One of the great moments in baseball — not just the story, but the storyteller. Go listen to baseball’s best broadcaster describe the last inning of Koufax’s perfect game in 1965.
Scully talks about virtually nothing but the action in front of him. Even allowing for the drama of this moment, compare and contrast to most current broadcasters who seem incapable of keeping their eye on the ball. And Scully says nothing for 40 seconds after the last pitch. He allows you to savor the moment. It’s not about him.
Link via a fine tribute to Scully at the Bats Blog.
Thanks so much for sharing this treasure.
Scully understands story better than any other broadcaster. He identifies the players and plots and frames them for his audience, and then he lets the action play out.
My personal favorite is his call of Kirk Gibson’s homer in the 1988 World Series. Gibson was injured and not playing, and all through the game Scully reminded the audience of that fact: that Gibson — who had provided the Dodgers with the fighting heart that turned a team of middling talent into a potential world champion — might be able to pinch-hit, but likely not. In the 8th inning, Gibson wasn’t even in the dugout and Scully concluded that he wouldn’t be a factor. Then, in the 9th inning with the stage set, Scully marveled with the rest of us as the crippled Gibson climbed up onto the field.
When Gibson hit his immortal “hobble-off” home run, Scully shut up and let the crowd scream, breaking his silence only to say what everyone was already thinking: “In the year of the improbable, the impossible has happened.”
Man, I’m going to miss him when he retires. Listening to Scully every day was one of the best things about living in Los Angeles.
As a long time Oakland Athletics fan, I can only say that Gibson’s was the worst home run in the history of baseball. Thanks for bringing that up, Tom.
Scully calls segments of Dodger home and western road games this season. He is 81.
Someone with the technology could actually diagram that broadcast, noting how much time he spends on Koufax, the batters, the other Dodgers (since no ball leaves the plate, he only mentions them once), the crowd, the time, etc. He hardly mentions the name of the other team (wait, does he even do that?)
As you note, Ken, the broadcast is so remarkable for what Scully DOESN’T say. Just the bare minimum of statistics (the count, the outs, the attendance, the time/date). What helps him is that the game moves a lot faster, the whole inning is just over 7 minutes. None of this batter moving around in the batters box, time outs, etc. And there are only a a couple of references to the emotion of the situation (“watching with their hearts”), otherwise he plays it completely straight. The little interview at the end is also telling: He lets the game speak for itself, and his theatrical bits are just the time of day.
Amazing.
It was the Cubs. The Dodgers had only one hit; just two base runners for both teams in the whole game. Do you suppose the 29,000+ thought they got their money’s worth?
44 years and Scully’s call is still sublime.
Very enjoyable; thanks for posting this. I also found very interesting the little interview of Mr. Scully about why he stated the time.
Think I’ll subscribe to your blog; I can use a little half-wit from time to time :o)
Referred by @jfleck
I grew up in LA (’50s, ’60s, early 70’s) and Vin Scully and Jerry Doggett were gods to me. I’m sure there’s never been (and never will be) anyone as talented as Vin Scully. Do baseball broadcasters get into the Baseball Hall of Fame? If so, Vin Scully is a shoe-in in my book.
The Ford C. Frick Award is presented annually and amounts to a broadcasters wing in the Baseball Hall of Fame.
1978 — Mel Allen, Red Barber
1979 — Bob Elson
1980 — Russ Hodges
1981 — Ernie Harwell
1982 — Vin Scully
1983 — Jack Brickhouse
1984 — Curt Gowdy
1985 — Buck Canel
1986 — Bob Prince
1987 — Jack Buck
1988 — Lindsey Nelson
1989 — Harry Caray
1990 — By Saam
1991 — Joe Garagiola
1992 — Milo Hamilton
1993 — Chuck Thompson
1994 — Bob Murphy
1995 — Bob Wolff
1996 — Herb Carneal
1997 — Jimmy Dudley
1998 — Jaime Jarrin
1999 — Arch McDonald
2000 — Marty Brennaman
2001 — Rafael “Felo” Ramírez
2002 — Harry Kalas
2003 — Bob Uecker
2004 — Lon Simmons
2005 — Jerry Coleman
2006 — Gene Elston
2007 — Denny Matthews
2008 — Dave Niehaus
2009 — Tony Kubek
I can’t help but notice that Bob Costas is not on the list. Perhaps you can use the platform of your blog to help right this terrible injustice.
One of the very few things I miss about Los Angeles. Another… Chick Hearn announcing Laker games. Man, those guys were good.