Hall of Fame Broadcaster Harry Kalas Dead

[PirateLover]

Ian you posted as I was still gathering my thoughts. I had trouble holding back the tears this morning as well. I just feel depressed, through and through.

[Ian]

I kinda somehow knew you'd be the first one to respond, Maryanne ... I also knew you'd understand ...

I don't know how we move on. I mean growing up for me it was always Harry, Merrill, Gene, and Zink and now Merrill is the last man standing.

Somehow this is really just making me feel very old and very sad ... yesterday was a horrible day because of this. I listened to the game broadcast on the way home and I have to say I really loved the way those guys handled it. The in-game tributes and little nods to Harry were very appropriate, but they still just made me feel even worse.

[DAKustodial]

Maryanne, I don't know where we're going to go from here either. Watching the game yesterday was completely surreal. The broadcast booth did a fantastic job but they can't talk about Harry every day for the rest of the season...it's just never going to be the same again.

Ian, I don't think you're foolish at all and I have been going through the exact same things. Harry's voice just coincides with memories from not only my life but every baseball fan's in this area. I was listening to his greatest calls this morning and remembering where I was when they happened and who I was with, and many of those people have passed away as well. It's just very, very sad.

[Scar]

Although I'm not a Philly fan, where I live I have always been able to pick up Philadelphia TV and Radio. The voice of Harry Kalas is one I can remember from my earliest days. Soothing and rhythmic with the perfect touch of coarseness. He was great and will be missed.

But move forward you must. I know I thought Tom McCarthy was great the two years we had him. And doesn't Harry's son also do play-by-play?

[BMan62]

After DAK posted the info about the Jason Stark article, I had to go read it and listen/watch the related clips.

It was very hard to hold back tears. It hit me almost as hard as when my own father passed 10 years ago.

In 40+ years of rooting for the Phightin's and 4 years of Sunday Season tickets (90 - 93 - 200 Level at the Vet,) some of my fondest memories are of Harry's calls on radio and television.

My wife actually asked me, last night, if the Phils will do anything like the retired numbers for players for him. I assured her that this was a no-brainer, there WILL be a monument to "Harry the K" right along with all the retired numbers!! Hopefully, right beside Richie Ashburn!!

[Ian]

I actually started a Facebook group encouraging fans to petition the Phils to rename Citizen Bank Way to Kalas Blvd.

I think that's the level of tribute Harry warranted.

[PirateLover]

I actually started a Facebook group encouraging fans to petition the Phils to rename Citizen Bank Way to Kalas Blvd.

I think that's the level of tribute Harry warranted.

I like that idea. Not sure if it's made it's way to Facebook yet, but there's also a movement to make High Hopes the 7th inning stretch song. I think Harry would love that.

[Hammer]

I think I can finally put down my thoughts without uncontrollably sobbing. Managed to get through the day by having the game on in my office with the sound off, as I could not handle hearing a game without Harry just yet. I get into my car to drive home and listen to the end of the game on the radio. I hear Lidge give up the 2 run homer, shortening the lead to 1 run. I said a silent prayer that I know Lidge's streak will end, God, just don't let it be today. Lidge pulled it together and they won, but you could hear how hard the game was for the radio announcers, especially Larry Andersen. As they were signing off, Scott Franzke out of habit started to say "this is Scott Franzke and for Larry Andersen and " when he stopped as he was about to say Harry Kalas, as he would for any other game. His voice broke, not knowing what to say. Larry Andersen finished it, saying "and Harry Kalas" which is when I shed the first tears.

Later last night, I was flipping between the Comcast tribute and the Rays game on my MLB Extra Innings package (for those who do not know, Harry's oldest son is the pre and post game host for the Rays). Of course, Todd was not there and the Rays' broadcasters explained why and offered their own tribute. Then the game started. As most of you know, the Rays blew out the Yankees, but I was watching the Pat Burrell at bats. He was very somber and you saw the Rays players saying things of encouragement to him. Well, I was watching when Pat hit is first non-Phillies home run and he ran with his head down, no smile. All I could think was Harry making the call of this home run and then I really started to cry.

[PirateLover]

I had a free period and decided to cope with my feelings by writing a letter to Harry. It actually gave me a lot of closure.

Dear Harry Kalas,
I knew that you were getting up in years, and that your health had been ailing. I knew that I had to start preparing myself soon for the fact that your role in Phillies broadcasting might start to become less and less over the next few seasons, and that inevitably, one day, you would no longer be “our voice.” However, I did not expect that day to come on April 13, 2009, a little over an hour before an actual game, when you had just called a stellar one the night before.

I was going along on my merry way, and feeling rather good about what I had accomplished on my last day off for Easter break, when I first I first saw the breaking news that you had been rushed to the hospital after passing out in the booth. Maybe it was the good mood I was in, but I didn’t think too much of it. As a matter of fact, I selfishly wanted you to hurry up and get better THAT DAY so that I didn’t have to listen to Wheels and T-Mac drone on for a whole game. Little did I know that I would indeed be listening to them, but it would be due to your passing, not just a minor blip that would land you in the hospital for a few days. Shortly after the original report, an additional sentence was added, a brief quote from David Montgomery that said “I think it’s serious.” All of the sudden I got nervous. I waited with baited breath as I listened to 610 WIP and constantly refreshed Philly.com for news of your health. Then it happened.

Anthony Gargano, with a heavy voice announced that he had bad news. Before he even got the rest of it out, I gasped audibly and burst into tears. I began sobbing uncontrollably. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking. It was if I had just been told that my own grandfather had passed away. Here I was, hysterical over the passing of a man whom I had never had the pleasure to meet, yet somehow felt like family. A man whose voice resonated in the background of my life for 6 months out of every year since my birth in 1985. The man whom my brother imitated as he wore his Mike Schmidt outfit and ran around the bases in our backyard as a child. The man whose call I would hear over and over again as I would push the button on my brother’s plaque commemorating Mike Schmidt’s 500th home run: “"Swing and a long drive! There it is! No. 500! The career 500th home run for Michael Jack Schmidt!” It mesmerized me. You were the soundtrack to car rides in the summer. You were on in the background of the hospital room when I would visit my grandfather during his illness. The voice I fell asleep to while I struggled to stay up and watch the West Coast games. Just the other day, on Easter Sunday, I wasn’t feeling so great and dozed off on the couch watching the game. I was awakened twice by your excited home run calls, one for Chase Utley and one for Matt Stairs. And now I will never be awoken by your live calls again. All of your calls now will have to live on through tape and our own memories.

The thing I will miss about you most is that you really understood how to let the game breathe. I don’t think many modern day broadcasters “get” that. Chris Wheeler especially. Sometimes you just have to be quiet, and let the game and the crowd speak for itself.

I will miss everything from the great one liners like “Chase Utley, you are the man!” to your common phrases “Outta here!” and “Swing and miss, struck eeemmmm’ ouuuttt!” to the simple everyday calls “No runs, hits errors” “Just misses the inside corner” etc. I will miss your frustration occasionally coming through during the myriad of losing seasons and missed opportunities that you had to call throughout the years. Even though we were all miserable, your voice seemed to make it a bit more bearable. I will miss you breaking out in a rousing rendition of “High Hopes” whenever you felt the occasion called for it. I will miss you singing along to “Take Me Out To The Ballgame” and throwing peanuts out to the fans. I will miss my dad bringing his walkman to the games so that he could still hear the broadcast. I will miss coming home from a game and turning the radio on right away to hear how you called it on the days when we didn’t have a headset. I will miss trying to find you in the press box with my binoculars. I will miss hearing your voice on Campbell’s soup commercials, and narrating highlight reels for NFL films. But most of all, I will simply miss you being a part of my life.

The Phillies were the first sports team I ever fell in love with, and in the past few years the game of baseball itself has risen to the top of my list to the point where I’ve begun to eat, sleep, and breathe it. To me, you ARE baseball. I’m just not sure how it will ever be the same without you behind the microphone. I can only thank God that he let us keep you long enough to finally get to hear call a World Series Championship for the Phillies live.
"One strike away, nothing-and-two the count to Hinske. Fans on their feet, rally towels are being waved.... Brad Lidge stretches ... the 0-2 pitch ... swing and a miss! Struck him out! ... The Philadelphia Phillies are 2008 World Champions of baseball! Brad Lidge does it again and stays perfect for the 2008 season, 48-for-48 in save opportunities and let the city celebrate!”

You’re gone now. “Hard to believe, Harry.” I just know you and Whitey are living it up together in that big baseball diamond in the sky. Rest In Peace. We love you.
Sincerely,
Me