Monday, April 13, 2009

Outta here



RIP. As much as I want to toss up the Old School quote, I just can't. There are some things even I won't mock the day they happen, and the death of Harry Kalas is apparently one of them. It's difficult and sad, almost like the death of a grandparent. Except it was millions of peoples grandparent. Listening all the announcers voices cracking during today's game fills me with despair like a memorial facebook.

Longtime baseball announcers enjoy a special place in the collective regional consciousness. For generations of Philadelphia fans, Kalas will always be the voice of the game. Think Harry Caray or Vin Scully. Hopefully the Phils don't construct some bizarre statue of Kalas rising from the depths of hell like the Cubs did with Caray.

1 comments:

Anonymous said...

The dead only know one thing: that they are no longer living.

Also: this is my rifle. There are many like it, but this one is mine.

Whatever happened to Kubrick, anyway. He's doing well in filmmaker heaven, right?

Though I don't think all the sodomy helped.

Too soon?