RIP Ernie Harwell

Interesting tidbit from the Freep obit I linked above:

 

Ernie is the reason I'm a sports journalist, the reason I'm still a sports journalist and my professional ideal.

Here's a few things I wrote when he retired from public life.

 

Another cool Harwell factoid from the Free Press obit: He once interviewed Connie Mack on the radio. Mack was born in 1862, so there's a direct baseball link from the Civil War to the 21st century.

 

When I was a kid and I got my first transistor radio, I would tune the dial at night to see what faraway stations I might get by ionospheric skip so I could listen to distant baseball games. Ernie Harwell was a treat when atmospheric conditions let me listen in.

RIP. Thank you for hours of enjoyment...

 

Once when I was a teen living on the East Coast, I decided to roll through all the AM stations to see if I could pick up any other ballgames.

I ended up picking up the Tigers and a West Coast team (I want to say the A's), and Ernie's voice came through a whole bunch of static. I was thrilled to be able to listen to a game from a station halfway across the country.

RIP, to one of the greats. And it's hard to believe, but I think he preceded Scully in Brooklyn.

 

Scully is talking about Harwell on the radio right now. Started his remarks by saying:

"I have a problem ... I want to honor him without getting in the way of the ballgame. So let's see if we can do both."

Also added "I could never say 'God Bless You' to Ernie, because God had blessed him so completely already."

Class all the way ...

 

Heard of him, but being a West Coaster, didn't hear him call a game until that National Old Timers Game at RFK, then heard him during a few post-seasons.

Just hearing his voice I get the sense of a sultry summer night, a fan humming in the background, a half-empty can of beer and the faint smell of a cigar. If I get one announcer for a baseball game, I'll take Harwell. Scully is a legend as well - but if they switched jobs 40 years ago, Harwell's death would be on par with Sinatra's.

 

You're close. Swap out a can for a draft beer from the taps at Tiger Stadium, throw in a concourse and aisleways smelling of hot dogs, stale beer and a waft of urine, a steamed ball park frank with Red Pelican mustard and "Nuts to You, From Kars", vendors selling scorecards for a quarter and pencil for a nickel and ushers with green caps (the real kind, not baseball caps) and you'd be correct.

 

A true legend. RIP.

 

When I was a kid I loved fiddling with the radio to see how many ballgames I could pull in from my bedroom in the middle of Iowa. I thought it was the coolest thing ever that I could actually hear a radio station in Cincinnati or St. Louis or Dallas.

 

Obviously, I don't have the attachment that longtime Tiger fans do to Mr. Harwell, but when I moved to the U.P. in 1997, he was my link to baseball.

I had no TV and was living in a $200/month apartment, but I had a radio and could have baseball on in the background -- and with those Tiger teams of the late 1990s, it was mostly a lot of guys "standing like a house by the side of the road" as strike three flew past them.

A great announcer and, from all accounts, a true gentleman. RIP.

 

I'm convinced one of the reasons I'm still in love with baseball, its sins and all, is that I got to listen to Russ Hodges and Lon Simmons on the old Golden West Radio Network, broadcasting the Giants. That's a love that's still nurtured today, but by Jon Miller on Giants radio -- in fact, I first heard of Harwell's passing from Miller while driving back from a high school softball game -- along with an occasional dose of Scully (no Dodger fan here). How nice to live in a place where both teams have local affiliates. Hodges, of course, was on the radio for Bobby Thomson's homer, but Ernie Harwell was on TV that fateful day.

I only heard Harwell on national broadcasts here on the West Coast, but about 20 years ago I took one of those ballpark vacations: Eight days, eight games, seven cities, and Tiger Stadium was one of the stops. There must have been about two dozen of us sitting along the first base line in the upper deck, all wearing tour caps, when one of the ushers came over and started asking about our group, ect. He then said he was going to mention us to Ernie Harwell. I was skeptical, until about the third or fourth inning, when all of a sudden Harwell starts talking about our group. I know I'd never heard that before and I likely never will again ... that's what kind of relationship Harwell had with his audience!