Ernie Harwell: A summertime companion

[hanasoni]

Re: Ernie Harwell: A summertime companion

As these old time broadcasters pass away, we lose not only great people, but our intimate connection with baseball on the radio, which for many of us, helps define the Sound of the American summer.

Baseball, with its languid pace, is built for radio. You can relax on your back porch on a summer evening, and hang out with with your dad and the game on in the background, and just enjoy that almost daily bond that develops between families, communities and their team. Most of us who grew up with limited baseball on TV have a true fondness for baseball on the radio, and with all the games on TV now, I think we are losing something...

RIP, Ernie.

Well put, Swami.

I grew up in Detroit in the fifties and sixties and can remember listening to many a game on radio, and Ernie's smooth southern drawl, and yes, baseball is made for radio, absolutely.

Ernie, you will be missed! You made baseball what it is for me today. I still get the "tingles" when I walk into a ball park (I really do miss old Tiger Stadium), or pick up a glove and go out and play catch with my son, or a neighbor, or drive an hour and a half to play ball in an over 60 league on a cold Saturday in May. I don't think I would be so hooked on base ball without you Ernie. Thanks, and God Bless you!

A side note: I didn't realize that it has been FIFTY YEARS since the Tigers traded Harvey Kuenn to Cleveland for Rocky Colavito, who became my neighbor for a couple years. I always enjoyed hanging out there game day mornings, as Al Kaline and Dick McAuliffe came by and picked him up; my heros of the era.

Ah, the good old days, and I am very proud to say, even though I never met Ernie in person, he has been a factor in my life! Again, Thank you Ernie Harwell, and God Bless you!

[SteveP]

Re: Ernie Harwell: A summertime companion

Howard Berger of TheFan 590 has a unique perspective on Mr. Harwell by another legendary play-by-play announcer.

[SteveP]

Re: Ernie Harwell: A summertime companion

From Steve Simmons in today's Toronto Sun:

The late Ernie Harwell didn’t just talk baseball. He wrote the poetry of the game, also. And here is a sampling of that love of the game:

“Baseball is Tradition in flannel knickerbockers. And Chagrin in being picked off base. It is Dignity in the blue serge of an umpire running the game by rule of thumb. It is Humor, holding its sides when an errant puppy eludes two groundskeepers and the fastest outfielder. And Pathos, dragging itself off the field after being knocked from the box. Nicknames are baseball. Names like Zeke and Pie and Kiki and Home Run and Cracker and Dizzy and Dazzy. Baseball is a sweaty, steaming dressing room where hopes and feelings are as naked as the men themselves. It’s a dugout with spike-scarred flooring. And shadows across an empty ballpark. It’s the endless list of names in box scores, abbreviated almost beyond recognition.”

[huskyfan]

Re: Ernie Harwell: A summertime companion

one of the things I loved about Ernie - he didn't talk all the time. long pauses where you could hear the crowd. he also called the game, he didn't give opinions. d^mn he was good.

I also had the good fortune to meet him. a gentleman through and through.

[bigmrg74]

Re: Ernie Harwell: A summertime companion

I had the opportunity to go by Comerica Park this morning and pay my respects. Mike Illitch and Dave Dombrowski were both there to greet each and every fan. It was a classy way to honor the classiest guy I have ever known.

Ernie Harwell is the single reason I liked baseball growing up. The Tigers were terrible when I was a kid, but every single night I listened to Ernie because I loved the way he made the game come alive in my mind.

As Ernie once spoke about Tiger Stadium, we say to him today..."Farewell ole friend...we will remember."

Yeah, I went there myself on Thursday afternoon as well. Got in line there at about 2 with the line just a little past the Lot 3 exit/entrence on Montcolm Street, and was probably just a little more than a half our later I was shaking hands with Dave. Hope he soaked that arm in one of the pitchers tubs afterwords, he was going to feel it.

[Puck Swami]

Re: Ernie Harwell: A summertime companion

Nice work caustic.

I didn't grow up in Michigan, and had little exposure to Harwell, but as these old time broadcasters pass away, we lose not only great people, but our intimate connection with baseball on the radio, which for may of us, helps define the Sound of the American summer.

Baseball, with its languid pace, is built for radio. You can relax on your back porch on a summer evening, and hang out with with your dad and the game on in the background, and just enjoy that almost daily bond that develops between families, communities and their team. Most of us who grew up with limited baseball on TV have a true fondness for baseball on the radio, and with all the games on TV now, I think we are losing something...

RIP, Ernie.

[Caustic Undertow]

Re: Ernie Harwell: A summertime companion

I have no idea what he is like as a person, but as an owner and a Detroiter we are lucky to have Mike Illitch. Very impressed that he would greet every fan.

My family and I moved to Duluth last summer to assume an assistant pastor position after I finished school. We love it, and it is nice being somewhere where hockey is relevant again. I caught about a game and a half at the DECC where UMD plays, and I actually did make it to the Minnesota game of the Showcase when we visited family. I looked around a bit but could not find you. I might get to catch the Showcase again this year (closer to where I live, obviously) and I am planning on watching Michigan's Frozen Four semifinal game in person. My next Michigan football game is a bit farther off--Michigan doesn't play in the Cities until 2012 or 2013, I believe.

Can't forget where I come from, though. Nobody hassles me about rooting for the Lions, but being a Tigers fan was tough after game 163.

[STATEdude3]

Re: Ernie Harwell: A summertime companion

I had the opportunity to go by Comerica Park this morning and pay my respects. Mike Illitch and Dave Dombrowski were both there to greet each and every fan. It was a classy way to honor the classiest guy I have ever known.

Ernie Harwell is the single reason I liked baseball growing up. The Tigers were terrible when I was a kid, but every single night I listened to Ernie because I loved the way he made the game come alive in my mind.

As Ernie once spoke about Tiger Stadium, we say to him today..."Farewell ole friend...we will remember."

[streaker]

Re: Ernie Harwell: A summertime companion

That's awesome. It would be interesting to calculate how many people have had that sort of personal encounter with Ernie. Many thousands at least.

And, I'm doing well, thanks for asking.

Absolutely. He was a far better man than we truly know, too.

I also encountered his son, Bill several times. Sounds *just* like his father. We worked together very briefly when I was with a very prominent insurance company in 1985.

Oh, and last time we spoke you were out in California. Now in Duluth? (Heard they are expecting 3-5" of snow tomorrow.) Maybe you can get to Yost some day soon again.

[Greyeagle]

Re: Ernie Harwell: A summertime companion

Pat Reusse's column from today's Strib.

My favorite part:

For me, the most memorable Harwell moment as a broadcaster came in May 1984. The Tigers -- in what would be a World Series-winning season -- were off to a fantastic start. I was listening to WJR late one night when Detroit won in Anaheim.

Harwell gave the totals, the details of the Tigers' latest streak, mentioned matter-of-factly they were now 35-5 and then added in low-key tribute, "What a ballclub."

A single "what a ballclub" from Ernie Harwell was better-earned than all the superlatives a home team can get from a modern-day yelper in a full season.

[Caustic Undertow]

Re: Ernie Harwell: A summertime companion

My own experience with Ernie started back in 1980. I had the humbling good fortune of being a decent high school baseball player and was invited to Tiger stadium with a couple teammates to receive on-field All-League awards prior to the Catholic League championship games. Ernie happened to attend because the Tigers were off that day and were about to open a home stand. He greeted each and every one of us as we exited the field. He didn't have to be there, but he came anyway because he wanted to.

I ran into Ernie a couple of years later while working in downtown Farmington, not far from his home. He was in a banking institution and I was there to pick up overnight deposit bags. I was shocked that he remembered me- and he remembered where I played, what position and what number I wore. He was an incredible human being and I will never forget him- not so much for his announcing skills but for the way he made every one he met feel important. He truly lived what he believed.

That's awesome. It would be interesting to calculate how many people have had that sort of personal encounter with Ernie. Many thousands at least.

And, I'm doing well, thanks for asking.

[Bob Gray]

Re: Ernie Harwell: A summertime companion

Well said Caustic! Thanks for sharing.

[huskyfan]

Re: Ernie Harwell: A summertime companion

great memories!

Ernie made baseball poetry. He was a class act through and through.

[streaker]

Re: Ernie Harwell: A summertime companion

This has been touched on in the Tigers thread, but there are a lot of Michiganders on this board, and I would guess most have fond memories and stories of Ernie. I thought it might be nice to hear some of them; the people in the media have been giving theirs, but Ernie belonged to everybody.

I grew up in a glorious decade for baseball. The Tigers winning the '84 title is one of my earliest childhood memories, and I lived and died with every game of the '87 pennant race. My heroes were guys like Alan Trammell and Kirk Gibson, and summer days were spent with a baseball glove or a bat close at hand. There were games of pickle at a friend's house wearing cheap kids Tiger jerseys. There were solo games in the front yard with the wiffle bat and ball, imitating Ernie's distinct play-by-play. Grip the bat, toss, swing, "Loooong G.." whoops, try again. Toss, swing, "Looooong go..." rats, one more time. Toss, swing, "And it's LOOOONNNGG GAAAAWN!

Dan Miekstyn, one of the local dads, would occasionally round up all of the kids in the neighborhood for a big ball game at the local park. 20 or 30 kids, Dan, and Carl Pray (the kid who was in high school and was very big) with a rag ball, their gloves, and some metal bats. The strategy was to get on base so that when Dan or Carl got up to bat (they were always on opposing teams) they would hit a massive home run and you would score. If a kid got knocked silly, Dan would hold an open hand in front of them and perform a quick examination. "Hey, how many fingers am I holding up?" "Five?" "Nope! Four and a thumb."

The game would continue until the fading August twilight would beckon us to our respective homes. The kitchen would welcome me with the smell of dinner on the stove and the sound of Ernie on the radio. The Tigers would be contending for first place, Trammell and Whitaker would be connecting for a double play, and the Tigers would be on their way to gaining a half-game. With Ernie you could see the green grass and the pitcher waving off the catcher and the giant swing of the slugger, whiffing at a Jack Morris fastball. On dreamy summer nights, everything was right where it was supposed to be. Family, supper, and Ernie.

Ernie was the kind older gentleman who lived next door and took you to a ballgame with his extra change. He would give you all kinds of great insights, and then ask how your sick aunt was doing. If you inadvertently forgot to say "thank you" or ran off without saying good by, he was the man who would chuckle to himself, glad he got to spend the evening.

My "personal" story was when Ernie spoke at a church meeting at Peas Auditorium that my family went to. I don't remember much of what he said, but I remember that before he even began he told all the boys in the crowd to come down to the front. From somewhere, he produced handfuls of brand new baseballs and threw them out to every boy who ran down. As always, approachable, kind, and gracious.

By his testimony Ernie accepted Jesus Christ as his savior in 1960. In the last year of his life he exemplified the peace promised in Romans 5:1 -- "Therefore being now justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ." Ernie had no fear of death because he had God's promise of where he was going. For whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved. We don't need to be sad for Ernie; he really is in a better place.

Instead we are saddened for ourselves. Ernie was a part of the fabric of Michigan for decades, and millions of people have the same fond memories of him that I do. We will miss the occasional guest appearance on a telecast or even his kindly radio commercials. We are saddened for Lulu, his wife of 68 years. We are saddened for our home state, which in this time of hardship has lost yet another piece of what makes it great.

Mostly, though, I am thankful that I knew him. We all did. Like dad coming home from work and pickup ball games and mowing the lawn, Ernie was a part of summertime. The bowls of ice cream, the pickup ballgames, the trees to climb, the warm family dinners. And Ernie.

See you on the Golden Shore, Ernie.

Well written, sir- especially the last couple of paragraphs. I hope you are doing good.

My own experience with Ernie started back in 1980. I had the humbling good fortune of being a decent high school baseball player and was invited to Tiger stadium with a couple teammates to receive on-field All-League awards prior to the Catholic League championship games. Ernie happened to attend because the Tigers were off that day and were about to open a home stand. He greeted each and every one of us as we exited the field. He didn't have to be there, but he came anyway because he wanted to.

I ran into Ernie a couple of years later while working in downtown Farmington, not far from his home. He was in a banking institution and I was there to pick up overnight deposit bags. I was shocked that he remembered me- and he remembered where I played, what position and what number I wore. He was an incredible human being and I will never forget him- not so much for his announcing skills but for the way he made every one he met feel important. He truly lived what he believed.

[jen]

Re: Ernie Harwell: A summertime companion

A nice blog post from Brewers TV announcer Brian Anderson, on his first congratulatory phone call after getting his first MLB job: http://babrewer.mlblogs.com/archives...e_harwell.html

They had a moment of silence for him Tuesday at Dodger Stadium.