Are You a Vin Scully or a Harry Caray? (Quiz)

One of my favorite posts is one I did called "Are You A Kurt or An Axl?" where I riffed on the differences between Kurt Cobain and Axl Rose, the two most prominent figures in rock music in the early 1990s. On a totally different note, I've been thinking a lot about Vin Scully and Harry Caray due to Scully's retirement and the Cubs being poised to perhaps win the big one this year. Caray and Scully were my favorite baseball announcers growing up, despite their obvious differences. I wondered, which one is truly more my style? In case you're wondering, here's a quiz:

1. What is your feeling about broadcast partners?
A. I don't need one, because my words tell stories and paint a rich tapestry, which back and forth banter is unsuited for.
B. Absolutely necessary for when I space out or I've had too many beers.

2. The team just won a really important game on a walk off hit. How do you call it?
A. Let the moment breathe and let the people back home hear the cheering crowd of the stadium rather than me yelling about it.
B. Scream at the top of my lungs in incomprehensible gibberish like I'm having a heart attack. After all, the fans are doing it too, and I'm really just one of them.

3. What's your pregame routine?
A. Studying my notes and remembering especially interesting anecdotes to utilize during the day's game.
B. A sixer of Budweiser.

4. Preferred attire for broadcasting a game:
A. Shirt and tasteful tie.
B. Shirtless.

5. The fans see you as:
A. A kindly, wise father figure dispensing wisdom.
B. Their fun-loving rowdy uncle.

6. You're more likely to be parodied:
A. In a subtle way by The Simpsons.
B. By an over the top Will Ferrell on Saturday Night Live.

7. Your catchphrase is:
A. The warm inviting "time for Dodger baseball" before the game starts.
B. A maniacally shouted "Cubs win" after a victory.

8. Your first postgame phone call after a road game:
A. Is to my wife to see how she's doing and hear about her day.
B. Is to that bar to see about paying for the damages from the night before.

9. What's your attitude about being a "homer" for your team?
A. I'm way too professional for that. The fans don't need me carrying on while watching their team.
B. It's my job to be a homer. I'm a Cubs fan and a Bud man, after all.

10. Have you ever left a job announcing for a major league team?
A. No. I even moved with the Dodgers when they went from Brooklyn to LA, and why not? The Dodgers have been very good to me.
B. Well, occasionally you have an affair with the owner's wife and have to hightail it out of there. That happens to everybody, right?

11. Have you done national broadcasts for the major networks?
A. Yes, for many years.
B. No. They told me drinking on the air was"unprofessional." Whatever.

12. If they did a biopic of your life, you would be portrayed by:
A. Cary Grant
B. Jack Black

13. During the middle innings of a slow game late in the season you are likely to entertain your audience by:
A. Going off on a fascinating tangent about the history of warning track dirt.
B. Trying to say "Andres Galarraga" backwards.

14. If your announcing style was a jazz artist, you would be:
A. Dave Brubeck. Precise and complicated, yet smooth.
B. Ornette Coleman. Free, loud, and unpredictable.

15. At the end of your career, were your fans ready to see you go?
A. No
B. No

Give yourself zero points for each "A" answer, and one point for each "B" answer.

If you have 11-15 points, you are definitely a Harry Caray. You're the lovable life of the party, and even if you have the smell of beer on your breath at inappropriate moments, people still love you.

If you have 6-10 points, you are mix of Harry and Vin. You are a professional with professional standards, but you wear your heart on your sleeve and you love to party every now and then.

If you have 0-5 points, you are a Vin Scully. You are a highly dependable, highly skilled person who other people admire for your hard work and talent. 

In Defense of Hawk Harrelson

[Note: It's been a heavy past couple of days, with bombings in Boston and Baghdad, and some aggravations at work.  (Nothing big, just aggravating.)  In that spirit, I thought I'd talk about baseball, my mindless indulgence for six months out of the year.]

There is perhaps no sport where the announcer matters more than baseball.  Let's face it, baseball does not translate well to television, since the screen cannot capture all that's going on around the field.  It's a slower paced game, one that's great to see in person on a long summer afternoon, but perhaps not the most exciting in an air-conditioned living room.  The announcer is crucial, because she or he gives the game life for the audience at home that can't hear the low hum of ballpark noise or smell the beer and hot dogs.

The best announcers are engaged in a kind of conversation with their audience.  They can be either erudite narrators of the game (like Vin Scully) or entertaining characters (like Harry Caray), but regardless of style, the great announcers are like an old companion you look forward to spending a few hours with.

Conversely, the worst announcers are like the bad houseguest who won't leave, or your Tea Party uncle.  You just want them to shut up and go away, but for reasons of family or friendship ties, you have to grit your teeth and bear it.  A lot of baseball fans seem to have these feelings about Ken "Hawk" Harrelson, the longtime play-by-play man for the Chicago White Sox, which also happens to be my team.

The fans I talk to can't stand his blatant homerism, exemplified by his terms "good guys" for the Sox, and "bad guys" for whoever they're playing.  They find his "you can put it on the board, yes!" signature home run call to be excessively annoying.  Even worse, they blanch at his many catchphrases and their never-ending repetition: "can of corn," "duck snort," "grab some bench" etc.  Overall, they think he's a boring announcer with multiple irritating tendencies.  Most telling, if you google him, the first website you'll find is dedicated to getting him fired.

Despite this seeming consensus regarding Harrelson's incompetence, I've spent years defending the man, and not because I am a Harrelson-sized homer.  Certainly, you could never mistake him for one of the greats, but I do think that Hawk has a nice, easy delivery, reflecting his Southern roots.  That same background is shared by greater play-callers of the past like Russ Hodges, Red Barber, and Mel Allen, who may have softened their twang, but kept the laconic country cadence so suited to baseball.  When I have a game on in the background, that's exactly what I need.  Hawk may be a homer, but hey, I'm a Sox fan, so what's not to like?

Best of all, I think one of his supposed weaknesses, his economy of words, is a strength.  There are stretches where he will leave a lot of dead air, but I'd rather an announcer not say anything than just blather on incessantly (see: Joe Buck and Tim McCarver).  With the great Steve Stone as his color man, that just leaves more room for a real scholar of the game to do his thing.

Now that I have a subscription to mlb.tv, I have heard announcers from all over the major leagues.  Many of them are good, many are just okay.  However, even the good ones have little individual character, as if they all graduated from the same baseball announcer finishing school.  Sure Hawk might be a blatant homer and prone to repeating himself, but at least he has his own individual character, unlike most sports announcers in our corporate, homogenized times.  Hawk is distinctive and different enough to annoy people, and that alone is a reason to defend the guy.