The Age of Broadcasting

The Age of Broadcasting

Putting a Stop to Senior Moments in the Booth

by Sam Stern

9/6/03

Bob Murphy, hall-of-fame radio broadcaster for the New York Mets, voice of my childhood, is retiring at the end of this season. He should be remembered as one of the greatest radio voices of all time, calling Mets games for 40 years, and for his memorable catch phrase at the end of every Mets win, "Back with the happy recap," a phrase aped by more than one Sportscenter anchor these days.

Unfortunately, Mets' fans that have caught a game on the radio in the last five years will not remember the legendary Murph of years past. They will instead remember the broadcaster who could barely see the playing field because of failing vision, a fact that was made obvious every time one of his "there's a pop-up to the second baseman" calls turned into a tape-measure home run. They will remember the man who could not pronounce names anymore, and consistently provided the wrong names for opposing, and yes, even home players. They will remember the man who had to be patiently corrected countless times by Gary Cohen; the man who, when doing color commentary, could be silent for minutes at a time, providing no color at all.

This is both sad and unfortunate because Bob Murphy was once a truly great broadcaster. He pulled you into the game, provided insight and cheered on the Mets without being a blatant "homer." He was so good that he consistently outclassed the Mets' TV announcers, making the muted TV combined with radio commentary a necessity for optimal enjoyment of any Mets game.

Nowadays, I find myself secretly relieved when Bob Murphy is not calling games. I have stopped defending him to my spiteful friend who loves to pick on the Murph even though he's an old man with health problems. Like many other great sports broadcasters -- and many great athletes, Mike Jordan as a Wizard being only the latest and most glaring example -- Bob Murphy has hung on too long, not knowing when to step aside, to retire to his golf course and dog track in the Florida sun.

Why didn't someone whisper in his ear that it was time to step aside 5 years ago, saving him the embarrassment and frustration of blown calls, awkward silences and trips to the bathroom during the heat of the battle? Why didn't someone save the Murph from years of embarrassment?

Most likely, no one said anything to the Murph because announcers aren't held to the same standards as players, coaches or general managers.

Think about it. Formerly great announcers get a pass like no one else in sports. Bob Murphy has been running on fumes for 5 years, maybe 10, and, for whatever reason, most Mets' fans would rather have him calling games than anyone else. Do you think Mike Piazza will still be behind the plate when he can't throw runners out at second base anymore? (Whoops, bad example). In all seriousness, though, why do fans give announcers a free pass even when they are obviously washed up? Why do so many of us enjoy the voice even if the man delivering it has nothing left to say?

John Madden and Pat Summerall exemplify this perfectly. The two of them were once the best, but they have severely declined, and have been doing so for at least 5 years. Madden's incessant blubbering about equipment and "the trenches" really adds nothing to the game, and he is so easily distracted from the action on the field that listening to him call a game should drive anyone crazy. The only thing that makes him passable on Monday Night Football is that he followed the regrettable tenure of Dennis Miller. Summerall is obviously senile -- he's retiring only 10 years late -- and I'll leave it at that. His faults are so obvious that picking them out would borderline on ruthless.

All of this discussion brings to mind a solution, something that would satisfy the fans, the networks, the announcers themselves and, of course, most importantly, the status quo.

There are two easy steps to solving the problem of washed-up announcers who were once great and who are still loved by most fans even if they shouldn't be:

Show all games on 5 minute tape delay;

Don't tell us that you're doing it.

Let me explain. In the gap between the live event and the transmission to us viewers, writers can script the lines to be read and delivered by Murphy, Madden, Summerall or whoever else we want to hear it from, but who can't bring it anymore. We get the classic voice we have grown to love transported back to its time through the joy of tape delay.

What I'm proposing is to turn old broadcasters who don't cut it anymore into actors playing great broadcasters. If Michael J. Fox can dominate a basketball game in "Teen Wolf," then it should be no big deal for Bob Murphy or John Madden to dominate a broadcast booth again. All they need is some help. Give them the foresight they used to have, the spontaneity they used to have, and they will again be great.

Whatever you do, though, please don't tell us about it.

After all, ignorance is bliss. Just ask the Murph.

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