Old Friends on Opening Day

The players may be the heroes, but on Opening Day, I can't help but think of those who become our friends and companions throughout the springs, summers, and falls across the generations: the Voices of the Game. Many of those who have entertained me are no longer with us. Curt Gowdy and Joe Garagiola, who broadcast the Game of the Week when I was a child, along with Tony Kubek, who lives in Toronto in retirement, had the only game I got to watch each week, before cable showed up. Mr. Buck's voice is as familiar and present to my ear today as it was the day he died in 2002. Mel Allen was the voice of This Week in Baseball by the time I heard his voice. "How 'bout that?" For me, Red Barber was Bob Edwards' guest on Fridays on Morning Edition. He was a brilliant communicator throughout his long and rich life, including giving a young, untried broadcaster named Vin Scully his first Major League Baseball job in 1950. I couldn't even begin to calculate the hours I spent with the Braves' classic crew: Ernie Johnson, Skip Caray, and Pete Van Wieren were on twice a night when TBS had a late-night Braves' replay every night. Now, Don Sutton is missing from the Braves' booth, too. And Harry Caray. Holy Cow, Harry Caray! Did anybody ever love the game more than Harry? Did anybody ever have more fun on their job than Harry? I don't think so! I miss Ron Santo being in the Cubs' booth, too. I didn't know it when he was playing, but Ron Santo was a slugging, Gold Glove third baseman, and a Type-1 diabetic, in the days before meters and pumps. He had to guess, as the game wore on. I don't know how he did it. But what Santo never had to guess about was his love and passion for the Chicago Cubs. He lived and died with every pitch. He kept coming to work, even after he had one leg amputated, and later the other, due to his diabetes. One thing that I can't forgive in regards to the Hall of Fame is that they didn't vote Ron Santo in until after he died. Who would have ever been happier about being included? No one! Baseball fans in the age of the internet were so fortunate that Dick Enberg came back to work for the Padres late in his career. What a delightful man, a great story teller, and articulate broadcaster! Ernie Harwell was a giant among men. I bought a big radio with an enormous antenna with a good portion of my high school graduation money in 1979, to listen to Braves' games on WSB 750 am, and discovered WJR 760 am in Detroit, and Mr. Harwell's broadcast. That radio, that sits on my bathroom counter and is played every day to this day, was good enough to differentiate 750 am from 760 am, way before digital dials were dreamed up. Mr. Harwell was everybody's grandfather. What a gentleman. He always declared winter over by reading The Voice of the Turtle when things began all over again. Dave Niehaus of the Mariners, Tom Cheek of the Blue Jays, Bill King of the A's, Lon Simmons and Russ Hodges of the Giants, and on and on. So many old friends from the radio and tv. Howard Cosell, on ABC's Monday Night Baseball. Howard Cosell! Loud, pompous, often obnoxious, and one of the very smartest, sharpest broadcasters who ever lived! I can still hear all of them, whenever I'm fortunate enough to think of them. And they are all happy memories!