Goodbye HK

This blog wasn't supposed to include anything emotional or sentimental, but I felt like I had to comment on the sudden passing of broadcasting legend Harry Kalas. 

Kalas, the Phillies play-by-play man since 1971 collapsed Monday, at the age of 73, in the broadcast booth in D.C. today before the Phillies took on the Nationals, thus stunning the city of Philadelphia - which became home to him and homes became friends of his.

This isn't the first time we all lost a great Philly broadcaster. The late Gene Hart started out his career with the expansion Philadelphia Flyers in 1966 and was the voice of the team for 29 years. His famous Stanley Cup winning call stills ring in Philadelphia sports fans' ears.

"Ladies and gentlemen. The Flyers... are GOING to WIN.... the Stanley Cup!! The Flyers win the Stanley Cup!!! The Flyers win the Stanley Cup!!! The Flyers have WON...the Stanley Cup!!!" You can listen here.

Over the past 38 years, Harry Kalas had his fair share of great calls. This tribute includes many of them, specifically Mike Schmidt's 500th home run versus the Pittsburgh Pirates.

"SWING and a long drive... there it is!!! Number 500!!! The career 500th home run for Michael...Jack....Schmidt!!!"

That call, which inexplicably included Schmidt's middle name and made it all the more special, coupled with Schmidt's memorable celebration down the first base line are engrained in fans' minds and will live on forever.

Kalas had a uniquely deep voice that was unmistakeable when you tuned into a baseball game, an NFL Films production, or a Campbell's Chunky Soup commercial.

Bill Lyon's column in the Philadelphia Inquirer will surely sum things up much better than I could ever dream.... or check out Bob Ford's emotional story, too.

People my age have long listened to stories from the older generation waxing poetic about Howard Cosell or nights spent with the AM radio at their bedside tuned into a nightly sportscast. I've never felt like I had a similar story to tell until now.

I remember spending many mid-summer days down at the Jersey Shore as a kid, and there were days I'd refuse to go to the beach with the rest of the family because the Phillies were on TV. I can still remember every detail about those days... the house to myself, a cold coke or iced tea in hand, breezy salt air infiltrating the screened-in sliding doors, a few packs of opened baseball cards in a mess on the floor, and most importantly... the VOICE... the voice of a great storyteller was loud and clear.