Harry Kalas

His voice was deep and multi-tonal with the syrup of a southern accent, though he was from Naperville, Illinois. He did not have the precise pronunciation classically associated with the big v/o talent. He had excitement. His call was always in-the-game.

Harry_kalas_with_whitey_1980.JPGI am obsessed with voices. It’s an insecurity thing. When I was in radio the tone of my voice was often called into question. My station in Philadelphia considered electronically lowering the pitch when I moved to mornings so I’d sound like an adult.

I follow voices. I listen to commercials and promos and know who I am listening to. Oh–Randy Thomas, or Will Lyman, or Hal Douglas, or Rick Allison. I recognize their work.

We lost one of those voices yesterday when Harry Kalas collapsed in the Washington National’s press box and later died. Kalas was the voice of Notre Dame football, NFL Films, Campbell’s Chunky Soup and most importantly, the Phillies. He’d been called the games nearly 40 years.

His voice was deep and multi-tonal with the syrup of a southern accent, though he was from Naperville, Illinois. He did not have the precise pronunciation classically associated with the big v/o talent. He had excitement. His call was always in-the-game.

Baseball play-by-play must be a great job. Those who do it often do it long past the point others have retired. Kalas was 73.

I used to enjoy listening to the Phillies games as Harry Kalas and Richie Ashburn would chat-it-up. Often the Phil’s had less than a stellar team, but the conversations (sometimes only peripherally attached to baseball) that surounded the balls-and-strikes made it interesting and kept me involved.

Every baseball broadcaster seems to have a signature call. For Kalas it was, “Swing…and a long drive, watch this baby, outta here! Home run .” I wish I could have written those words as spoken. When Kalas said them they were a brightly lit, oversize exclamation point.

Harry Kalas will be missed. I don’t like change.

Joe Moore – I Feel Your Pain

A few years ago, we installed some automated control room equipment at the TV station. Most of the problems have been ironed out now, but for a while our staff pulled their hair out.

Was it noticeable on the air? I don’t know. It was noticeable in the studio, where we’re all basically dancing backwards in high heels&#185. Any little disturbance ripples through your performance.

It’s because of that, that I can say I feel Joe Moore’s pain. He’s an anchor in Honolulu where the transition to automation had its problems.

A friend sent me this video of Joe, who finally had enough.

By the way, these problems aren’t limited to automation. There is a story I’ve heard over the years about John Facenda, fabled anchor at WCAU in Philadelphia. Through the 70s, he was also the “Voice of God” narrator at NFL Films.

One night Facenda went on, called for the first piece of film… nothing. The next cue and again, nothing. When it happened the third time, Facenda tossed to a commercial, stood up, walked into the control room and said, “We’re going to do this **cker again, from the top.”

And they did.

&#185 – The high heels line refers to the movie role played by Ginger Rogers. It is said, though Fred Astaire got the majority of credit, Ginger did everything he did, backwards, while wearing high heels.