| The following story first appeared in The Sporting News
on July 2, 1966.
ST. LOUIS -- "My whole philosophy," said Harry Caray,
"is to broadcast the way a fan would broadcast."
For Caray, this is easy. As listeners of KMOX and the 90-station radio
network know, Harry is the Cardinals' No. 1 rooter. A man who speaks his
mind, the colorful aircaster has survived storms of controversy and
changes of club ownership and sponsors to last 22 years with his beloved
Redbirds.
Among fans, there is little middle ground concerning Caray. As one
sports writer put it: "You either love him like the rich uncle who
just paid off the mortgage on the old homestead, or you consider him
several notches below the guy who smashed the fender on your new
Rolls-Royce."
A Great Paradox
Caray's self-appraisal: "I'm a heck of a paradox. Some people
think I'm always so favorable to the Cardinals and some people think I'm
always so critical of them. I guess it comes down to your style of
broadcasting."
Harry's style is enthusiastic and emotional, and veteran listeners
believe they can detect his feelings -- his dejection or elation -- by the
inflection of his voice. Tune in to Harry, they say, and you can tell who
is winning without hearing the score.
If a fan doesn't like the way the 48-year-old Caray broadcasts, maybe
he should write a letter to the station, contending he could do better.
That's exactly what Caray did in 1942, and the St. Louis radio executive
was so impressed with his approach and subsequent audition, he advised the
young fan 10 go to a smaller station end learn the ropes.
Overcame Competition
He did -- at places like Joliet, Ill., and Kalamazoo-Grand Rapids,
Mich. -- and soon h was back home in St. Louis. In the early years, Caray
and partner Gabby Street were in competition with two other air teams on
Cardinals' games.
Although Caray had never called even a minor league game and was on one
of the area's weaker-powered stations, his electric approach and
ex-manager Street's captivating color comments soon built a large
following. In 1947, Cardinal Owner Sam Breadon awarded Griesedieck Bros.
beer, the Caray-Street sponsor, an exclusive contract.
Gabby Like a Father
To Caray, Gabby Street was like a father. "He was such a great
influence on me -- I was just a kid when I started out and he guided me
along. Gabby was a great philosophizer. He was born 30 years too soon;
today he'd be a national figure. Gabby was perfect -- he'd always have a
humorous story in fit a situation on the field and, to go along with it.
He was a great baseball analyst."
After Street's death in 1951, two other ex-catchers -- Gus Mancuso and
Joe Garagiola -- were among Caray's partners. Today his air aid is Jack
Buck, who joined the team 12 years ago. With help from Jerry Gross, they
also handle telecasts for 22 road games. Caray's son, Skip, does pre-game
fan interviews.
When Anheuser-Busch bought the Cards in 1953, president Gussie Busch
wasn't anxious to retain a broadcaster who had been selling another
company's beer for several years. But a barrage of petitions from fans and
unanimous approval by the firm's beer distributors in the listening area
changed Busch's mind. Caray stayed.
Busch became one of Harry's biggest boosters and sent him on a winter
trip to Bavaria to gather background material for beer commercials.
Hazed in Dugout
The players like to rib Caray. Once, when rain caused a long pre-game
delay, he went into the Cards' dugout for interviews. As he conducted the
show, players swiped his glasses, mussed his hair, dropped ice down his
shirt, twisted his ears and gave him hotfoots. Harry gamely continued,
finally signing off when the playful Birds tried to remove his trousers.
Another time, Harry invaded the top row of the left field bleachers at
old Busch Stadium to get a fan's eye-view. The bleacherites really gave
him the business when he gave a graphic description of a catch by center
fielder Curt Flood -- even though the play was at the base of the wall,
out of sight.
Through it all, most newspapermen consider Caray a good reporter,
exhibiting nimble accuracy on fast-moving plays and a knack for the
penetrating question on interviews. His scoops are many.
And for a guy so pro-St. Louis, his greatest radio thrill came in a
game that didn't even involve the Cardinals. He was at the mike when the
Giants defeated the Dodgers for the 1951 pennant on Bobby Thornton's
dramatic homer.
'It Might Be . . . "
Home runs prompt Harry's suspenseful, "It might he, it could he,
it is!" routine as the ball heads toward the wall. His favorite
exclamation, actually patented, is "Holy Cow!"
Ever the optimist, Harry Caray's joy is unrestrained whenever the team
encounters success. For example, in a 1964 game at San Francisco, a
Cardinal pitcher had just driven in two runs with a double.
"I can't believe it!" Harry chortled. "Roger Craig hit
the left-center field wall! The Cardinals are going to win the
pennant!"
That prediction was made on April 17, during the fourth game of the
year. One hundred and seventy days later, on the last day of the season,
they did. |