Dave Niehaus, Wordsmith Extraordinaire

I don't really enjoy being read to.  It's like having a middleman between me and the words.  I prefer the direct approach, with the words going straight through my eyes and into my brain, exploding into Technicolor dioramas filled with romance and adventure and worlds I might never experience otherwise.   When someone reads to me, I can't seem to visualize things like this, which may explain why I am not a fan of audio books either.

So you can only guess how I feel about listening to sports announcers describing a baseball game on the radio.  Yawn.  Not for me.  Might as well get my blankie and take a nap now.

However. . .Dave Niehaus was the exception.  He was "the voice" of the Seattle Mariners from their first baseball game in 1977 through the end of this 2010 season.  He passed away Wednesday, at the age of 75, and I am one of many saddened by this news.

He was with the Mariners from the very beginning, back in the dark days when they managed to rise in the standings from god-awful to horrible.  When the only exciting thing was Ken Griffey Jr., a rookie phenom, crashing into the outfield wall to make a spectacular, uncatchable catch—for the umpteenth time. 

Okay, it was pretty exciting each year during the "Buhner Buzz Night" promotion, when fans could get in free if they were willing to get their hair shaved off to match outfielder Jay Buhner's bald head.

But we never started a game expecting the team to win.  We considered it progress if they could keep the score relatively close to the winning team's runs.  Instead, we enjoyed the sight of Griffey blasting through records for home runs, RBIs, bases stolen, and anything else he felt like.  We grinned when Dave Niehaus exclaimed, "My oh my!" each time the M's played great ball, even if that ended up being the only highlight in a game won by the other team.

If the Mariners did win, it was beyond exciting.  It bordered on the miraculous.  In those days, you had to be a die-hard baseball fan, because getting, and staying, over .500 never lasted past July.  For the non-baseball folks out there, that meant the M's lost more games than they won, so their season was pretty much over at the halfway point, during the hottest part of the summer. 

Still, listening to Dave Niehaus calling each game, it was a lot easier to keep the faith, even when there was nothing but losing, season after season after season. 

I listened to a lot of Mariners' games on the radio, sitting on my friend Jane's deck, swatting away mosquitoes while Dave Niehaus wove his spell.   He was the ultimate wordsmith, describing the details and nuances of the game so you felt smack dab in the middle of the action.  Thanks to Dave I could see what the opposing pitcher was doing during his windup, and I could also keep my eye on the runner at second, who was hoping to steal--and tie up the game--once the pitch headed towards the plate.

Then there would be an unexpected crack of the bat, and the rising excitement in Dave's voice, making us all sit forward, our hands clasped hopefully.  Would THIS hit be the one to make it over the wall?  According to Dave, the outfielder was racing backwards, chasing the ball, leaping up to make the catch.  We sat back, sighing with disappointment, pretending it was what we had expected.  But then all of a sudden Dave cried out, "Fly away!", his trademark way of telling us it was a home run.

There are so many different ways to mark the passage of time.  For me, this year did so with changes involving the baseball team I loved to follow.  Lou Piniella, the manager for a different team now, and Ken Griffey Jr., both retired.  Who could ever imagine Griffey being old enough to retire, for crying out loud?

And now Dave Niehaus is gone.

He is an indelible connection to summer memories I will always treasure.   I moved away from the Seattle area a long time ago, after I was fortunate enough to see, in person, the Mariners win the tie-breaker that sent them to their first-ever playoff season.  They were still playing home games in the Kingdome then, but it was blasted to smithereens a few years later and replaced by Safeco Field, which I have not seen yet.  It's been a lot of years since I've seen the people who listened to those games with me, but I always assumed we'd pick right back up some day, with Dave Niehaus describing everything for us like he had before. 

The great thing is he got to do the job he loved until the day he died.  How many of us actually have that opportunity?  Even better, how many of us can affect others with our words, and the stories we create with them, the way Dave Niehaus did?

It's certainly a goal worth aiming for.  It's one I'm striving to accomplish, every day, with every page.

Comments

[Maureen]

I heard about him this afternoon, on my news radio, KCBS, they covered his career some and played an example from that game. Sounded like a very knowledgable and involved newscaster.

I'm with you, we'd all like to make such an impression with our chosen careers!

[Donna Cummings]

Maureen, he really was great--one of those people who make an impact when you don't realize it. I saw a quote where he said he loved his job and that "he never had to work a day in his life". :)

[Bren]

WOW! Did you ever send ME back! Thanks so much for this post!

I remember sitting on my grandfather's lap, cheek against those itchy wool shirts he wore three out of four seasons, and even then at night in the summer, smelling of sawdust and tool oil and shellac and Michelob and the Lime Rum aftershave he would buy every winter in Florida, listening to the rumble of his voice through his chest, listening to Red Sox Games either on the radio or on TV. Curt Gowdy would amble along, filling my ears with syllables that made no sense to a little girl who didn't even understand the game. Then all of a sudden Curt's voice would rise, volume and tone ratcheted up, up, up and he would ERUPT in a joyous babble over some hit or catch or pop fly or what have you.

As evocative as smells can be, for me sounds are close behind. Your post sent me on a sweet and happy sojourn back to the days.......

[Donna Cummings]

It's funny how sounds and smells can evoke such emotional memories.

It's also interesting how many connections I have to people because of baseball, specifically the Mariners--boy did we discuss the heck out of these games! I'm definitely feeling the need to revisit those people, and those times.

I'm glad it was a nice trip down memory lane for you. :)