Our voice of summer
For Mariners announcer and Hall-of-Famer Niehaus, the thrill endures
This editorial appeared Tuesday in the Tri-City Herald.
In this darkest of seasons, memories of Sweet Lou, Edgar, the Big Unit, Bone and Junior seem a painful reminder of how far the once mighty Mariners have fallen.
Even Ichiro looks to be a step behind his usual all-star pace. SoDo mojo? Just a nonsense rhyme.
How quickly disaster descended this year. By the time winter loosened its grip on the Northwest, Seattle fans had lost all hope for glory.
In these first days of August, it’s clear that even the modest goal of achieving respectability will have to wait until next year.
But one bright, shiny moment has salvaged the 2008 season for Mariners’ fans, and it didn’t happen on the field.
On July 27, in Cooperstown, N.Y., play-by-play announcer Dave Niehaus was inducted into the Hall of Fame.
For Mariner faithful, that’s enough.
Niehaus gracefully accepted the 2008 Ford C. Frick Award for his contributions to baseball broadcasting with a speech that spectators found both moving and genuine.
The rest of his time at Cooperstown, Niehaus acted the way he always does – like a fan, thrilled to be near the game.
When fellow Hall-of-Famer Sandy Koufax offered a few kind words, Niehaus nearly lost it, reported Larry Stone, baseball writer for the Seattle Times.
We wouldn’t expect anything else. Familiarity with the greats of the game has never weakened the thrill.
His enthusiasm for the game and his admiration of its heroes are infectious. It’s one of the reasons why we’ve never tired of listening to him.
In baseball-deficient Seattle, the arrival of the Mariners in 1977 didn’t automatically generate a fan base.
That took the voice of Dave Niehaus, the consummate fan, patiently teaching us how much there is to love about the game.
For 31 years, the sweet summer air has been punctuated with calls of “My, oh my” and “It will fly away.”
It’s impossible to calculate the tons of grass that have been clipped, the gallons of sunscreen applied, the vats of beer sipped or truckloads of charcoal briquettes ignited while Niehaus delivered the game in vivid detail.
It’s even more impossible to imagine the Northwest without him.