PODCAST: ON THE DL
PODCAST: ON THE DL
This is the show we hoped to never have to do. Harry Kalas has died today. Rather than go through our usual show notes, we’ve each written a little something on what Harry has meant to us.
My post is up on the blog right here. The paragraphs below are Nick’s thoughts.
There are very few “where were you” moments in life and they are inevitably, for the most part, rooted in tragedy. Unfortunately today is one of those days for all fans of baseball and it is not hyperbole to say that the passing of Harry Kalas has cast a pall over the entire Delaware Valley and the Phillies family nationwide.
I often talk about the concept of “sports consciousness.” Of course I have vague recollections of important sporting events from a young age, but I believe that there is a moment in the life of every sports fan where they really start to follow the game and begin to build up the true memories of jubilation and heartache. For me that consciousness started in 1984 when I began to obsess over Sunday games, Topps cards, box scores and playing baseball daily from dawn to dusk in the swath of yard between my driveway and Ryan Polomski’s. I can remember settling in after church on Sundays to watch Richie Ashburn and Harry Kalas educate me on the nuances of the game and for that I am truly grateful to these two Hall of Famers. It was the beginning of the end for a great era in Phillies baseball (great timing on my part) but they were MY team and Harry and Whitey were MY broadcasters. It is rare for any sports fan to be graced with such consistency in a local broadcasting pair, but until my junior year in college these two were the ONLY baseball voices I had ever known.
And while Ashburn’s passing in September of 1997 had me weeping like a child in my dorm room at Richmond before class one morning, Harry’s death has been far more crippling. The true immediacy of today’s world ensured that this news shot like lightning through IM, Twitter, Facebook and text messages and made it all the more palpable because we were sharing and updating and asking “any new news yet?” The national outpouring of grief that has followed has shown what a presence he truly was (and I had a lot of trouble writing “was” just now) because let’s face it: if you have ever watched an NFL Films presentation, seen a Campbell’s soup commercial or caught a Sunday NFL game on Westwood One radio you have enjoyed the dulcet tones of one of the greatest broadcasters of this or any generation. Yet I had the pleasure and privilege of listening him call my team’s games for my entire adult life with the ultimate payoff being his strike three call last October as the Phillies won the 2008 World Series and gave Harry, and all of us, a moment we won’t soon forget.
Because of his age and recent health issues, it wasn’t exactly a shock that he had collapsed in the press box and passed away an hour later. But the reality that one of my true baseball heroes (who I had just snuck a surreptitious picture of one week ago at the home opener) is gone from my life has not really set in yet. I will always cherish his voice and the sense of friendship that he instilled in every Phillies fan. Harry: I love you; I miss you; and I know for a fact that you and Richie are calling a game somewhere right now where Whitey just wished Mildred a happy 1,573rd birthday and found a way to score a free pizza for the 7th inning stretch. Good bye old friend.
Monday, April 13, 2009
On the DL Podcast - We Miss You Harry