I don’t know how the game goes on without his input and, more importantly, the way he provided his input. There was no emotion left on the table with Harry Kalas ”” you heard, you felt, you understood everything that was happening on the field. If there was ever someone who could relay to the fans what it is like to be a major league baseball player, it was “H.K.”
Harry framed my connection to the Philadelphia Phillies, from my childhood excitement when the Phillies won the 1980 World Series to my game-winning, walk-off home run to beat the Expos in the first year at Citizens Bank Park. He was my full circle, and I suppose his circle became complete, in a way, when the Phillies won the 2008 World Series.
My friend, the baseball expert Jayson Stark, said it well: when Harry didn’t get that chance to put his signature on a play, it was “as if it never happened.” He was the most important bridge to the player experience for a fan of this game. A picture may be worth a thousand words, but a word from Harry Kalas painted a thousand pictures.
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Here in St. Louis, Jack Buck meant the same thing to the Cardinals. It wasn’t baseball unless he said it was and his death a few years ago was mourned like few around here have ever been. Institutions like Harry Kalas are rapidly dying out and baseball’s going to be much worse because of it.
Yeah, Buck … and Mel Allen, Harry Carey, now Kalas and several other greats.
At least out here in Kansas we still have our Denny Matthews (now 66) who has broadcast the Royals for 40 years. If you can catch him on XM, by all means do — he has a fantastic (but dry) sense of humor and a deep love of the game.