1 Few announcers have ever had a more devoted audience than the Dodgers' longtime voice, Vin Scully, who in the 1960s spawned the tradition of fans taking their transistor radios to Dodger Stadium to listen to Vinny call the game they were watching. One night, Scully noted that it was the birthday of umpire Frank Secory. "So I said over the radio, I'll count to three and everybody yell, 'Happy Birthday, Frank,' " Scully related to Curt Smith in Smith's book, "Voices of Summer." Sure enough, Scully counted and Dodger Stadium rocked with a thunderous "Happy Birthday, Frank," much to the umpire's surprise.
2 One more anecdote for Scully, the greatest announcer of them all. In a Washington Post article last year, baseball commissioner Bud Selig revealed that every time he calls the Dodgers, he asks to be put on hold. "And when they ask why, I say, 'Because I want to hear Scully for a few minutes.' " Added Selig, "I don't know how to say it, really ... but hearing Vin's voice just makes me feel better."
3 The great Curt Gowdy, who died this past February, worked virtually every sport and was the longtime host of "American Sportsman," but he cut his teeth as the voice of the Red Sox for 15 years, 1951-65. His most memorable day, Gowdy once said, happened Aug. 1, 1962, when he called a no-hitter by Boston pitcher Bill Monbouquette against the White Sox in a day game at Comiskey Park, then hustled over to Soldier Field to broadcast the Green Bay Packers against the College All-Stars. "A no-hitter by day, the mighty Pack at night," he later marveled.
4 No one is more endeared for his mistakes than longtime Padres announcer Jerry Coleman, a Frick Award winner. His malaprops even have a name — Colemanisms. He once said that curly-haired Padres pitcher Randy Jones had a "Karl Marx" haircut. Others: "Winfield's on first base, and he's always a threat to grow." And, "Jesus Alou is in the on-deck circus." And, "Rich Folkers is throwing up in the bullpen." And, perhaps most famously, "There's a fly ball, deep to right field! Winfield is going back, back, back, he hits his head against the wall! It's rolling away!"
5 Ralph Kiner, a Mets announcer since their inaugural 1962 season, is also known for his verbal bungles, referred to as, well, Kinerisms. But Kiner also had a quick wit, as evidenced by this exchange with partner Tim McCarver, related in Smith's "The Storytellers." Kiner began by saying that he wanted to turn the microphone over "to my good friend, Tim McArthur." McCarver responded, "Ralph, you're probably thinking of General MacArthur." "Close enough," said Kiner. After the game, a Mets loss, McCarver tried to tie things together: "Ralph, earlier in the broadcast we talked about General MacArthur, and one of his favorite lines was, 'Chance favors a prepared man.' Obviously, the Mets weren't prepared tonight." Kiner shot back, "MacArthur also said, 'I shall return,' and we'll be back right after this."
6 Few announcers have been as quick-witted as former Giants and Yankees broadcaster Hank Greenwald, who once began his taped opening before a Giants-Pirates game by saying, "Good evening, everybody. I'm Hank Greenwald along with Duane Kuiper. We're here at Three Rivers Stadium ... " His producer told him to shorten it, which Greenwald did, but not to the satisfaction of the producer, who told him to try again. "Good evening, everybody," Greenwald said. "I'm Hank Greenwald, along with Duane Kuiper. We're here at Two Rivers Stadium."
7 Legendary Tigers announcer Ernie Harwell remains the only broadcaster ever traded to the major leagues for a player. In 1948, Harwell was calling games for the Atlanta Crackers of the Class AA Southern Association when Dodgers announcer Red Barber became ill. Dodgers owner Branch Rickey called Crackers owner Earl Mann and asked if he could use Harwell. Mann said fine, but only if you send us your minor-league catcher in Montreal, Cliff Dapper. The deal was made, and Harwell began his 55-year major-league career, at Ebbets Field on Aug. 4, 1948, calling the Dodgers against the Cubs. (At Harwell's retirement tribute at Comerica Park in 2002, the Tigers flew in Dapper, then 82, who met Harwell for the first time.)
8 Another memorable announcer swap occurred in May of 1960, when Cubs manager Charlie Grimm was losing favor with team owner Phil Wrigley. Wrigley engineered a trade that would send Jack Brickhouse's broadcasting partner, Hall of Famer Lou Boudreau, to the dugout as manager, with Grimm replacing Boudreau in the WGN broadcast booth. Boudreau was not the last manager to come straight out of the announcing booth — Jerry Coleman skippered the Padres in 1980, Larry Dierker piloted the Astros from 1997-2001 and Bob Brenly led the Diamondbacks to the World Series title in 2001. White Sox announcer Ken Harrelson made the radical move from team announcer to general manager in 1986, lasting, like Coleman, just one season.
9 How times have changed. In the late 1940s and '50s, Washington Senators broadcaster Bob Wolff formed "The Singing Senators," a choral group of leading Senators players such as Roy Sievers and Jim Lemon that performed around town and even went on the "Today" show. Said the 85-year-old Wolff now, "Can you imagine asking Barry Bonds, do you want to sing 'Down By The Old Mill Stream' with me? He'd probably hit me over the head with a bat. His agent would want $20,000, and his lawyers would come in with contracts." Back then, the players actually auditioned for the privilege of being a Singing Senator.
10 Perhaps no announcer in history had a more unorthodox style than Waite Hoyt, a Hall of Fame pitcher who might nevertheless be best remembered as Babe Ruth's running mate. Hoyt, who broadcasted the Cincinnati Reds from 1942-65, called games in the past tense. Everyone else in the profession, before and after, uses the present tense. Dave Niehaus, who listened to Hoyt as a youngster in Indiana on WLW, recently provided this example of Hoyt's style: "And there was a fly ball to left field, and the left fielder caught the ball. There was a ground ball to the shortstop, who fielded it, threw to first base, and the batter was out." Hoyt always explained he did it that way for accuracy, because he was describing what he had seen, not what was happening that moment.
Larry Stone