The Brew Crew is taking on water. Eight straight losses and more questions than answers in mid-May will do that to a ballclub. At this point, you’ll hear things like keep perspective, don’t panic, it’s early, keep plugging away, etc…All true. But, the best remedy might be a good belly-laugh. Only Mr. Baseball can deliver such a potion in times like these.
Bob is recovering nicely from major heart surgery. He said he wanted to have the procedure done quickly so he wouldn’t “take a dixie” on the road! The road is a little “dixie” without him. He asked us to keep things light and in perspective. Good advice for him. Good advice for the Brewers. I’ve been told Bob could be back full-time around the All-Star break. That doesn’t mean I don’t expect him to show up unannounced before then, maybe in a Gorilla suit.
One thing is for sure, in the days leading up to surgery and in the weeks Bob has been away from the team during recovery, everyone on the travelling party has realized the sizeable canyon that was left. To know Bob Uecker means knowing arguably the most famous personality in baseball. Wherever he goes, even today, he is hounded by adoring fans. I’ve seen autograph seekers blow right past Prince Fielder to get to Uecker. I’ve seen movie stars turn into stargazers with him.
I’ve played golf with Bob Uecker. I’ve been on planes, buses and cars with him. I’ve attended functions, shared the microphone and countless of moments “off” the air. His comedic genius doesn’t end with his broadcasts. It flows out of him like a well-watered Chia. I don’t even bother going to stand-up comedy shows anymore. What’s the point? The best 20-minute set in the country happens daily on the 4-o’clock bus to the ballpark with Bob Uecker.
The front row sits empty again today. Hopefully soon, the doctors will clear the way for Uke to re-join the party. The doc’s should take into account what’s best for our health, not just his!
A great artist needs a showroom. Thankfully, there is plenty of wall space in this great game for Mr. Baseball.
Legendary broadcaster Ernie Harwell passed away Tuesday. While the cancer silenced the voice, it cannot touch his legacy. A legacy of character and faith that outweighs a legendary career.
In 2007, I was in my room at the Pfister Hotel in Milwaukee. It was only moments after I had been introduced as the new television voice of the Brewers. My mind was racing with pride and doubt, excitement and fear. I was sitting on the bed wondering what in the world I’d gotten myself into…trying to digest just how dramatically my life was about to change. Then, the hotel phone rang. I picked it up expecting the Front Desk. Instead, a deep, booming, unmistakable voice came pouring through. “Mr. Anderson, this is Ernie Harwell calling from Michigan.” I was shocked and silent. This was a voice I knew well. I had spent hundreds of hours listening to Ernie’s play-by-play. I had a dozen cassette tapes of his games and had mimicked his delivery down to the “looooong gone” during my early years in broadcasting in San Antonio.
There was “the voice” on the phone. My first congratulatory call came from my broadcasting hero Ernie Harwell!
His call came eight years after I spent a memorable evening with him in Arlington, Texas. Lance Parrish, then the Tigers hitting coach, knew my admiration of Ernie and arranged a meet and greet during a Tigers/Rangers series. We met at the team hotel and five minutes into our conversation, Ernie invited me to spend the evening “shadowing” him at the ballpark. He said, “It might do you some good, if you don’t mind hanging out with an old-timah.” I jumped at the chance and was right by his side from pre-game prep to the post game wrap. Ernie was so gracious and willing to share. But when the day was done, our paths did not cross again – until the phone rang at the Pfister.
“Brian, I remember you.” Ernie continued. “I want to congratulate you, young man!” “I’m sure you have a lot to think about but I want you to know that you belong in the big leagues. Welcome to the club!” Ernie then went on to tell me how much he loved Milwaukee and how much he missed traveling there after the Brewers changed leagues. He told me how nervous he was during his first year with the Brooklyn Dodgers and warned me that I’d be fighting some “jittuhs.” He admitted that he worked his entire career with a healthy dose of paranoia about not being good enough (Crazy, I know!) and shared his affection for the Midwest despite growing up in the South, like I did. “You’re going to love working up here,” he said. “The people are friendly and passionate about their teams. Just be honest and be yourself and you’ll fit right in. You might want to buy a heavy coat, though!”
I have always thought of Ernie Harwell as the perfect broadcaster. Having known him, I found out he’s as close to a perfect man as we mortals can be. Before I met Ernie, I wasn’t sure how to live in this fantasy world without losing one’s family, faith and peace of mind. He kept all of those intact at a “hall of fame” level while soaring to the top of his industry. As impossible as it sounds, Ernie Harwell was a better man than he was a broadcaster.
Every time the Brewers travelled to Detroit, I called him. He joined me on the air in 2007 during Justin Verlander’s no-hitter against the Brewers. “That’ll teach ya!” he says. I spoke to him last June and he was pleased to tell me that (at age 91) he just signed a 10 year contract with a 10 year option as a spokesman for a large corporation. Classic Ernie!
Ernie Harwell passed away Tuesday at the age of 92. When I heard the news of his illness, I wasn’t sad. I smiled. I know where his “next adventure,” as he puts it, is headed.
Today, Ernie Harwell fans all over the world, like me, mourn the loss of a great man and mentor. I was blessed to know him. He set a gold standard for character.
Mr. Harwell, thanks for taking the time to make an impact on me. I’ll do my best to follow your lead, both on the air and on the ground.