Do you believe in unlikelyhoods?" asked Gary Cole, playing Cotton McKnight, in "Dodgeball" (2004).
Announcers are an integral part of any broadcasted athletic competition (imagine just watching a game on TV with no broadcasters - it would drive me insane). In addition to providing some memorable calls (and parodies of such calls, as seen above) and catchphrases ("Yes!"), commentators provide analysis, insight and, in the case of radio, the "word picture."
Sportscasting is not as easy as just putting on a headset and talking (ask anyone on JumboCast). First, you have a partner, or sometimes, two partners, calling the game with you. The best broadcast teams build chemistry, complement each other and almost never interrupt one another. They must be knowledgeable about the sport and fill dead air without sounding stupid. Each announcer brings his or her own flavor to the game, whether it's through humor, accounts of the past, a catchphrase (who doesn't love "Tommy points"?) or simply a manner of speech (Howard Cosell, for instance).
Often, sportscasters become associated with a particular team, especially when they work with one team for a long time. Such examples are Bob Murphy and the Mets, for whom this column is named after (he ended each Mets victory with "We'll be back with the happy recap"), Bob Uecker and the Milwaukee Brewers, and Vin Scully and the Dodgers. In this way, the announcers become as much a part of the team as the players themselves. You associate a voice with each memorable image, such as Kirk Gibson's walk-off homerun in the 1988 World Series, and become accustomed to the personalities of the announcers.
Of course, everyone has his or her favorite commentator. Mine is Gary Cohen, the television play-by-play man for the Mets, and while my view is a little biased, he is quite good. Cohen's voice is pleasant, and he is knowledgeable, unbiased and witty. Before switching to television this past season, he worked in the radio booth and was adept at concisely yet vividly describing the action, while still injecting his humor and intellect into commentary and banter.
I met him while shadowing Mets pre- and post-game reporter Ed Coleman, and it was one of the greatest experiences of my life - I even have a picture of him on my phone to commemorate the sheer awesomeness. Other favorites of mine include Bob Costas, more so back when he was doing basketball on NBC instead of the Olympics, but he does a good job with that too.
And for all the favorites, there are always those broadcasters that for whatever reason, you just can't stand. First, there are the former athletes or coaches that become color commentators, even though they have no announcing history (Cosell refers to this as the "jockocracy").
While there are players and coaches turned analysts that are quite good - Hubie Brown, for example - there are plenty that don't belong in the booth, such as Keith Hernandez, Walt "Clyde" Frazier and Bill Walton. These ex-athletes may understand the game because they played it, but if their announcing skills aren't up to par, then they can make the game much less pleasurable to watch. Hernandez joins Cohen in the television booth for Mets games, and he simply can't keep up with Cohen's wit, even when Cohen prods him with questions (you also can't forget his sexist remark about how women don't belong in the dugout). On the other hand, Ron Darling, another Mets analyst and former Mets reliever, uses his experience more effectively than Hernandez, and his dialogue with Cohen is enjoyable.
The worst broadcast I've ever heard was while listening to a Mets-Phillies game on the radio in May of 2006. In place of the usual Mets commentators were Mike Francesa and Chris Russo, better known as Mike and the Mad Dog, the hosts of a sports radio show in New York. It's not that the two couldn't fill the dead air (quite the contrary), but what spewed out of their mouths onto the radio airwaves was atrocious. Besides having no clue of how to call a game and bombarding various players with insults, I would have rather listened to Sylvester Stallone mumble unintelligibly about the game for three hours than listen to Russo and his helium-injected voice coupled with Francesa constantly referring to Russo as "dawg" for five minutes.
While announcers may not take center stage in a classic sports moment, they are a vital part of sports themselves. In addition, sportscasting is flat-out fun. Some of my fondest memories from Tufts are calling games on JumboCast. There once was a time when I dreamed of being a sportscaster, and there are times when I still believe it's a possibility. At which point, I ask myself: Do you believe in miracles?
Matt Kaufman is a sophomore majoring in economics. He can be reached at Matthew.Kaufman@tufts.edu.
