As a native of Los Angeles I have been privileged to listen to some of the greatest announcers you could ever find, Dick Enberg, Chick Hearn and the great Vin Scully. I could easily dedicate an entire post to each man in which I could laud their skill and their ability to paint a picture with words, but it is Spring Training now and that means baseball.
And if you are talking about baseball you have to think of Vin Scully. Scully is an artist. He is a virtuoso, a true wordsmith and he doesn’t suffer from the problems that so many other announcers have. He is able to tell stories without detracting from the game. He knows when to speak and when not to speak.
At a later date I might write a longer post praising Scully but right now I want to go in a different direction and share a memory.
The year is 2001. It is a warm summer evening and my seven month old son is teething. Inside the condo I am doing all that I can to try and ease his pain. I sing, I dance, I give him a teething ring to gnaw on. The singing and dancing are so bad he screams louder. I think that his eyes and ears hurt now too.
I am exhausted. Normally I have help but not this night. Smart man that I am, I have sent his mother out for some girly fun. I figured that it would be fun to hang out and do “man stuff” together. Now I realize that at seven months he can’t do all that much, but I figure you are never too young to start learning.
Eventually I turn on the stereo and hope that I can find some music to soothe our nerves. Lo and behold the unit is set to the Dodger’s home station and the game is on. To be honest I can’t remember who they were playing or what the score was.
What I do remember is that almost as soon as Scully started talking my son stopped crying. He lay there with his head on my shoulder and together we let Vinny take us to Dodger stadium. It was a magic moment and a special memory that I’ll always have.