Greatest announcers

Discovery of the ecstasy and agony of sports comes through our ears. The best television announcers give life to two-dimensional pulsating pixels. The worst announcers ruin the game.

Esteemed sportswriter David Halberstam published his list of 50 greatest sports announcers using these criteria: contributions, trendsetting and pioneering; measure, impact and length of their visibility; legacy and historical relevance; distinction in their on-air role; national reach.

His Top 10: 1. Howard Cossell; 2. John Madden; 3. Brent Musburger; 4. Al Michaels; 5. Dick Enberg ; 6. Curt Gowdy; 7. Keith Jackson; 8. Bob Costas; 9. Jim McKay; and 10. Pat Summerall.

Of course, it is all purely subjective and argumentative. My criteria is much simpler: do I like him?

Personally I would throw Cossell and Gowdy off the list. I could not stand to hear their voices. Musburger would move down more than a few notches. Madden was great, is still good but he’s starting to wear thin on me. Almost like Dick Vitale (12) who wore me out more than 10 years ago.

Halberstam likes son Joe Buck (13) more than father Jack Buck (unlisted). I would reverse that. Jack made the 1988 Kurt Gibson home run call, “I can’t believe what I just saw!” which goes side-by-side with Gibson’s fist pump circling the bases.

My favorite announcer of all time is Vin Scully (16), broadcaster for the Los Angeles Dodgers who is 81 and entering his 59th season behind the mike. With a smooth, melodic voice, he weaves stories and uses language like a piano, making every game interesting and easy listening, doing it at least 162 times a season. Unlike players, Scully never has a bad game. He’s the only announcer who can do a whole ballgame all by himself better than any other two guys.

Second on my list, nowhere to be found in Halberstam’s, is Chick Hearn, former voice of the Los Angeles Lakers, inventor of now familiar phrases air ball, bunny hop, camping in the lane, caught with his hand in the cookie jar, dribble drive, finger roll, frozen rope, sky hook, slam dunk, etc.

Hearn once said, “He could be defender of the year—if everyone else dies.”

And “If there are really 18,000 here tonight, a lot of them are dressed like seats.”

Somewhere on my short list, and not mentioned by Halberstam, would be Dizzy Dean, a character so unique and deeply embedded in my formative years that he doesn’t need to be on anybody’s list; he’s his own list. Listening to him with my grandfather as a pup learning the game each Saturday afternoon for the CBS Game of the Week along with “my lil’ pardner” Pee Wee Reese, he made baseball enjoyable by playing with language and leaving us with many memorable musings.

“He slud into third.”

“It ain’t braggin’ if you can back it up.”

“Well, what’s wrong with ain’t?”

“The doctors x-rayed my head and found nothing.”

“I ain’t who I used to be, but who the hell is?”

Ain’t that the truth? That’s what the greatest announcers do—capture the truth and essence of sports for us to enjoy.

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