo had landings." One cop fined him S 50 for being drunk and
$400 for being a Phillie. On the other hand, manager Gene Mauch "understood me," crying "get a bat and stop this rally."The third base coach turned
his back on Bob at bat. "Worse, the catcher skipped the sign to the pitcher.
He'd just yell what to throw."

No respect: Uke, batting in the ninth, saw rival players dressed in
street clothes. A bigmouth fan "said awful things. The problem is, he was
right." Bob finally dove into the seats. "Figured I had the edge with my
chest protector and shin guards on. Even so, the guy hit me and they
arrested him for assault." Police then arrested Uecker for impersonating
a player.

In 1967, rejoining the now-Atlanta Braves, the mimist retired when
manager Luman Harris snapped, "No visitors in the dugout." Uecker
sashayed to their speaking bureau, wowing Nashville to Naples. "I did stuff
about my career--anything for a laugh. Even when I was just getting started,
anyone who ever saw me play knows I had plenty of material."

Once Bob slayed friend Al Hirt's Atlanta night club. Soon TV's "Merv
Griffin," "Mike Douglas," and "The Tonight Show" called. How do you catch
a knuckler? he asked Carson. Wait till it stops rolling and pick it up. Who held
the record for passed balls? LIecker did. "But it had a good side. I got to meet
a lot of people in the box seats."

Soon he began filling them at the Braves' old home.

In 1970, the Seattle Pilots moved to Milwaukee. A year later, Bob joined
Brewers WTMJ Radio/TV. "Hard to believe, but his problem was finding
stuff to say," said partnerTom Collins. Uke repeated count and score, puffing
one cigarette after another. "I'd never done play-by-play, unless you count
beer cups."

The greenhorn did each bottom of the fifth inning. One night Collins and
Merle Harmon left him alone. "I look up and they're gone!" Surviving, Bob
joined ABC's new "Monday Night Baseball" in 1976. Said Roone Arledge:
"It'll take something different for it to work"-i.e., curb yawns and lulls. The
real difference, he hoped, was Uke.

"I thought we'd be great," said Mr. Baseball. Instead, colleagues Warner
Wolf and Bob Prince flopped. Uke, Cosell, and Keith Jackson did the A.L.
playoff. "Bob," said Humble Howard, "was the only person in the series to
have his reputation helped," calling it through 1981.

Once Cosell, saying truculent, claimed that the ex-jock couldn't possibly
know its meaning.

"Sure, I do, Howie," said Uke, deadpan. "If you had a truck and 1bor-
rowed it, that would he a truck you lent."

Cosell hated athletes-turned-announcers. Bob was the exception. "The
man's bigger than the game, bigger than the team, bigger than the league,
bigger than the sport," Howard gloated. "They talk about a new commissioner. If I had my pick, it would be you, Bob Uecker."

"Howard," he sighed, "I wish I had time."

Time ran through: TV's "Mr. Belvedere," as a harried writer/dad, "Hee Haw,"
"Late Night With David Letterman," "Saturday Night Live,""Superstars,""The Midnight Special,"`Bob Uecker's Wacky World of Sports,"`Bob Uecker's War
of the Stars," and "Battle of the Network Stars," fleeing the Atlantic in a
double-breasted jacket. Films Major League I, II, and Iii starred Uke as wellsloshed Harry Doyle. "Juuuuust a bit outside," he called a pitch to the lower
deck. A batter "crashed one toward South America." Above all, 1980s Lite
Beer for Miller personae -the poor soul, the hapless naif--spun fame
beyond the game.

Even now, ads seduce. "Wow! They're having a good time in there!" cries
Uke, banned from a bar. "So I lied," trying to crash it by claiming to be Whitey
Ford. "One of the best things about being in the big leagues is getting freebies to the game. Call the front office-bingo!" he heads for a box. Barred,
Bob hallucinates, "Oh, I must be in the front rooow!" Not exactly. "Good
seats, eh, buddy?" he says from the upper deck.

"His caricature [as] the poor knucklehead who keeps getting locked out
of bars and dumped on by fans gave him ... a cult following," wrote S/'s
William Taaffe. "Outside the booth, Uecker's shtick is he's so dense and such
a blowhard, yet so ... out of it-after all, he doesn't even know that people
are on to him that he's lovable." An ad showed Bob howling, "He missed the
tag! He missed the tag!" Missing: anonymity. Added Taaffe: "Uke is the man
who made mediocrity famous."

Uke became Brewers lead Voice in 1980. "On stage he's funny," said
broadcast head Bill Haig. "People who know his comedy are surprised he's
not like that on the air."The '82ers surprised by taking the L.C.S. and an
I1-0 Series opener. Paul Molitor had a record Five hits. Robin Yount twice
got four. St. Louis won Games Six-Seven at its Parthenon. "A stadium rally
will welcome the Brewers home," read the Milwaukee Sentinel. Yount entered
on a motorcyle. A chant rose: "It just doesn't matter."

What did: loyalty (1974-93), durability (2,856 games), and longevity
(3,142 hits). "Growing up, I saw guys play their career in one city," said
Bob. "Not with today's bucks. One of the last one-town players will be
Yount," driving his Harley to County Stadium. "You see hibachis, weddings, a sense of community and Robin helped make it," like the team's
other Mr. B.

"I'm not a Hollywood guy," Uke kept insisting. "Baseball and broadcasting
are in my blood." His type was radio.

"You paint a picture in the mind. It's better than TV, where you can't get away
with much. Nothing like saying, `Man, there's a homer to deep right,' then see the shortstop grab a pop." A real dinger spawned Uke's "Get up, get up,
get outta here, gone!"

In 1983, a franchise-high 2,397,131 jammed the front row. Next
season Bob got a replica of County's worst seat: 9, row 20, section 29.
Juan Nieves's gem capped the '87ers' 13-0 start. "A swing and a drive to
center!" said Uecker. "Robin is chasing-a long run--he's got it with a
diving catch! A diving, sensational catch by Robin Yount to preserve the
no-hitter! Nieves is being mobbed! What a play by Robin- --the final out
of the game!"

Milwaukee's final act reclaimed its 195 3-65 league. "Wow! I get to cover
teams I rode the bench for"-connecting tissue, then and now.

"Planted a new crop," a letter began.

Another: "Son got married."

He read them on the air-"even ones that say, `You stink.'" Larry Haney
was a 1977-78 Brewer. Two decades later, Uke K'd his boy in a father--son
game. "He was seven. I'm proud of that."

Called: NBC's 1995 and 1997 World Series. Suffered: a 1998 back operation, replacing four discs, from "too much time sitting on the bench." Retired:
from network baseball, due to rehabilitation. Named: escaping a rundown; winning a game by walking with the bases full; watching from the upper deck;
making most games; and hearing games on radio that Uke didn't.

"My greatest thrills. Some life, huh?"

Bob helped emcee County's September 28, 2000, closing. Next year, Milwaukee's new field opened, selling 106 obstructed fourth-level "Decker
seats" for $1 each.

In 2002, Miller Park housed the All-Star Game. Uke threw out the first
pitch, regressed to his 40-foot boat on Lake Michigan, and missed the 7-all
tie. "Ran out of pitchers! My teams said they ran out of catchers-and I
wasn't even in the game."

Cooperstown became Ueckerstown in 2003. "I got a call from Saddam
Hussein, but I haven't heard from the President yet." On Induction Day, Bob
told the crowd: "I am honored. But I still think I should have gone in as a
player." Pointing to 44 nearby Hall of Famers, he added, "A lot of them were
my teammates but won't admit it."

Anyone with ability could make the bigs. "To trick people year in and
year out is, I think, a much greater feat." Some kids never grow up. Ah, we
fans, we love 'em.

BOB VECKER

JERRY DOOOETI'

In an "I Love Lucy" episode, Ricky Ricardo loses his job. He calls himself a
"has-ran," then "also-been." Lucy corrects him: "has-been." For a long time
Jerry Doggett feared being an also-ran. "I wasn't even a has-been," he
laughed. "Hadn't done enough."

In 1930, Jerry, 14, moved to Iowa from Missouri. Herbert Hoover said,
"We in America are nearer the final triumph over poverty than ever before in
the history of any land." He was wrong. Men on benches ("Hoover bed"),
near a rabbit ("Hoover dog"), slept under a paper ("Hoover blanket"). You
would do anything for a job.

Doggett soon joined his mother in Chicago. "I'd wanted to write
about sports," he said, "hut I didn't have the ability, so I tried to talk my
way through." Radio school and a Broadcasting magazine ad snagged Longview of the East Texas League. "Eighty dollars a month. In 1938, it
seemed like a million."

For three years, Doggett coveted the Texas League. "I wanted [and in
1941, got] its Dallas team." Jerry's right arm was teletype: "You'd make up
hits like you were at the park." In 1948, rights spun to KLIF. Gordon
McLendon wanted Dizzy Dean, whose greed saved Doggett's job.

"When Diz's talks collapsed, it took me a while to react. I wasn't used to
a happy ending." He had less time to grasp McLendon's wunderkind.

In 1950, Jerry became Liberty Broadcasting System's "Game of the Day"
travel, scheduling, and play-by-play director. On September 30, 1951, it ferried Gordon, live from Boston (Giants, 3-2), and Doggett, re-creating from
Philadelphia (Bums, 9-7) Jackie Robinson's sprawling catch and 14th-inning
homer. Enter Bobby Thomson.

"Great coverage," Doggett said, "and Voices Curt Gowdy, Lindsey
Nelson. I hoped we'd go on forever." Instead, it went to Chapter 11. Paul Stuki
sang, "I would not give you false hope." Shedding his, Jerry retrieved the Texas
League. In 1952, Lindsey called an NBC golf tourney, Doggett rendering
grandly as an aide. Tom Gallery remembered when Brooklyn phoned in 19 5 5.

"Desmond's drinking again," blurted vice-president Buzzie Bavasi.
"We're replacing him, and I've got four finalists' tapes." Jerry's began. "Don't
bother with the others," Tom interrupted. Finally, after the bus rides and
fleabags, success---or was it? Doggett was to join Vin Scully in February
1956. A month earlier Connie got another chance.

Dazed, Jerry recouped jobs just resigned "the weirdest being Dallas
baseball. A Giants team, and I'm talking with the Dodgers!" That August,
Bavasi called again. Connie had flunked: Could Doggett hop a plane? "I
arrive, look at New York, and figure I'm out of my league." In October, he
returned to Texas, an also-ran no more.

The team bought a 44-passenger plane: "looking back," said Jerry, "for
long road trips from L.A." Doggett, Scully, and Al Helfer sang a season-long
adieu. The Dodgers packed for California. Would the not-yet has-been join
them? Walter O'Malley nodded.

On April 19, 1958, a then-N.L. record 78,682 filled the Coliseum. Its successor rose in 1962. "I'll never forget my first visit," Jerry said. "I'm sure
hearts were breaking hack East. But I talked with Walter, and he was as
pleased as a person could be."

Dodger Stadium smelt red clay, a view of downtown, and a Brooklyn
twist. "The foul poles were in foul ground. How could you hit a home run?"
Jim Murray wrote. The plate moved a year later so that the poles were fair.

L. A. won four Series through 1981. Old habits die hard. It lost in 1966,
1974, and 1977-78. Doggett etched the first switch-hitting infield. Chavez
Ravine led the league in name-dropping: Sinatra, Danny Kaye, Doris Day. The
biggest name made baseball lush and humming, a place to leave the world behind.

"I worked with the best broadcaster to come down the road," Doggett
said of the bigs' then-longest radio/TV team. "We haven't got married yet,"
mused Scully. "We've got to pick out silver and get ready." Did Caruso have
an alter diem? Barrymore, opening act? We recall the star, not cast.

Jerry knew that would apply to him. He had made it; that sufficed. "I was
an average announcer whose greatest break was to work with Vin," he said,
retiring in 1987, a decade before death. "My life shows it pays not to give
up"-also, to be second banana to the biggest banana on the tree.

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