Voices of Summer: Ranking Baseball's 101 All-Time Best Announcers (61 page)

Seeing dad, Joe plunked a hug and kiss. "Take it easy, kid," Jack cautioned.
"Not everybody knows we're father and son."

Like pop, Joe felt baseball "the last thing I think about before I fall
asleep-and the first thing I think about when I wake up in the morning."

They differed in time and place.

Pop's youth and game were umbilically attached. A generation learned that
Lincoln, on his deathbed, told Abner Doubleday, "General, preserve baseball
for the future." Many Generation Xers felt it an anachronism. A sport without
attitude? Sooner grunge shirts with starch. Joe grew up as trash became king;
deviance, first minister. The culture affected. It did not overwhelm.

Mojo, rising. Joe was born in St. Petersburg on April 25, 1969. "If the
Cardinals'd trained in Oklahoma," he said, "I'd have come out crying there."
Hannibal lay 118 miles from St. Louis. Like Tom Sawyer, Joe soon began
missing school. "I'd do homework on road trips." Grandma ghost-wrote
papers. Mom signed absences. "She knew how important it was to me to he
with my dad."

Buck never took geometry, diagrammed a sentence, or read An American
Tragedy. "I'd follow Dad into the clubhouse, the parking lot, and hold his beer
while he signed autographs." Joe copied him on a tape recorder. In Las Vegas,
he watched the old man play craps. "On those trips the broadcasting was
about the 10th most important thing."

In 1987, the Bucks and colleague Mike Shannon man the booth. Suddenly, pa says, "The birthday boy [18] will take us through the fifth inning."
He and Shannon leave. Like Jack a half-century earlier, Joe was on his own.
Entering Indiana University, he called ESPN's 1989 Triple-A All-Star Game.

"Keep your volume low, repeat the score, don't treat it like War and
Peace," Jack said.

Joe smiled at the memory. "Where could you get better advice?" Soon
junior joined senior's firm. "Even then, I had to remind myself that it
wouldn't be like this forever."

Nightly Carole heard their father-and-son reunion. "You were never aware
that they were related on the air," she said. "But if I had a choice of listening to
one or the other, it was Joe. But that's a mother talking."

In 1993, Buck began talking on CBS Radio's "Game of the Week." Listening, I had no idea that, spoiled by the calendar, he was all of 24.

Until 1987, network TV owned an NFL monopoly. Cable ESPN and TNT
then joined the clan. In 1993, Godfather CBS lost rights to Fox. "I was
working at KMOX when I heard the story. My first thought was all the days
I spent at the stadium seeing my father do football [CBS TV, then Radio].
Never did I think of whom Fox might hire."

Mom did.

In 1994, Carole collared Fox Sports head Ed Goren at the Super Bowl:
"If you're putting together football, you can't do it without Joe!" Nodding,
president David Hill added baseball, yelping, "No more dead guys!" Babe
Ruth flunked the test. Nepotism passed. Buck, 26, became lead "Game of the
Week"man. Other Voices were Chip Caray, Thom Brennaman, and John
Rooney. Mickey Rooney denied DNA.

Ironically, Brat Pack leavening sprung from Jack's ex-CBS analyst.
Unlike dad, Joe and Tim McCarver fused. "The play-by-play man [should]
explain what and where and analyst answer why and how," Tim said. "He
does both." In 1996, Buck became youngest Series Voice since 195 3's Vin
Scully, 25. "When I think of announcers who went before, it sends chills
up your spine.

The Classic opened in the Bronx. Afterward Joe called home. "What
time is the game on?" Jack asked: no swelled head for sonny. Interrupting,
mom assured that pop heard each word. A week later, Fox announced a 17.4
Nielsen rating. "Three times our nightly norm," said Hill. "That's why we got
into baseball [for $120 million a year]."

Joe grasped the bottom line. "I refuse to fill a page about what baseball
means to me with the typical syrup," he mocked, adding, "Oh, God, pass the
syrup." Its symbol: a red-haired titan who seemed cleaner than a Gillette Blue
Blades shave.

"Not even Hemingway," Buck said, "could explain what Mr. McGwire
meant."

In 1997, McGwire left Oakland for St. Louis a slugger but not a hero-"not
especially known around the country," Joe mused. He ended the year with 58
homers, tying Jimmie Foxx for most by a righty. The '98ers drew a franchise
high 3,195,021. "McGwire is almost solely responsible," wrote Sports Illustrated, "for this era of unprecedented interest in the Cardinals."

On September 7, Mac's No. 61 tied Roger Maris. Next night Fox showed
Cards-Cubs. Buck had scripted No. 62. "There it goes," he planned to say.
"Here it is. A new single-season home run champion, Mark McGwire, as he
floats around the bases and into the history books." Instead, Mac hit a textbusting blast vs. Steve Trachsel. "Down the left-field line, is it enough?" Joe
said, no time to amplify. "Gone! There it is, 62. Touch first, Mark [he missed,
then tagged, it], you are the new single-season home run king!"

I was flying to New York. The pilot announced Mac's blast. Passengers
began applauding. At Busch Stadium, history, fireworks, and 43,688 fused.
"Everybody in the park was a fan," said Buck. "I broadcast like a fan. I'm not
so sure that on a night like that it's wrong to act like a fan." McGwire
embraced members of the Maris family. Blacked out in Chicago, Fox still got
a 14.5 rating. "I'm worn out. How much can we take?" Mark took it to the
limit: 5 homers in his last 11 ups.

Signs dappled Closing Day: "McGwire, You Are the Man." Buck was
doing football. Mac faced Carl Pavano. "Swing! And it, get up, baby, get up,
get up, get up!" caroled Mike Shannon. "He's done it again! Seventy home
runs! Take a ride on that for history! How can you end a season better than
Big Mac has just done?"

In 2001, Fox began six-year "Game," All-Star, and postseason exclusivity. Joe
became its one size fits all. By 2006, his ninth TV Series would trail Gowdy
(12) and Allen and Scully (11). Only Curt topped Buck's seven, including
2000, in a row. On one hand, cable cut the audience. On the other, Fox's
quick cuts, miked managers, and FoxBox, a diamond graphic with updated
score, inning, count, out, and base runner, wowed.

Buck won a 1999, 2001-02, and 2004 Emmy. "Baseball is my stock
market, my assembly line, my court case, my operating table." Stock rose
in 2002: the busy camper, 33, replaced lead NFL Voice Pat Summerall,
70. Said S/: "Curt Gowdy and Al Michaels are the only other broadcasters ever to have been their networks' No. 1 Voice for baseball and football
simultaneously."

Joe aired four NFL and Division Series games in a week-"juggling
them, marriage, kids, and my side job as a clown" eager to seem cuttingedge. Si asked if he preferred nepotism or birthright. "Nepotism. It pisses
people off a lot more." Gowdy grew up with Tyrone Power. Buck kept a lifesized cutout of Mike Myers as Austin Powers. Curt's weekly "Game" was
national. Fox's 16-game menu was regional, began late May or early June,
and, like Joe, vanished at season's peak.

"That last month, they stick him on the NFL," barbed an ex-Fox Voice.
"Its baseball guy, on sabbatical, missing the most crucial time!" In 2004,
"Game" appeared only thrice after August 28. "Fox is MIA on the pennant
race, and Joe doesn't even do [September 18's] Red Sox-Yankees," said the
broadcaster. "What kind of sport would tolerate that?"

Plainly, baseball. "I don't think I'm destined for more than 10 more years
in baseball. I'm enjoying football," Buck told The NewYork Times. "The `Came
of the Week' isn't what it was. I put a lot of work into those games, but you
don't get the same payoff as you get from a great football game."

Fox was not your father's baseball network. As clear: Joe's grieving, over dad.

By 2002, Buck had cut his local schedule to 25 games. "I don't want to be
gone all the time. I was a part of this on the other end, with my dad gone a
lot and trying to spend more time with his kids." Jack entered the hospital in
January. Unable to speak, he heard Joe whisper, "You have to get out of here
and help me through the season."

On June 18, doctors removed the respirator. Doing a game-"Dad
woulda given me hell if I'd missed it" Joe arrived at Barnes-Jewish Hospital
near 11 P.M. "Go ahead and go," he said, unsure if Jack was breathing. "I have
everybody covered back here. I know what you did in your lifetime and we
all respect it. I've been given more than any son." He would admit to hero
worship. There are worse ways to regard your father.

The son left without looking back. "I knew what he was thinking. `Get
out of here, kid."' Jack died minutes later. That week, Cardinals pitcher
Darryl Kile also (lied. Buck, on "Game," didn't miss a beat. "Dad would have
wanted me to go get back to work. I just wish I could call him after a game
to talk about it now."

On occasion, Joe will call dad's cellphone to hear his best friend's voice.
Jack's signet was "That's a winner!" Perhaps he was speaking about his son.

JOE BUCK

"Some guys are lucky," said Pat Hughes. "They get that once-in-a-lifetime
year." Russ Hodges got 1951. The '69 Amazin's amazed Lindsey Nelson.
Baseball swung to 1998's McGwire-Sammy Sosa homerthon. "Baseball's
been very, very good to me," said Senor Sammy. He and Mac were very good
to Hughes.

As a teenager, Pat already liked the Cubs. "I'd hang around Candlestick
Park to see the players. One day I snuck into their clubhouse. Williams.
Santo. Ernie Banks was a friendly guy. He had such big hands. I remember
him shaking my hand and squeezing it." Hughes left squeezing for the bigs.

He began at San Jose and Columbus. In 1983, Clippers boss George
Sisler got the A.L.'s Lee MacPhail to send a letter asking "if [teams] were
interested in checking me out." The Twins were. After a year, Pat left them
for Milwaukee. "Mr. Baseball! Try inventing Bob Uecker's wheel." A decade
later, the sport's needed it more.

A 1994 CBS poll showed the percentage of Americans liking baseball
down to 39 from 1990's 6 ].The strike evinced a game not content to leave bad enough alone. "Some timing," said Pat, joining WGN Radio in 1996.
"Baseball had become the Flying Dutchman." Needed: Port Reborn.

"What a record-assaulting, home run-blasting summer," S/ wrote of
1998. Bars, stores, and water coolers mixed echo chamber and rumor factory. "You couldn't go anywhere, and not be affected," Bud Selig added.
Sammy had never had forty dingers: on June 20, he hit No. 20 of the month.

Sosa and Mac dueled Ruth and Maris. Their Great Race fueled a feud.
Even in bad years each team filled the other's park. "Forget Red Sox-Yankees," said Hughes. "Baseball's greatest rivalry is Cardinals-Cubs."

In 1998, adherents howled like reprobates. "In St. Louis, Cubs fans would
cheer Sosa. In Chicago, it got bananas when McGwire launched one onto Waveland." The Race would have stirred, at any rate. Cubs-Cardinals made it sing.

"Daily the pressure rose," said Hughes, "the crowds, reporters, history, the
drama." Daily he fretted about No. 62. "It's okay to plan a few words,"
warned Milo Hamilton, calling Hank Aaron's 715, "but you have to sound
extemporaneous." On September 8, Mac "drives one to deep left-this could
be!-it's a home run!" Pat bayed. "Number 62 for Mark McGwire!" Pause.
"A slice of history and a magical moment in St. Louis! A line drive home run
to left for Mark McGwire of the St. Louis Cardinals!"

Mark hugged his mates and 10-year-old son at the plate. Sosa clasped him
near the first-base line. "Incredible. I had tears in my eyes," said Hughes. Joe
Buck and Mike Shannon also aired the Maris-breaker. Tense and vivid, Pat's
call is most replayed, even now.

On September 11, Sosa's 61 and 62 left Wrigley. Of 65, Hughes cried"' Holy
cow!' and `Hey-hey!' for Harry [Carat'] and Jack [Brickhouse]!" Sammy's
66th/last briefly took the lead. He finished first in runs, total bases, and RBI, was
second in homers and slugging, and hit at least 50 dingers a year through 2001.

In 2003, Sosa braved a corked-bat suspension. Hughes's partner bore
bladder surgery, had a leg amputated, and missed post-season. For Ron
Santo, the Cubs' collapse rivaled '69's. They led the L.C.S. , 3 games to 1. In
Game Six, Chicago, up, 3-0, was five outs from a Series.

"Our closest chance since '45," said Hughes. "It's gonna happen, we can
feel it"-until Florida's Luis Castillo sliced to left. "Toward the line. Alou
over. Does he have room? And leaping up, Alou cannot make the play!" Pat
said. Steve Stone: "And Moises is unhappy with the fan [Steve Bartman]! A fan
interfered with him! . . . If a fan just gets his hand out of the way, Moises
makes the catch! ... I can't believe that a fan would do that!"

We know the script: Marlins, 8-3. On cue, the Cubs died next night.
"Lifted to left. Playable for Conine. And the Marlins are going to the World
Series," Pat rued. "The Florida Marlins have stunned the Chicago Cubs, winning the last three in a row." There you go again: next year's team blew a lastweek wild card.