Most people do not think about 3-2 counts or a pitcher warming up in the bullpen during this part of the year. Football season and the start of basketball dominates the sports landscape. But for most people in the area, baseball has been on their minds during the past week or so.
I have seen posts on Facebook about Dave’s passing from people who think that a slider is just a type of sandwich.
People, not just hard-core sports fans, lost a friend on Nov. 10. The warm breeze that was Dave Niehaus’ voice in the dark and stormy landscape of Seattle sports is gone. He died in his Bellevue home of a heart attack and the Mariners will hold an official day to honor Dave on Dec. 11 at Safeco Field.
For those of us who grew up in this area, Dave was not just an announcer – he was the voice of our grandfather, even if we already had two. He and the Mariners started in Seattle the year after I was born. Like many, he is the only major league baseball announcer I have really known. He was the one that taught us what a “can of corn” was. He explained how it felt to sit in Safeco before we even witnessed the emerald field and felt the warmth of the sun in a Major League baseball stadium. The tomb that was the Kingdome, felt like the Taj Mahal through Dave’s voice.
Many writers and radio personalities have opined about listening to Dave’s stories, his legendary calls, induction into the baseball Hall of Fame and his friendship. I never got to meet Dave, but like many in the area, I felt like I knew him.
But for me, Dave was something else – an idol of integrity. As a reporter I am taught to try and be the most objective as I can with every story. Dave worked for the company he “reported” on.
The Mariners, for as much as we love them, have never been to a World Series. The home-town nine have more than twice as many losing seasons as winning ones. And when something was amiss Dave was not afraid to say something. He was honest in an industry that has too many “homers” (and I don’t mean “fly, fly away”). Most sports fans want to hear an announcer describe their pain, get mad when they do and genuinely get excited for big plays. Dave was all of that and more.
Don’t get me wrong, Dave loved the teams and players and it came through. How else do you put up with only going to the playoffs just four times in 34 seasons. Like most Seattle fans, he just loved baseball.
But drawing a paycheck from a company and then letting people know when things are amiss with it is not easy. And there is never a lack of people waiting in the wings to take a baseball announcer’s job if the team is not satisfied. But Dave’s honesty was the thing that I loved the most. I always find it grating to hear an upbeat announcer during an 11-2 loss. If you turned on the game in the seventh inning you could tell if the Mariners were struggling by the tone of Dave’s voice. If you were frustrated with Bobby Ayala not throwing strikes Dave would express those same sentiments.
Like most fans, I have run the gamut of emotions on this. I know that when the first Spring Training is broadcast in 2011 it will be heart wrenching to hear someone other than Dave greet my ears.
But through it all I am upset that I will never hear Dave say “the Mariners are World Champions.” And I am not upset for me. I know that the Mariners will eventually win a World Series, it might take another 34 seasons, but they will win one. But what I am most upset about is that someone who loved the game as much as Dave did will not get to see it. He won’t get to be in the parade. Will not get to see the pennant raised. Will not get to see 33 years of heartache soothed by October baseball.
What I am happy about is what I missed. I went to Cooperstown in 2008 to see Dave inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame and my flight was rerouted thanks to a bad thunderstorm. I missed his speech in person that day. But in a funny way I was more happy to hear it on the radio.
