Chapter 12: Offensive and Defensive Announcers (Mostly Offensive)

CHAPTER 12 -- OFFENSIVE AND DEFENSIVE ANNOUNCERS

(Mostly Offensive)


Phil Schaefer and Craig Prosser, two friends who date back to college days when we studied broadcasting at Ohio State University (or if you prefer it the way Buckeye footballers introduce themselves on national television, THE Ohio State University) are responsible for this two platoon sports broadcasters’ phrase. It was Craig, a player on OSU’s first hockey team, who told me about the unusual play-by-play method he ran across way out in Kansas somewhere.

Craig was in the Army there. I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt, as I’m pretty sure he wasn’t stationed at Fort Leavenworth. Probably Fort Riley. He had hustled a radio job on the side and pretty soon he’s working for some small radio station in the Sunflower state. Small town radio includes a lot of local play-by-play sports. It draws an audience and it usually makes money for the station. The two local radio callers we’re talking about here—one fellow’s name is Wayne Rowdiebush and the other guy we can’t remember, because his name wasn’t as colorful—have a style that is pretty hard to duplicate. Here’s how Craig told me the story:

ANNOUNCER A: “Jones, top of the key, over to Smith. Smith on the dribble down the lane, stops, jumps, shoots, rings around, no good, off to the left.”

ANNOUNCER B (INTERRUPTING): “Rebound goes to Brown. He heads up court. Crosses the stripe, hands off to Clark. Clark is gonna slow down and set things up.”

And so on for the next 40 minutes. Every change in possession necessitated a change in announcers. Maybe there could have been some deep seated broadcasting strategy going on here that we don’t know about. This was a good 15 years before ESPN visited us, so these two Jayhawks might have been way ahead of their time and underappreciated. After all, some listeners could get tired of the same voice for the entire game. Never mind that I thought what they were doing was falling down funny and extremely rustic. These two guys figured they had discovered something workable. The astonished Prosser, who went on to a solid career as a TV newscaster, was amused by what he heard going out over the air and asked his co-workers how they came up with their style. “Oh, it’s something we just happened onto one night when we were doing a game together,” was Rowdiebush’s answer. “It sounded alright; it gave me a chance to catch my breath, so we just stayed with it.” He’s right; you don’t break up a winning team or winning style. As Crash Davis said in BULL DURHAM, “You gotta respect the streak.” Though, I believe, a better explanation might have been the title of that political book that came out a few ago. It seems the Kansas Board of Education was fighting the teaching of evolution as science in their schools. Liberal educators fought back and produced a book called WHAT’S WRONG WITH KANSAS?

And, it might not be over for the Substitution Rule in Sportcasting. Who knows what those innovators at ESPN might have in store for us. With three in booth, two on the sidelines and perhaps others roaming the stadium at games now, the boys in Storrs, CT might want to explore a different “less is more” approach sometime in the future.

It was Phil who named the Kansans unusual play-by-play style for me. And Phil ought to know something about this field. He broadcast University of Georgia and Atlanta Hawk games for many years and was a multi-time winner as Georgia’s Sportscaster of the Year. When I told him about what our friend Craig had stumbled onto out in Kansas, Phil deciphered the style immediately and even had his own name for it: “Offensive and defensive announcers.”

Now, it’s time for the awards that go to the Best Offensive and Defensive Announcers (Mostly Offensive):

ANNOUNCER AS POLITICAL ANALYST: Verne Lundquist. Verne is a surprise winner in this category, as he one of the most versatile sports announcers on the air. He’s equally at home behind the mike on college football, college basketball, golf or even figureice skating. The guy’s been doing it for many years. He sounds good, he is good. That’s why I couldn’t understand why he ventured way out on a limb one night in early November ‘08, a limb which comes dangerously close to being a racist limb. CBS was telecasting Alabama vs. Georgia and it was all Crimson Tide in the first half. The Tide is pummeling the Bulldogs and Junior Coffey, their powerhouse runner, is doing most of the damage. Coach Nick Saban uses Coffey on consecutive running plays and Alabama is threatening from deep in Georgia territory. Here’s where things start to get sticky for our boy Verne Lundquist:

LUNDQUIST: “It’s Coffey again. Another good gain for the Tide. Coffey left. Coffey left. That’s all Georgia is getting tonite. (LONG PAUSE) Coffey left? Wasn’t that the result of the Presidential election last week?” Verne Lundquist , you should meet Chris MatthewsMathews; in fact, if you were on his HARDBALL show after you said what you said about our new President, MatthewsMathews would likely challenge you to a duel, sir. In much the same manner that Gov. Zell Miller of Georgia actually challenged MatthewsMathews to a duel at the 2004 Republican Nominating Convention. What precipitated the near duel was that the liberal Mathews didn’t take kindly to Miller—a Democrat—turning on fellow Dem., Sen. John Kerry, the ’04 Democratic Presidential nominee. After Miller went to town on Kerry in his convention address, MatthewsMathews lit into the Gov. in a post-speech interview, as only the Hardball host can do. Weary after 12-15 MatthewsMathews interruptions and district attorney-type accusations, Gov. Miller lost it and angrily said that if we were living in another time, he’d be within his rights to challenge the excitable MatthewsMathews to a duel. Gah ahead.

ANNOUNCER AS LITERARY CRITIC: It’s Mr. Lundquist again. Verne likes to begin his SEC game broadcasts with weighty scene setters. This one was way overwrought. It was a good match up, could’ve been Tennessee-Auburn or Georgia-LSU. Can’t remember who was playing. But Verne got into it by declaiming correctly that in the South it’s the land of great college football and great literature. “..Faulkner, Tennessee Williams. And today on the gridiron it’s …” And, here’s where Lundquist ventured in way too deep. .”.Auburn vs. Florida, he intoned, ..”and attention must be paid, attention must be paid.” Well, he was right. It was a big game and we should pay attention to it. The only problem here is “Attention must be paid” didn’t come from the pen of Faulkner or Williams. It didn’t come from a story about the South either. It’s a momentous line spoken by Willie Lowman’s wife in Arthur Miller’s DEATH OF A SALESMAN. Verne, I think you’ve been drinking too much coffee.

ANNOUNCER AS BEST FRIEND: This designation could go to several play-by-play announcers. Especially the kind that gets overly friendly with the players off the field. Unfortunately, this play-by-play guy takes this new found friendship with him on the broadcasts. As a result, here’s what you got on a recent University of Miami-Maryland basketball game:

ANNOUNCER: “Jack, over to Lance. Lance gives off to Jimmy. Jimmy, on a drive, he’s cutoff. He dumps it off to Brian, in close. Brian puts it up..no good. He gets his own rebound. Back out to Jack. Jack measures a three. It’s good!” Now, what happened there? Did we just hear the announcer telling a story about four of his buddies? Was there a card game going on? No, the Hurricanes’ fine guard, Jack McClinton, hit a three pointer. The very friendly sports announcer who was doing this play-by-play was WQAM’s number two guy on the Miami basketball games, Josh Derrow. Later that day, I was talking to a friend about this game. He asked me how the Hurricanes did against Maryland. “They won, I said, Jack had a good game, and so did Lance.”

ANNOUNCER AS THE OLD STORYTELLER: Joe Angel should know better. A major league broadcast veteran, he’s been the play-by-play voice for a number of teams.
He was the original Florida Marlin “voice” and called the games during their first championship season in ’97. Joe and his partner Dave O’Brien, a terrific talent, would get into these long stories on the air about their road trips, family life and other diversions. They were good stories most of the time and often funny. But when Angel was by himself and delved deep into some vignette he thought was worthy, he wasn’t funny, he wasn’t cute, and he could get into trouble. This is one of those troubling moments. The Marlins are playing the Cubs, it’s an afternoon game at Wrigley Field and Joe, who comes from Chicago, is in full flight about his days in the Windy City:

ANGEL: ‘...and then we went down to a place near the Loop and found a great spot for a Perogi. Here’s the pitch, line drive base hit to right field. Then, later on we had tickets for a Bears game. and Butkus was a monster that night. Stretch, check of the runner, here’s the pitch. There’s a ground ball up the middle, it’s into center for a hit.
Grace rounds second and pulls into third. So, it’s Sammy Sosa on first and Mark Grace on third, one out in the fifth.’ So now we have a good Cub rally going on, but Joe Angel is also determined to get us through the story about his Chicago days. He dutifully announces the next few batters, tosses in some more city of Chicago color and things proceed. The Cubs produce a run and are still threatening. Now, there’s a pause in the action as the Marlins discuss defense, and Joe Angel’s tone becomes decidedly different. He is sounding almost mournful, as he tell us, ‘Oh, fans. I am truly sorry. The batter up there now is not Jeff Blauser. It’s Gary Gaetti.. It’s not Sosa on 3rd, it’s Lance Johnson. And it’s Santiago on first, not Hill. We mistakenly had someone batting out of turn and had the wrong Cubs on base.’ Angel must have gotten so engrossed in his story that he failed to concentrate on some of the action down on the field. Then, he apparently got things wrong in his scorebook too. Naturally, the mistakes compounded as Angel continued blithely along, not realizing what had really happened. In football, if you’re a play-by-play man and you’ve got the wrong guy carrying the ball, you can always say—as the old sportscasting joke goes--..’and Smith laterals to Jones.’ A long, long time ago, the famous horse racing and boxing announcer Clem McCarthy took a lot of heat for calling the wrong name of the Preakness Stakes winner. Some other famous announcer-- the story was generally credited to Bill Stern--tried to console McCarthy and advised him to change the horse’s name on the air if he ever got into a Preakness situation again. McCarthy told him that “You can’t lateral horses.”

ANNOUNCER AS SPORTS AGENT AND PRESS AGENT: The announcer who takes home both trophies was not a play-by-play guy. He was a sideline analyst and he is no longer living. Ralph Wiley is his name. He used to be a writer for Sports Illustrated and often appeared on those talks shows jawing about sports issues. On this night, it’s the Orange Bowl game and it’s a big one, Notre Dame vs. Colorado, back when the Fighting Irish knew what to do with a football. Both teams have a shot at the national title. Wiley is working for NBC, but apparently he wasn’t familiar with the phrase “full disclosure.” You see, Ralph Wiley also moonlighted as a sports agent. And one of his clients was none other than the Fighting Irish’s big star, Raghib Ismail. Dick Enberg was calling the game for the network. Enberg has had a wonderful career and he was always on his game. Before the kickoff, he sends it down to Wiley who was reporting from the Notre Dame sidelines.

WILEY (ASSUMING A CONFIDENT MANNER BORDERING ON COCKINESS.. BEGINS TO TALK ABOUT ISMAIL): ‘Raghib Ismail is the one player Colorado should be worried about tonight. (VOICE RISING) But, they can forget about it, because they can’t catch what they can’t see.” He said the “can’t catch what they can’t see” part with a great deal of emphasis.

ANNOUNCER IN A RELIGIOUS SERVICE: The winner is one of all time greats, Vin Scully of the Dodgers. I didn’t know Vin Scully was Jewish. Actually he’s not. But he did appear in a synagogue on the holiest day of the year for Jews, Yom Kippur. The Yahrzeit ceremony, occurring on Yom Kippur, is a very important, respectful service in the Jewish religion. It’s when loved ones pay tribute to those whom have departed. And, on this particular day—the Day of Atonement for Jews—they were holding Yahrzeit at Beth Jacob Synagogue in Columbus, Ohio. Men had their prayer shawls on and the shawl—Tsallis—was the important element here. The prayers—davening—were just beginning and the men and women were into the bobbing and bowing which some people are comfortable doing during Hebrew prayers. And then it happened…out of nowhere came the unmistakable voice—not of the Rabbi, not of God, though some people might put him up there with our Lord—of Vin Scully:

SCULLY: “…and Drysdale goes into the windup.” Loud and clear resounding thru the temple sanctuary, it was Vin Scully and his sharp, smooth, friendly, baritone voice giving us play-by-play from a Dodger-Yankee World Series. A congregant--not any congregant, mind you, but a congregant whose pastime was that of a bookie,--yes, it was he who had smuggled a transistor radio into the temple on this most holy of days and had hidden it under his prayer shawl. The bookie, we’ll call him ‘Max, was well known in Columbus gambling circles. You can imagine that he had a lot riding on this game. ‘Max was immediately besieged by an outpouring of wrath, threats and one guy wanted to fight him right then and there. “It’s an outrage,” one older congregant shouted, as the Yahrzeit service temporarily stopped. But as they say on the athletic field, “Cooler heads prevailed.” ‘Max was persuaded to put away his transistor radio and the ceremony resumed. Drysdale went on to shut out the Yankees that day and ‘Max went about his business. They like to tell a story about ‘Max in the Jewish community. It was about the time when ‘Max got married and they put the notice in the local newspaper. Listed next to ‘Max’s name where they print the occupation, ‘he was identified as a “Sports Promoter.”

ANNOUNCER INVOLVED IN IDENTITY THEFT: The winner is the colorful and capable LA Lakers announcer for many years, Chick Hearn. Hearn and the old Celtic announcer, Johnny Most, were the pioneers of NBA announcers. On this occasion, Hearn is doing the telecast of an important game between a team of USA college stars and the USSR squad, which included players from the team which upset the Americans and won the Olympic gold medal. Chick’s partner is the Laker immortal Jerry West and the game is being played at the old Madison Square Garden in New York. They break for a commercial, then come back to the telecast and Hearn takes over:

HEARN: “This is Chick Hearn along with Elgin Baylor from Madison Sq—“

WEST (INTERRUPTING): “I’m Jerry West, Chick.”

ANNOUNCERS INVOLVED IN IDENTITY THEFT (RUNNER-UP): Our selection committee had a tough time deciding between Hearn and this pair of confused announcers. Ultimately, we gave the award to the aforementioned Hearn, as his mis-identification was more egregious. At least our two runners-up in this example were a good distance from the playing field. Chick Hearn, unfortunately, was nose-to-nose with Jerry West. It’s the mid 60s and the Yankees are battling the Indians at the old Municipal Stadium located right on Lake Erie in Cleveland. All the announcers from both teams are involved here: the Yankees’ combination of Phil Rizzuto and Jerry Coleman and the Indians fine team of Jimmy Dudley and Bob Neal. Dudley and Neal were real pro’s and are nothing but innocent bystanders here. Cleveland starts Sam McDowell, the fireballer who usually has trouble locating home plate. But today he’s really on. The Yanks can’t touch him. He’s got a no hitter into the middle innings and Rizzuto and Coleman are duly impressed:

RIZZUTO: ‘Boy, Jerry, McDowell is sharp today. He’s picking up the corners. He’s had only one full count. I’ve never seen him with so much control.’

COLEMAN (A FEW MINUTES LATER): ‘McDowell has had the Yankee hitters in the palm of his hand. He’s struck out six and walked nobody. There have been few hard hit balls.’

The game goes on in the same vein and the Yankee announcers continued to be amazed by what Sam McDowell is doing to their line-up. After another 1-2-3 inning, they start to get suspicious in the Yankee booth. There must be some explanation for McDowell’s mastery. Why does this famously wild pitcher suddenly have pinpoint control? While the Yankee announcing team is trying to unravel the mystery of the McDowell performance, they send a message by courier over to the Indians broadcast booth with a question for Dudley and Neal. ‘Who’s that out there pitching for the Indians today?’ they ask. The note is returned and under the Yankee broadcasters’ question is written two words, Jack Kralick. *

ANNOUNCER WHO KEEPS THEM GUESSING AWARD: The longtime Georgia Bulldog voice, Larry Munson, wins this one going away. Munson was a famous play-by-play voice in the South, broadcasting Vanderbilt and Georgia games and minor league baseball for many years. He had an unusual monotone style that people liked. He also had an odd way of identifying tacklers and ball carriers during football games. Not sure if what I heard was a style thing with Munson or his accommodation to advancing years. But you could be listening to a Georgia game and Munson wouldn’t tell you who was responsible for anything down on the field. He must have disdained spotters and he certainly was a minimalist. This is what we got when Georgia played Alabama-Birmingham during the ’06 season:

MUNSON: “..UAB lines up from the 20. They’re in a spread. Somebody puts a rush on. They throw it in the end zone. We knock it down.” Okay, I figured out it was an incomplete pass by UAB. But who threw it? Who rushed the passer? Who batted the pass down? If you got a season full of Bulldog non-identifications,—not to mention the opponent’s non-id’s--it could get pretty frustrating. Geez, I hope Munson wasn’t riffing Abbott and Costello’s WHO’S ON FIRST., Was he? What if he tried that style in basketball? I’ve got a suggestion for the Bulldog fans that might help here. The Athens, GA Touchdown Club has a Player of the Year award in college football, and I believe I have a winner for them. The award goes to a player who is tireless and is on practically every Georgia play. A real 60 minute man. The player of the year award should go to “Somebody.”

ANNOUNCER WITH THE BEST PREDICTION AWARD: Unfortunately, the award in this category goes to the author. Me. Yes, I did it. I was responsible for this embarrassment. An assist goes to the fast-on-his-feet Duke Sims, the old Cleveland Indian catcher. I set it up for Duke and he knocked it out of the park. It happened at one of those Hot Stove League functions that major league teams like to hold during the off season. I’m interviewing Indian players at a restaurant in Akron, OH. It’s January of 1967, a few weeks before spring training starts.

GRIMM: “So, Duke, where do you think the Indians will finish in 1966?”

SIMS: “Sixth place.”

ANNOUNCER LOOKING FOR BIG TROUBLE AWARD: This award goes to a Miami, FL sportscaster named Jeff DeForrest who got himself into the deep end of the pool, when he interviewed Joe Frazier, the former heavyweight champion. DeForrest is a local guy who usually has an affable manner on the air. He seems to know a lot about boxing and has freelanced doing bouts on TV. Maybe it was this brush with boxing that led to the trouble with Smokin’ Joe. DeForrest must have devised some kind of interview strategy where he was intent on showing Joe his boxing bonafides early in the bout-er interview. Frazier was not only a great fighter but a proud man who prided himself as someone who never took a step backward in the ring. Let’s listen to how this interview went:

DEFFOREST: “Our guest in the WIOD studios tonight is Smokin’ Joe, the great Joe Frazier, former heavyweight champion of the world. Joe, throughout your career you were involved in many classic bouts. You fought Muhammad Ali three times, you beat Jimmy Ellis to win the title, you knocked out Bob Foster in two rounds, you defended your title seven times, and you’re a former Olympic champion. But you didn’t do so well against George Foreman. He knocked you out twice. The first time you fought him he took your title, he knocked you down seven times and they stopped the fight in the second round. In the second Foreman match you got knocked out in the fifth round. What happened when you got into the ring with Foreman?”

FRAZIER (LONG PAUSE) “Are you sayin’ I was afraid of George Foreman?”

BEST MIMICRY BY AN ANNOUNCER: Jon Miller, the smooth, yet funny host of Sunday Night Baseball on ESPN, is our hands down winner here. Miller and his longtime partner, the Hall of Famer Joe Morgan, are about the best announcing pair going for my money. Miller is very experienced at baseball play-by-play. He does the San Francisco Giants’ games and used to be the voice for the As, Rangers, Orioles and Red Sox. Morgan knows more than any other ex-jock I’ve heard working in broadcasting. He delivers new inside baseball stuff every week and puts it out there in clear, easy-to-comprehend English. I must admit to being partial to Joe Morgan. I interviewed him shortly after he came over to the Reds in the early 70s; he’s a classy, well-spoken gentleman who didn’t try to “major league” you. Joe went back to college during his playing days with the Reds and earned his degree. His explanations about the game are concise, which may be why an ex-teammate explained Morgan’s baseball knowledge this way: “Joe knows what all nine guys on the field are supposed to do on every play.” Morgan is also a good foil for Miller and his imitations; it’s funny to hear Joe start giggling in the background as his partner begins his humorous apings of other announcers:

MILLER: (TAKING ON A VIN SCULLY MIEN) “…today’s game is being brought to you by Farmer John’s, the best hot dog in baseball. Ball twooo.” Miller used to be so good at mimicking Scully, that he sometimes did it in Japanese. No kidding. He once did a ball and strike sequence using some undecipherable Japanese phrasing in fake Scully-like modulations. He also put the Scully voice into a movie sequence, having Vin be one of the stars of SONS OF KATIE ELDER, not the John Wayne part, but one of the brothers. Miller’s capacity for baseball mimicry has limitless range. Al Michaels, who may be unsurpassed when it comes to sports announcers today, used to be likened to Scully when it was earlier in Al’s career. That may have been where I first heard Miller on the air.

It was the strike season of 1981 and Miller was doing a gig for ESPN Radio, as they were filling the time with broadcasts of classic baseball games and fantasy games. This time Miller was calling a fantasy game made up of all time stars. So he has Willie Mays batting against Tom Seaver with Miller’s Scully and Michaels sharing remarkably similar play-by-play for an inning. Miller wouldn’t stop there. He’s so playful he used to do dead-on impressions of ballpark PA announcers. Sometimes during Sunday night games, Morgan would be at the mike and you’d hear his partner announcing the next batter in the background, which prompted some more giggling from Joe. Miller’s favorite PA guy foil was the old Minnesota Twins field announcer, Bob Jackson. He picked on Jackson probably because the guy had sort of a harsh, barking, almost-threatening style. The Twins’ lineups and announcements came out in short, choppy sentence bites that sounded like admonitions to the crowd. Sad to say, the Twins also had a bomb threat one day, and Miller had his take on the Jackson-bomb announcement and his non-smoking warning


MILLER (AS JACKSON): “No smoking during the games..and we mean it! Also, there’s a bomb here..and it’s gonna go off!..so everybody get out!”

Miller doesn’t do nearly as many imitations as he used to. He’s mostly all business now. But he knows how to get the best stuff out of Morgan, whose baseball knowledge seems to be limitless. Everyone asks Joe Morgan about his days with The Big Red Machine and he doesn’t disappoint. On one broadcast Miller wanted to know what it was like playing with a competitor like Pete Rose:

MORGAN: “I’ll tell you about one time when we were playing the Houston Astros. Their pitcher was Don Wilson, and he could really bring it. If he was on, you didn’t have much of a chance. Pete is leading off. Wilson strikes him out on three pitches. Pete’s coming back to the dugout, and I’m making my way to the on-deck circle. I see what happened to Pete, so I figure I better ask him about Wilson. So, what he’s got tonight?”

ROSE (WALKING BY): “You’ll find out soon enough.”

ANNOUNCER WHO MADE THE MOST MISTAKES IN THE SHORTEST PERIOD OF TIME: When a sports announcer mispronounces a foreign born athlete’s name these days, you’d have to cut them some slack. After all, European countries now produce outstanding basketball players by the bunches; same for Asian and Caribbean nations in baseball. To say nothing of the Olympics where athletes from over 100 countries compete. But, back when there were 16 teams in major league baseball, a fledgling NFL, and only six NHL teams, I don’t think we can excuse what happened with one radio announcer more than 50 years ago. I wish I could identify the fellow for you, as I wasn’t there to hear his error- plagued reporting. Let’s just call him Anonymous, or ‘Amos for short. It’s a story that has made the ‘rounds before in broadcasting, but I was hearing it for the first time from a famous journalist, Cy Burick of the Dayton Daily News, a renown writer who covered all the big events for decades. Burick was addressing a meeting of the Ohio Sportscasters Association and he got to speaking about today’s announcers and their styles. It was a friendly, respectful address by Mr. Burick, someone whom everyone in the room had either read or heard of for years. Burick closed his remarks by telling about the time this poor sportscaster had a classic goof up, rendering a famous ballplayer’s name unintelligible:

AMOS THE ANNOUNCER: ‘Today, baseball lost one of its all time greats when Hazen Kiki Cuyler passed away.’ Kiki Cuyler—and many will not know or remember his name—was a Hall of Fame ballplayer. He’s not from a foreign country, he was born in the good ‘ol USA in Ann Arbor, MI. He did not play in that mysterious dead ball era either. Cuyler played for the Cubs and Pirates during the 20s and 30s, hit .300 ten times and had a lifetime batting average of .321. The one thing people may remember about Cuyler was his name-er names. Hazen Kiki Cuyler is a name that could trip you up, especially if you were not familiar with his exploits. Here is the proper way to say the name of this famous outfielder:

Hazen is pronounced Hay-zin; Kiki is said as Ky-Ky; and you pronounce his surname as
Ky-ler. ‘Amos the announcer did not even come close. His Hazen Kiki Cuyler came out as: “Hassin Key-Key Cooler,” thereby going 3-3 in the mispronunciation game and scoring a hard-to-achieve hat trick.

ANNOUNCER WHO HITS THE MOST “HOMERS:” Ken “The Hawk” Harrelson, I’m afraid, wins this one in a close vote that had a lot of worthwhile contenders. As long as there has been baseball on the radio, Midwest fans seem to prefer the overboard homer for their play-by-play choices. “The Hawk” is no exception. He played nine seasons in the majors for four teams. One year he led the American League in RBI’s. He hit 123 homers during his major league career but has far surpassed that total in his many years as a Chicago White Sox play-by-play man. Harrelson doesn’t just openly root for the White Sox; he seems to resent any positive play made by the opposition. When a Sox opponent delivers a telling hit that drives in a run hurting his team, Harrelson, noting that the ball may not have been hit with atomic force, says—not in a nice way—“Will you look at this.” That’s one of his pet phrases when unexpected happenings go against the Sox. Opposition pop fly hits over the infield are sneeringly referred to as “little duck snorts.” ‘Kountry Ken is also big with the nicknames like other announcers and constantly eschews the man’s name in favor of Harrelson’s pet name for him.them. Slugger Jim Thome is “JT” at all times, never Thome . Magglio Ordonez, before he was traded to the Tigers, was “Maggs.” Paul Konerko is “Pauly” to Harrelson. Often times Harrelson will openly pull for the Sox player with an encouraging, “C’mon 21” – presumably referring to the player’s uniform number, not a call for blackjack. Marty Brenneman, the long-time Cincinnati Reds announcer, gets honorable mention in this category. Brenneman and his son Thom, a Fox play-by-play man, are both professional sounding, descriptive and highly competent. But Marty B. wins in this category for his insufferable call that comes with every last out of a Reds victory: “..and this one belongs to the Reds.” It’s cocky and somewhat disrespectful to the opponent. Sometimes the elder Brenneman will rush his “final” call before the signal is made by the umpire or the ball is secured by a fielder. One time this practiced call—and the Reds--got their come-uppance. It was a hard fought game with Cincinnati hosting the very strong Mets team of ’86 which went on to win the World Series. They battled down to the last out with the Reds holding on by a run. When the final batter lofted a fly out to the usually reliable Dave Parker in right field, Brenneman apparently couldn’t contain himself: “…and this one belongs to the Reds.” he giddily announced right before the ball got to Parker. Only big Dave dropped it and Brenneman was forced to make a mid-call correction, fairly screaming out, “..he dropped the ball.” Eight innings later this game belonged to the Mets.