Apr 14 2009
Thank You, Harry!
It was April 18, 1987, at Three Rivers Stadium in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Top of the 9th, two outs, our Philadelphia Phillies losing 6-5. I can remember it like it was yesterday, poised on the edge of my parents bed and glued to the only TV we had at the time. I was watching my childhood hero, Mike Schmidt, as he was about to make history, but the soundtrack of his great feat was being delivered by a much more unassuming icon.
“The 3-0 pitch. Swing and a long drive, there it is, number 500! The career 500th home run for Michael Jack Schmidt! And the Phillies dugout comes swarming out to home plate! The Phillies have regained the lead at Pittsburgh 8 to 6.”
The transcript doesn’t do the call justice. It was absolute passion, absolute joy. It was a fan being a fan and it was everything I was feeling at that moment, delivered with the eloquence and energy that we all wished we could muster at times like that, but none of us are Harry Kalas.
Yesterday Harry was preparing for an afternoon game between the Phils and the Nationals in Washington, D.C., when he was found collapsed in the booth. He was rushed to the hospital to no avail. The voice that was the soundtrack of so many summers had left us to rejoin his long time broadcasting partner, Richie “Whitey” Ashburn, who had passed in 1997. Many of us heard the news as we tuned in for the pregame show hosted by one of Harry’s favorite Phillies, Mitch Williams. Mitch was clearly overcome with emotion, like the rest of us, as we were all forced to come to terms with the loss of a man who was more than just a baseball announcer and more than just a local celebrity.
Harry was one of us. He was a fan first and a broadcaster next, but he did both with more skill and love than any who came before him. He loved Philadelphia. He loved the Phillies. He loved the game of baseball. Most importantly though, he loved us, the fans. Harry never separated himself from his audience, never shied from an autograph or a story. He was always available, always humble, and always more interested in finding out about you than in talking about himself.
Many of us in Philadelphia know no other voice of the Phillies. He broadcast for Major League Baseball for 41 years, 36 of them with the Phils. If you’re under 40 you probably dont remember another broadcaster leading the way. In those nearly 4 decades the Phils had many up years, and more than their fair share of down. But it didn’t matter to Harry. He loved the game so much, loved the team so much, that win or lose he shared the same enthusiasm. He was the fan we all wanted to be, honest but optimistic. When Chase Utley squeezed a run from second base on a routine infield grounder he belted out “Chase Utley, you are the man!” No one could have said it better.
In 1980, revenue driven policies from MLB prevented Harry from calling the Phillies World Championship victory. Luckily, in 2008 those rules no longer existed, at least for radio, and we all got to hear the words we had waited oh so long to hear.
“The 0-2 pitch. Swing and a miss! Struck him out! The Philadelphia Phillies are 2008 World Champions of baseball! Brad Lidge does it again, and stays perfect for the 2008 season! 48 for 48 in save opportunities, and watch the city celebrate!Don’t let the 48-hour wait diminish the euphoria of this moment, and the celebration. And it has been 28 years since the Phillies have enjoyed a World Championship; 25 years in this city with a team that has enjoyed a World Champion, and the fans are ready to celebrate. What a night!”
25 years of hope, frustration, and pent up emotion, all let lose in those eloquent words. Harry celebrated with us. He knew how we felt. He put it so perfectly.
Harry knew the players better than anyone. He was a part of the team. Where there would otherwise be a clear delineation between the team and the media, Harry transcended. He rode in the back with the players, playing cards and sharing stories. He was our man in the clubhouse, behind the scenes, and many players loved him just as much as he loved them. A knickname given by Harry always stuck, even if it was something as off the wall as “Mitchy-poo”. You had to be there to understand. But while players come and go, Harry was always there. His career spanned far more than most, and he shared much more of his life than any player could. Plays and the players who make them will likely fade from our memory, but like it’s been said, one thing is forever:
“Swing and a long drive! Watch that baby! Outta here!!”
Harry’s voice was as memorable as anything in Philadelphia sports, instantly recognizable, comforting, and always welcome. You heard it everywhere in the greater Philadelphia area from center city to down the shore. The mere sound stirs emotions and feelings that are deeply personal to each of us, and those feelings wont soon be forgotten. In fact, it’s the thought of losing those feelings that makes his passing so tough.
The Phillies won yesterday afternoon against with the Nationals, but the broadcast was far more centered on Harry than the game. Rain moved in after the game and continues to pour down today. At this point it’s scheduled to ease up shortly before tomorrow nights rematch in Washington, and we all know Harry wouldn’t have it any other way. It’s fitting that we have a dreary, bitter off-day to mourn. A day to tell stories and share memories. The emotional clouds will hang far longer, but the game, that game Harry loved, that team, those fan, us, must go on.
We love you Harry. Thank you for everything.