The voice of the Phillies for several generations of the team’s fans passed on today, a loss that I think any of us whose mental soundscapes of the game involves memories of one announcer or another can relate to, as something fundamental to fandom. Harry Kalas was one such man, one whose voice illustrated the action on the diamond in a way that only the greats have or can. Here to share their feelings on Harry Kalas and his importance to Phillies fans are two BP contributors, past and present, who follow their favorite team, now and forever, and who knew no other announcer than Kalas.
Eric Seidman: Baseball lost one of its iconic figures today as Harry Kalas, longtime voice of the Philadelphia Phillies, passed away at the age of 73 after collapsing in the announcer’s booth prior to the Phillies-Nationals game this afternoon. As a Phillies fan I took the news particularly hard, and it likely will not sink in for another several days. Watching the Phils-Nationals game while typing these words, it feels like I’m in a malaise, observing the on-field actions yet not processing all of the events. Taking in games without Kalas’s unique voice, commentary, and narration just does not feel right. The Phillies have an otherwise solid broadcasting crew capable of handling his scheduled innings, but he will never be replaced.
I got to know Harry a bit through my father, who formerly served as the Phillies’ television producer, and he always came off as friendly and genuine, the kind of guy who truly loved his profession and took pride in sharing a special kinship with the city of Philadelphia. Be it hanging out in bars with fans during spring training, or signing autographs and taking pictures with everyone interested at his weekly radio show at Chickies & Pete’s, Harry Kalas connected with the Philadelphia fanbase in ways that a very select few could boast. In many ways he was the face of the franchise, a larger-than-life persona with more fame than many of the players.
Those who don’t follow the game intently tend to underestimate the connection between fans and their local broadcasters, often claiming that their illnesses or deaths should not really affect us since no personal relationship was shared. This could not be further from the truth as the announcers serve as our bridge to the action, oftentimes teaching young fans and turning a televised game into a beautiful story unfolding right before our eyes. Harry had been slipping over the last few seasons, making odd mistakes on occasion but the comfort of his voice calling the action canceled these errors out. That voice was absent during the Phillies’ 1980 World Series title due to local announcers not being allowed to broadcast the championship games, but Phillies fans across the globe, myself included, will never forget his call last season against the Rays:
One strike away; nothing-and-two, the count to Hinske. Fans on their feet; rally towels are being waved. Brad Lidge stretches. The 0-and-2 pitch—swing and a miss, struck him out! The Philadelphia Phillies are 2008 World Champions of baseball!
Harry Kalas turned 73 years old a little more than two weeks ago, and got to call an incredible comeback by the Phillies in his final game, highlighted by his patented home-run call on a Matt Stairs bomb. Kalas himself may be “outta’ here!” but he is deeply missed already, and will never, ever be forgotten.
Jeff Hildebrand: I think I speak for all native Philadelphia baseball fans under the age of 45 when I say that I lost a major part of my childhood today. To us, Harry Kalas was what we grew up thinking baseball should sound like. His voice was a staple of summer nights, wherever we might have been listening, whether in Philly, up in the Poconos, or down the Jersey Shore. With his passing today, it’s not going to be the same.
For all but the youngest of Phillies fans, it’s impossible to think of Harry Kalas without also thinking of his long-time broadcast partner, Richie Ashburn. The two of them worked together for 27 years, and were a pair unlike any other. They were close friends and were able to play off each other perfectly. Listening to them broadcast a game was like being invited to listen in as a couple of buddies described the game and do it well. They also clearly had endless fun working together, and either one was perfectly willing to be the straight man for a joke or story from the other. Even when the team wasn’t playing that well in the late ’80s through the mid-’90s, it was always worth it to tune in, because those two would make it enjoyable.
Every story about Harry will inevitably mention his trademark “Outta here!” home-run call, but there was actually more to it than that, and unlike some announcers he didn’t force every situation into the exact same call. Frequently he’d start it with, “Swing and a long drive,” which told you it was deep. If it was a no doubt about it homer he signal it with, “Watch this baby…” but if there was a question about whether it would clear the fence, he’d say. “It’s got a chance” before filling in the relevant result. That variation made it more than a gimmick; instead it was a clever verbal shorthand for describing the action and was indicative of what made Harry such a great announcer.
Much will also be made of his voice and for good reason. Harry had the perfect voice for radio and voiceovers; deep and smooth enough to give it authority, but with a warm edge to it so that you enjoyed listening to it. It was also unmistakable. I moved out of Philadelphia in late 1992, just before the wild ride of the 1993 Phillies. In those days there was no satellite radio or internet broadcast, so mostly you had only the local broadcasts. The Phillies were broadcast on a very powerful AM station that could be heard for hundreds of miles once the sun went down. Even though I was a thousand miles away, I could sometimes pick up the broadcasts when I was lucky. One night I was mostly unlucky due to thunderstorms in the area. Suddenly the static cleared for two seconds, long enough to let me hear that unmistakable voice announce, “Grand slam, Darren Daulton!” Then it was gone and I couldn’t pick up the station for the rest of the night. It wasn’t until I saw a boxscore the next morning that I would believe that had actually happened, and that I hadn’t imagined it.
As sad as Harry’s passing is, I suspect most Phillies fans are thinking, “At least it happened after last season, instead of before.” In 1980, when the team won its first World Series, the national broadcast contracts didn’t allow local broadcasters to cover the games, so the only record of him calling the final out is one that was recreated weeks after the fact, with him watching a videotape. It was a valiant effort, but it wasn’t the same. Last year he finally got to call a World Series championship live. With all due respect to Joe Buck, it won’t be his call that is remembered. It will be Harry’s, “Let this city celebrate!”
Good-bye Harry, and thank you for so many wonderful memories.
Finally, if you want to hear a classic baseball announcer take the time to speak with Baseball Prospectus Radio, please check out Harry Kalas's 2003 appearance with Will Carroll at:
thanks for the post. this is a very sad day for phillies fans everywhere. i feel like my dog died.
i can't help but remember some of his great calls including the world series, schmidt's 500th and terry mo's no-hitter (line drive, SPEARED BY CHARLIE HAYES! CHARLIE HAYES!). what i will miss most however is hearing him day in and day out over the long season. some of my favorite kalas calls were random home runs in the dog days of summer (including my favorite of a ricky jordan grand slam). thanks harry.
One of the giants of broadcasting, regardless of team or city. I bet even those readers who weren't Phillie fans have heard Harry Kalas's voice, given all of his NFL work and even his work as the voice of the Puppy Bowl.
If he had to go, going with his headphones on during a season when the Phillies reigned as World Champions was the way to do it. RIP Harry, and thanks.
Sad day for all Phils fans. One of the greats, his voice is indelibly etched in my memory. When I was young we always watched on UHF channel 17 ("17, 17 the great entertainer" for those that were there) but over the last few years I listened to more and more games on the radio and that was when I truly began to appreciate what a treasure we had. A warm summer night will never quite be the same without his call. Even a simple recitation of the count was genius, always perfectly paced and with that perfect deep voice.
For those who want his immortal voice at their beck and call, Harry did a wonderful voiceover for the band Marah on their debut album, "Let's Cut the Crap and Hook Up Later on Tonight." Terrible title, great record, made even greater by Harry, whose voiceover was apparently recorded in one take and ends with him saying in perfect pitch, "Man, these cats are weird." The track is called "Rain Delay."
During the ninth inning of game 5 of world series, my good friend turned the TV towards the window, went outside, got in his car (no reception in his house) and turned on the radio. Because he "wanted to hear Harry call it"
That's the first thing I thought of when I heard. The second thing is that Kalas was exceptionally pleasant to me and my then three month old son the one time I was fortunate enough to meet him.
Harry Kalas is the only autograph I've ever gotten. I don't know why that matters to me, but it does.
Best Harry call ever to me was in the late-80s when the team was terrible and they won a meaningless game on a 3-run walkoff inside-the-parker by Bob Dernier. It's in my mind like it happened yesterday: "Thon scores, Lake being waved around, MITCHELL CAN'T PICK IT UP, Lake scores, here comes Dernier...". Meanwhile, Richie's inaudibly screaming "Wo's" in the background. Great stuff.
As a native Philadelphia baseball fan over 45 (I'm 53), the sudden loss of Harry Kalas means for me one of the last connections to my Philadelphia youth.
Harry joined the booth when I was 15, and I loved his style right away. As Jeff Hildebrand says, he and Richie Ashburn were "a pair unlike any other". I left Philadelphia permanently when I was 17, but as long as Harry was still doing the games, I felt that not everything had changed, that there was still a connection.
Harry the K loved Philadelphia sports and is the voice of my childhood. He loved interacting with the fans and had personal relationships with a lot of the players. Watching him call the final out last year and the smile that came across his face will always be one of my favorite memories.
Growing up in western NY, I didn't really have a hometown team to root for, but I could pick up Phillies games pretty easily on the radio, and fell in love with that amazing voice, and the childlike rapport between Kalas and Ashburn. Hell, even Tim McCarver sounded alright back then. In many ways, Harry Kalas was one of those voices that made my otherwise tortured adolescence seem worthwhile. He made me a Phillies fan (he and Mike Schmidt), gave me something to root for, and made the 1980 season one of the greatest experiences of my baseball loving life. Thanks Harry.
I suspect there is a special corner of heaven for local baseball radio announcers, and that Jack Buck, Jack Brickhouse, Ernie Harwell, and Richie Ashburn, among many others, are enjoying their new drinking buddy's company right now.
Hey, Beav, it's OK to reserve a place for Ernie Harwell, but as a Tiger fan I'm happy to tell you that he's still too alive to be knocking back stories and drinks with Kalas and the rest.
Thanks for the article. I'm 40 and a life-long Phillies fan - his voice was the soundtrack to so many games and memories. His voice was the one constant over the years - summers are never going to be the same again.
I come at this from adifferent view. When I was a wee lad living in Houston in the late 60's, Harry was one of the Astro broadcasters along with Gene Elston, and Lowell Passe. We would get one tv game every Sunday afternoon. He was a true delight to this young fan.
As a Phillies fan and Gameday Audio subscriber during a couple of mediocre seasons, I particularly remember Harry calling Kevin Millwood's no-hitter.
The one Kalas trademark I've internalized even more than 'outta here'... 'popped him up' followed by a pause (while the ball comes down) and then '[one/two] away.' I still say it, out loud, virtually every time somebody gets under one. (Harry and I both got plenty of practice during the Burrell years.)
Great piece and great comments. I went to the game in Philly to commemorate the passing of Whitey(Rich Ashburn). Harry was fantastic as the emcee of his fallen partner's memorial . Theirs was a very warm and special relationship. (P.S. I listen to MLB audio and the Pat Hughes -Ron Santo relationship ,though with different variables, is also very special). But my favorite Whitey & Harry moment was when Harry was recounting the premature end to Jackie Jensen's career. Jensen was a great RedSox OF but when expansion came , he simply could not handle air travel and retired early. Harry was relatring all of the above and added:" His teammates often had to carry him onto the plane". There was a pregnant pause and then the very dry and impish Ashburn added: " You know, Harry, we've had to carry you onto the plane a few times". Kalas was destroyed. He was to Phillies baseball what Johnny Carson was to late night t.v. It was very special.
I am a lifelong Phils fan; I've been bummed out all week. It feels like the last immediate connection to the teams and players of my youth are now gone, somehow it seems like it all happened "longer" ago; if that makes sense.
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Finally, if you want to hear a classic baseball announcer take the time to speak with Baseball Prospectus Radio, please check out Harry Kalas's 2003 appearance with Will Carroll at:
http://www.baseballprospectus.com/radio/