On Monday, April 13, Philadelphia lost its voice. Harry Kalas, the Phillies long-time broadcaster, died from heart disease at the age of 73. He was found dead in the press box at Nationals Park several hours before Monday's game.
Kalas was one of the most famous broadcasters in all of sports. He was as well-liked as Chicago's Harey Caray, as well-respected as St. Louis's Jack Buck and as world-renowned as Los Angeles's Vin Scully.
Kalas is as synonymous with summer as wiffle ball and barbeques. As well-known in Philadelphia as the Liberty Bell, cheesesteaks and Rocky, Harry the K has been a fixture in Philadelphia for the past 39 years, and the background music of summer is now gone from Philly.
For someone who has spent his entire life growing up just outside Philadelphia and was weaned on Phillies baseball, Kalas had as big of an impact as anyone on my baseball-viewing life. At only two weeks old, my dad propped me up on a pillow in my house and had me watch a Phillies-Braves game. Although I don't remember Harry's voice, I have listened to him thousands of times on the radio and television since that first viewing experience.
He is best known for his "Outta Here" call when the Phillies hit a home run. Many fans throughout Philadelphia have mimicked this phrase since his first game at Veterans Stadium in 1971.
Although I have never met the man personally, I have three memories that I will forever remember of the man they call "The Voice."
My first memory was attending the Phillies last game at Veterans Stadium on Sept. 28, 2003. After the Phillies lost the game, the team held a ceremony reliving the past achievements and games of the franchise. Harry Kalas emceed the event and did a wonderful job re-telling the history of the franchise.
The best part of the celebration was when Tug McGraw reenacted the last pitch of the 1980 World Series clinching-game for the Phillies. McGraw, who was battling cancer at the time and died shortly thereafter, threw a pitch with Harry Kalas announcing in the background. Due to league rules, home broadcasters were not allowed to broadcast the nationally-televised championship in 1980, but Kalas finally got his chance to make the call.
My second great memory is one of the most special moments in my life. On Oct. 29, 2008, the Philadelphia Phillies won the 2008 World Series. After two days of rain-soaked delays, the team finished Game 5 by winning 4-3. After watching the game at a friends' house, I rushed home to hear Harry Kalas's call of the clinching pitch:
"One strike away, nothing-and-two to Hinske ... Fans on their feet, Brad Lidge stretches ... the 0-2 pitch ... Swing and a miss; he 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!"
This call will be forever etched in the minds of Philadelphia sports fans. Every time I listen to that call I remember the happiness and excitement of the Phillies winning the World Series. After Kalas's death, the call holds even more meaning for Philadelphia.
My final memory is the reaction of friends' and players to the death of Kalas. Kalas was a smoker for most of his life and enjoyed going to bars after games. Before the Phillies game against the Nationals a few hours after his death, several Phillies lit a quick cigar in honor of their broadcaster. After center-fielder Shane Victorino hit a home run in the third, he crossed himself as he stepped over home plate and pointed to the press box where Harry would have been. Most of the players and coaches were visibly emotional after a moment of silence was held for their broadcaster.
The outpouring of reactions was not limited just to the ballpark. Later that day, I was listening to 610 WIP Philadelphia Sports Radio and there were tons of phone calls with personal stories with Kalas. Many fans revealed he was not just a great announcer, but also a great person. He never refused an autograph and enjoyed making a personal connection with each and every fan. One of my friends called me after hearing the news of his death and was almost in tears as he recalled his favorite memories. Another friend told me he was going to get a personalized jersey with "Harry Kalas" on the back.
Kalas fell in love with the game of baseball when he was a very little kid. His dad brought him to Comiskey Park in Chicago and during a rain delay, Mickey Vernon of the Washington Senators invited him into the dugout. He was introduced to players, which led to the Senators being his favorite childhood team. Kalas's life came full-circle as he collapsed in the Washington Nationals [formerly Senators] ballpark last Monday.
After being inducted into the Hall of Fame in 2002, Harry Kalas recited a poem that ended "We [broadcasters] feel your passion through and through, Philadelphia fans, I love you." Phillies fans enjoyed Harry Kalas as much as he enjoyed them.
God bless you Harry Kalas, Phillies games will never be the same.
