Voices of Summer: Ranking Baseball's 101 All-Time Best Announcers (66 page)

"Finally, I am getting the impact of what this means," Jaime said Induction Week. Son Jorge-"The Captain"-began covering traffic for English
and Spanish radio.

A baseball in his office bore Dad's and Scully's name: L.A. "[becoming]
the only team with two active Hall of Famers." Added ex-owner Peter
O'Malley: "If Jaime'd wore a uniform, we'd retire the number."

The Cuban patriot Jose Marta said, "I am America's son. To her I belong."
For decades Jaime belonged to baseball. Finally it belongs to him. The
Spanish "Mi casa es su casa" means "My house is your house." No longer must
Hispanics enter through the bigs' back door.

JAIME JARRIN

illy Gomez, who played bass with pianist Billy Evans, termed
the jazzman's aim "to make music that balanced passion and
intellect." Dizzy Dean's sired idiom. Joe Buck's reflects a
hipper, rougher time. Vin Scully's changes tunes within a batter. One pitch
recalls a Dodgers stopper: the next, hit to shortstop, the Ancient Marinerhe stoppeth one in three.

Voices can be beach bud, mountain messenger, summer music, nighttime
light, and pillow pal. "They don't just broadcast baseball. They are baseball,"
wrote Jayson Stark. When Ernie Harwell did football, neighbors asked what
he did each winter. "They didn't know. In baseball, you're on so much,
people appreciate you more."

Byrum Saam painted like a minimalist. Ned Martin fused irony and melody.
Whatever the play or game, Ernie Johnson plucked a story from the shelf.

"Two little ladies entered the park about the fifth inning and sat down
behind a priest," he said. "`What's the score, Father?' they said.

"The priest said, `Nothing-nothing.'

"One lady told the other, `Oh, good, we haven't missed anything.'

"In the eighth inning a pinch-hitter batted for the local team. He makes
the sign of the cross before stepping into the box. The little old lady leaned
over and said, `Father, Father, will that help?' The priest turned around and
said, `Not if he can't hit."'

Voices of Summer ranks baseball's all-time greatest 101 announcers by criteria
detailed in Chapter One: longevity, continuity, network coverage, kudos, language, popularity, persona, voice, knowledge, and miscellany. Each criterion is rated from 1 (try another job) to 10 points (creme d'la creme). A perfect score
is 100. As the reader has seen, some Voices have the same point total. "Prologue" describes how longevity, continuity, network, and kudos break the tie.
If still deadlocked, the tie-breaker is the average fan's view as perceived by the
author. The scorecard:

1. Vin Scully (100 points). 2. Mel Allen (99). 3. Ernie Harwell (97). 4. Jack Buck
(96) 5. Red Barber (95). 6. Harry Caray (94). 7. Bob Prince (94). 8. Jack Brickhouse (93). 9. Dizzy Dean (92). 10. Lindsey Nelson (92). 11. Curt Gowdy (91).
12. Bob Decker (91). 13. Chuck Thompson (91). 14. Jon Miller (91). 15. Joe Garagiola (90). 16. Bob Elson (90). 17. Tim McCarver (90). 18. Bob Costas (90). 19.
Jerry Coleman (89). 20. Bob Murphy (89). 21. Ned Martin (89). 22. Al Michaels
(89). 23. Bob Wolff (89). 24. Milo Hamilton (87). 25. Harry Kalas (87). 26. Dave
Niehaus (87). 27. Phil Rizzuto (87). 28. Jaime Jarrin (87). 29. Lon Simmons (86).
30. Byrum Saam (86). 31. Marty Brennaman (86). 32. Merle Harmon (85). 33.
Graham McNamee (85). 34. Herb Carneal (84). 3s. Ken Coleman (84). 36. Tony
Kubek (84). 37. Gene Elston (84). 38. Dick Enberg (84). 39. Joe Buck (84). 40.
Jim Woods (83). 41. Jimmy Dudley (83). 42. Ralph Kiner (83). 43. Ernie Johnson
(83). 44. Dave Van Horne (82). 45. Skip Caray (82). 46. Tom Cheek (82). 47.
Denny Matthews (81). 48. Bud Blattner (81). 49. Vince Lloyd (81). 5o. Ken Harrelson (81). 51. Russ Hodges (81). 52. Sean McDonough (81). 53. Richie Ashburn (80). 54. Monte Moore (80). 55. George Kell (80). 56. Bill O'Donnell (80).
57. Gary Cohen (79). 58. John Sterling (79). 59. Pete Van Wieren (79). 60. Joe
Morgan (79). 61. Ross Porter (79). 62. Waite Hoyt (78). 63. Don Drysdale (78).
64. Dave Campbell (78). 65. Jim Kaat (78). 66. John Rooney (78). 67. DeWayne
Staats (77). 68. Hal Totten (77). 69. Al Helfer (77). 70. Gary Thorne (77). 71.
Lanny Frattare (76). 72. Bill King (76). 73. Hank Greenwald (76). 74. Joe Castiglione (76). 7s. Pat Hughes (76). 76. Ray Scott (75). 77. Bob Starr (75). 78. Jim
Britt (75). 79. Joe Angel (75). 80. Bill White (74). 81. Earl Gillespie (74). 82. Mark
Holtz (74). 83. Gordon McLendon (74). 84. Tom Manning (73). 85. Arch
McDonald (73). 86. Pee Wee Reese (73). 87. Jack Graney (72). 88. Jerry Doggett
(71). 89. Gene Kelly (71). 9o. Connie Desmond (70). 91. Rosey Rowswell (70). 92.
Van Patrick (69). 93. Bert Wilson (69). 94. France Laux (68). 95. Joe Nuxhall (67).
96. Mel Proctor (67). 97. Ty Tyson (65). 98. Pat Flanagan (65). 99. Fred Hoey
(62). 100. Johnny O'Hara (61). 101. Harold Arlin (60).

In September Song, "the days dwindle down to a precious few." Some feel that
baseball's radio/TV artisans dwindle down each year.

"When I started, we didn't have models," said Harwell. "Now guys are
trained at radio school and college," sounding dull, programmed, and alike.
"Bad game, you need to leave the game," boomed Jim Woods. Alas, as Red
Barber said, "Radio and television have forgotten about the most beautiful
thing I know next to human love, and that's the English language."

Except for Lindsey Nelson, the top 16 Voices of Summer began on radio.
On TV, they merely eased the tempo: 78 turned 45 RPM. Many now start on
video, deem radio shabby-genteel, and use "TV's sparse approach on radio,
which doesn't work," Bob Wolff observed. Worse, some prefer other sports,
thinking baseball nothing special.

You don't awake at age 35 and suddenly become, say, a Pirates fan. Said
Jon Miller: "You have to follow it from childhood"-a small boy's link to the
outside. Baseball's rhythm exposes a Voice's ignorance: a fraud, a poseur! A
lifetime of study lets you chat around a fire. A listener can tell.

"It's conversation. It's quirky. Tell us what you did today," said Bob Costas.
"Tell me about the guy sitting down at the end of the dugout. Is he a character?
Does he come from some tiny little town in Arkansas somewhere? Did he always
dream of being a big-leaguer? How did he get here? It's a story-teller's game."

Quoting Eugene O'Neill, Scully often says of a weak infield hit, "A
humble thing, but thine own." On May 3, 1959, he spun poetry alien to
another sport. Roy Campanella, crippled a year earlier, was wheeled near the
pitcher's mound. Lights dimmed, like the catcher's broken body. Each guest
lit a match, like Campy's vaulting heart.

"The lights are now starting to come out, like thousands and thousands
of fireflies, starting deep in center field, glittering around to left, and slowly
the entire ballpark ... a sea of lights at the Coliseum. Let there be a prayer
for every light," said Vin, speaking beautifully, magically. At such a time, the
announcer seems connecting tissue between the public and the game.

Brief portions of this book have appeared in slightly different form in Voices
of f The Game and Storied Stadiums.