Voices of Summer: Ranking Baseball's 101 All-Time Best Announcers (50 page)

Gutting a 13-game Halos lead, the M's won an A. L. West playoff. Briefly
the Northwest forgot the NFL Seahawks. The Division Series began in New
York, Seattle losing twice. Dave threw out the first ball at the Kingdome's
post-season inaugural: Randy Johnson, 7-4. Next day Edgar Martinez
slammed: 1 1-8. In two weeks Seattle had become a baseball town. The final
showed why.

Eighth inning: M's tie. Ninth: Manager Lou Piniella inserts Randy. "He'd
pitched two days earlier. But he was the best we had." Eleventh: Yanks retake
a 5-4 edge. Payback followed. "Swung on and lined down the left-field line
for a base hit! Here comes Joey, and junior to third base ... and they're going
to wave him in! The throw to the plate will be late! The Mariners are going to
play for the American League championship! I don't believe it! It just continues! My, oh, my!"

That winter the legislature OK'd $320 million. "Once in a while, I'll
think of what saved baseball here," Niehaus mused in 2004. "1995."

No longer was Dave a Monet, etching a paint-by-number team. In 1996, he
brooked two angioplasties, abandoned vodka, steak, and Marlboro cigarettes, and drew shortstop Alex Rodriguez's first full season akin to Cronin,
Wagner, and Banks. Griffey became the A.L.'s ninth unanimous MVP. The
'97ers drew 3,192,2 37, many from Idaho, Oregon, Utah, and Montana. "For
the first time," added Niehaus, "we became a regional team."

Johnson and junior left for Houston and Cincinnati, respectively. A-Rod
got an A+ deal: $252 million from Texas, then NewYork. "Damndest thing,"
said Dave. "They leave, we win"-a 2001 record-tying 116 games. MVP Ichiro Suzuki hit .350. The Kingdome imploded. Its replacement, Safeco
Field, strutted arched windows, bleachers, and look from its upper deck of
Elliott Bay, Mount Rainier, Olympic Mountains, and ferries, ships, and sunsets from Albert Bierstadt.

Outside, the Burlington Northern freight whistle invoked rural Indiana.
"These trains going by are the park's signature," said Dave. "To me, it's a
romantic sound." Another knit the stands. Johnson was "humming along." A
strike "had some hair on it, baby." Enjoy "a nice little pitchers' duel." Blurted
ESPN's Jon Miller: "It's all here, it's gorgeous, it's got Niehaus, it's open air!"

Dave could be forgiven for feeling he had been paroled.

In 2000, he became the first member of the M's Hall of Fame. "I really feel as if I
know each ... of you," Niehaus told the crowd. "My, oh, my!" graced a banner,
forged a chant, and was drawn by grounds help in the dirt. "[He] could take an
ordinary losing game and make it a poetic winner," said Enberg. Sans fielder
"loping," runner "lumbering," or ball "belted! Deep to right field! Upper deck
time! Yes!" would there have been a team for Safeco to even house?

DAVE NIEHAUS

Some ask which Voice most loved baseball. Niehaus makes the cut.
"Finally," he says, "what a joy to call good players in a great park!"The 1930s
bred the Hudson Valley school of painting. Dave's school still swabs the Sound.

Few wreath America's oldest and greatest talking game like Jerry Coleman.
"I used to worry about Colemanisms," he said. "Now I figure they add to my
sex appeal."

Jesus Alou is "in the on-deck circus." Cy Younger Randy Jones was "the
left-hander with the Karl Marx hairdo." Recall "Winfield going back ... hack
... he hits his head against the wall. It's rolling toward second base!" Hail the
man "sliding into second with a stand-up double."

Sit back, "put a star on that baby," and laud the 1960 CBS TV and
1976-97 radio, 1963-69 Yankees, 1970-71 Angels, and 1972-79 and
1981- Padres Voice. Think of evolution, going yard. "Sometimes big trees
grow out of acorns. I think I heard that from a squirrel."

Born September 14, 1924, our linguist knew the way from San Jose. His road
led to high school in San Francisco, Yanks' Class D Wellsville, Pacific Theater,
and The Stadium in 1949. A year later, the second baseman became Associated Press Rookie of the Year. "He can throw backwards [on the double play],"
said Casey Stengel. "He must have a mirror hanging down his neck."

In World War II, a B-29 mirror helped spot Japanese. Soon the pilot of
57 bombing missions added 63 in Korea. "Feller and Williams were right," he
said. "What you do for America [ 13 Air Medals, three Navy citations, and two
Distinguished Flying Crosses] counts most." Retiring in 1957, Coleman
became Yanks personnel director. His CBS TV "[pre-] Game of the Week"
began in 1960. Instantly it almost closed.

Jerry was interviewing Cookie Lavagetto when the "Star-Spangled
Banner" started. "Better keep talking," the apprentice thought, and did
through the Anthem. Letters swamped CBS. "Believe me," he later said, "when
the Anthem starts I stop, whether I'm taping, talking, or eating a banana."

By 1963, Coleman made Yanks radio/TV, having never even kept score.
He was scheduled for a full inning. Instead, 12 men hit in the top half. "I think
you've had enough," said Mel Allen. Jerry agreed. "I went over to the corner,
got into a fetal position, curled up," and stayed.

Life on the point. "You're so insecure at first that you need someone to pat
you on the back." Instead, a sadist mailed a record "Famous Jungle Sounds,"
writing, "Listen to yourself." A road twinbill upped angst. Tribe lefties Sam
McDowell and Jack Kralick are to pitch. Game One's starter blanks New
York inning after inning. "Sam was a strikeout guy with erratic control,"
Coleman gawked, "hut his control this day was astounding."

In the sixth inning, he learns why. WPIX NewYork telephones the booth.
"Is that McDowell?"

Jerry turns to Indians Voice Bob Neal. "Who's pitching?"

Bob lip-synchs: "Kralick."

Four decades later the face still dropped. "They were similar in build,"
Coleman said. "But even that doesn't explain how we had the wrong guy
pitching."

Mary Poppins moaned, "Things began to happen to me."Jerry's never stopped.

I he told
guess you ladies wear the pants when your husbands are gone,"
Dave McNally's wife. She smiled: "And we take them off when they come home."

One warm day Coleman stripped to shorts in Kansas City. A woman
complained. "So I had to put my pants back on. Not that I took them off that
often, anyway."

Jerry took off in 1970 for Angels television. In 1972, inheriting a hemophiliac, he tried to staunch the blood. The 1974 Padres were nearly sold to a
Washington, D. C. buyer. Saving them for San Diego, McDonald's founder
Ray Kroc snatched the P.A. mike Opening Day: "This is the most stupid
ballplaying I've ever seen." Next day he apologized. Jerry couldn't grasp why.

Coleman managed the 73-89 1980 Pads. "There's a generation gap between
Jerry and the players," rued GeneTenace. None split Jerry and his cult. In 1980,
he returned to radio, "where I'm probably more comfortable. Most players think
I was born at 45."

At about that point "all this stuff began about me being nuts."

It angers friends that Colemanisms cloud smart prose, a fine voice, and
decency. "Beloved," said the White Sox' John Rooney. "Sure, he has screwups,
but the biggest will be if he doesn't make Cooperstown." Many Voices blur.
Jerry struts identity. "He'd be excellent in any event," said Bob Costas. "Goofs
make him unforgettable"-Ol' Diz via Casey Stengel to George W. Bush.

"He's [John Grubb] under the warning track."A hitter lined "up the alley
... oh, it's foul." Dave Winfield led off first-"always a threat to grow." Nolan
Ryan has "the most elastic arm ever made by human hands." The Pads waived Glenn Beckert. "Before he goes, I hope he stops by the booth so we can kiss
him good-bye. He's that kind of guy."

Coleman denies saying: "`Rick Folkers is throwing up in the bullpen.' I
said, `He's throwing them up."' Undeniable: "This is the only afternoon day
game in the National League"; "Next up is Barry Carry Garry Templeton";
"Pete Rose has three thousand hits and 3,014 overall"; and "There's a hard
shot to LeMaster-and he throws Madlock in the dugout."

Put a star on these babies:

• "Redfern won't be 22 until October. Hey, he's only 21."

• "Whenever you get an inflamed tendon, you got a problem.
Okay, here's the pitch to Gene Tendon."

• "It's swung on and Gamble sends a long fly to right, but Gamble
goes back to the wall and makes the catch."

• "They throw Winfield out at second, and he's safe."

• "Swung on and fouled to the backstop. Wait a minute, that was a
wild pitch and the runner moved over to second."

• "Reggie Smith of the Dodgers and Gary Matthews of the homers
hit Braves in that game."

• "And the final score: Chicago 8, the Cubs 5."

The envelope, please:

• "Gaylord Perry and McCovey should know each other like a
book. They've been ex-teammates for years."

• "Urrea had Owchinko in a hole, oh-two, but now the count is
even, three-two."

• "Over the course of a season, a miscue will cost you more games
than a good play."

• "Ron Guidry is not very big, maybe 140 pounds, but he has an
arm like a lion."

• "From the way Denny's shaking his head, he's either got an
injured shoulder or a gnat in his eye."

• "Royster has gone six-for-seven against Shirley this year ... and
there's a single that makes him five-for-eight."

• "Well, folks, that's it for the ninth inning. We're heading on into
the 12th."

God bless them, every one:

• "Young Frank Pastore may have just pitched the biggest victory
of 1979, maybe the biggest victory of the year."

• "The way he's swinging the bat, he won't get a hit until the twentieth century."

• "Bob Davis is wearing his hair differently, short and with curls
like Randy [Jones] wears. I think you call it a Frisbee."

• "Shortstop Ozzie Smith was so stunned with the news, he lost
his appetite right over the dinner plate."

• "[George] Hendrick simply lost that sun-blown pop-up."

• "Here's the 2-1 delivery. Strike 3, he's out!"

• A drug prevention ad ends. "Hats off to drug abusers everywhere."

Finally:

• "Hi, folks, I'm Jerry Gross."

In 1979, Winfield nearly made a leaping catch. "If he had made that play," said
Jerry, "they'd be throwing babies from the upper deck."They fell in 1984. San
Diego drew a record 1,983,904, won the N.L. West, and drew America's
Cubs in the L.C.S.The pivot was a Game-Four poke. "Hit high to right-center
field! Way back! Going! Going! It is gone!The Pads win it!" Coleman cried. "In
a game that absolutely defies description, Steve Garvey, in the ninth inning, hit
one over the 370-mark, and the Padres heat the Cubs, 7 to 5! Oh, doctor, you
can hang a star on that baby!"

In the Series, Detroit mimicked Stengel's Yanks. Punks burned cars,
smashed windows, and assailed passersby upon its end. Motowners rushed
the field. Jerry aired a post-game show. "At Tiger Stadium it's only 30 feet
from the field to the booth-so somebody picks up the idea of target practice." Dodging trash, he nearly charged the dry cleaning bill.

Next year Coleman added "Game of the Week" to CBS Radio's postseason. "He hadn't broadcast in the East since the sixties," said Costas. "People
heard what he could do." At 68, he took up skiing. By then, Tony Gwynn had
batted .394, Benito Santiago hit in 34 straight games, and L.A.'s Orel Hershiser
broke Don Drysdale's record 58 straight scoreless innings.The last 10 stung the
Pads. "There's a drive to right field!" said Jerry. "He's going to put it away! Oh,
doctor! History was born right here at San Diego!"

The 1993 N.L. L.C.S. matched Atlanta and Philadelphia. "It was a fantastic game last night," he told CBS. "I'm still trying to figure out who did
what, and why."The '98 Pads wrote another flag. The Series again fizzled: a
pinstriped sweep. A year later Gwynn got hit 3,000 at Montreal. "Rightcenter field! Base hit! And there it is! Oh-ho, doctor, you can hang a star on
that baby! A star for the ages for Tony Gwynn!" One Mr. Padre swings.
Another speaks.

In 2002, Jerry, 78, became the bigs' oldest full-time Voice. The '04 Pads
gave him an open-ended pact. On-deck circus. Karl Marx hairdo. Sliding
stand-up double. Babies tumbling from the upper deck. "Sometimes big trees
grow out of acorns."The legend grows, too.

JERRY COLEMAN