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If you're a Yankee fan, then you might like some of these:

Bronx Bomber Audio : Sunds of the Century

Of course we need 2009 and John Sterling has gotten more scripted over the years which makes his calls come across to fill his ego. The 1996 clips sound genuine and unrehearsed. Probably in part because it was the first time Yanks did anything in 18 years.

my favorites:


http://www.davidyounker.com/br...rsounds/96bernie.wav

http://www.davidyounker.com/br...rsounds/96wslast.wav
Last edited by zombywoof
Originally Posted by RJM:

Oh doctor! Hang a star on that one!

 

-Jerry Coleman

Echos of Red Barber.  I didn't hear it, but "I'll be a suck egg mule." has to be one of the best.

 

Speaking of the Padres, Leitner is an off the cuff poet, I'll try to find a link to his best.

 

Joe Angel: "Wave that baby bye-bye."  He is excitable when the O's play well.

 

Jerry Howarth, Toronto, has a mellifluous voice in a category with Vin Scully, who is outstanding in so many ways.

 

The other Cardinals' Mike Shannon reminds me of my grandfather.  "Get up, get up, get outta there!"

 

The Royals announcer (Denny Matthews?) has a country boy kind of distinct voice.  I enjoy his anecdotal information on players.

 

Despite being a Yankees fan, I really enjoy listening to Joe Castigleone with the Red Sox.

 

Bob Eucker has good voice calls a good game.

 

 

Originally Posted by cabbagedad:

Don't know if he is radio or just TV, but the absolutely most irritating play-by-play today is the White Sox guy when they hit a HR.   "Put it on the boooaaaaarrd, yeeyeessss!

Takes all the fun out of watching what Abreu is doing.

Cabbage, Thats TV guy Ken "Hawk" Harrelson.  Different tastes I guess, I love him. 

Originally Posted by Go44dad:

Anything Vin Scully.  And I hate the Dodgers.

 

"two and two to Harvey Kuehn"

The entire transcript....

Three times in his sensational career has Sandy Koufax walked out to the mound to pitch a fateful ninth where he turned in a no-hitter. But tonight, September the ninth, nineteen hundred and sixty-five, he made the toughest walk of his career, I'm sure, because through eight innings he has pitched a perfect game. He has struck out eleven, he has retired twenty-four consecutive batters, and the first man he will look at is catcher Chris Krug, big right-hand hitter, flied to second, grounded to short. Dick Tracewski is now at second base and Koufax ready and delivers: curveball for a strike.

 

<dl><dd>Oh-and-one the count to Chris Krug. Out on deck to pinch-hit is one of the men we mentioned earlier as a possible, Joey Amalfitano. Here's the strike one pitch to Krug: fastball, swung on and missed, strike two. And you can almost taste the pressure now. Koufax lifted his cap, ran his fingers through his black hair, then pulled the cap back down, fussing at the bill. Krug must feel it too as he backs out, heaves a sigh, took off his helmet, put it back on and steps back up to the plate. Tracewski is over to his right to fill up the middle, (John) Kennedy is deep to guard the line. The strike two pitch on the way: fastball, outside, ball one. Krug started to go after it and held up and Torborg held the ball high in the air trying to convince Vargo [the umpire] but Eddie said no sir. One and two the count to Chris Krug. It is 9:41 p.m. on September the ninth. The one-two pitch on the way: curveball, tapped foul off to the left of the plate.</dd><dd> </dd><dd>The Dodgers defensively in this spine-tingling moment: Sandy Koufax and Jeff Torborg. The boys who will try and stop anything hit their way: Wes Parker, Dick Tracewski, Maury Wills and John Kennedy; the outfield of Lou Johnson, Willie Davis and Ron Fairly. And there's twenty-nine thousand people in the ballpark and a million butterflies. Twenty nine thousand, one hundred and thirty-nine paid.</dd><dd> </dd><dd>Koufax into his windup and the one-two pitch: fastball, fouled back out of play. In the Dodger dugout Al Ferrara gets up and walks down near the runway, and it begins to get tough to be a teammate and sit in the dugout and have to watch. Sandy back of the rubber, now toes it. All the boys in the bullpen straining to get a better look as they look through the wire fence in left field. One and two the count to Chris Krug. Koufax, feet together, now to his windup and the one-two pitch: fastball outside, ball two. (Crowd booing on the tape.)</dd><dd> </dd><dd>A lot of people in the ballpark now are starting to see the pitches with their hearts. The pitch was outside, Torborg tried to pull it over the plate but Vargo, an experienced umpire, wouldn't go for it. Two and two the count to Chris Krug. Sandy reading signs, into his windup, two-two pitch: fastball, got him swinging.</dd><dd> </dd><dd>Sandy Koufax has struck out twelve. He is two outs away from a perfect game.</dd><dd> </dd><dd>Here is Joe Amalfitano to pinch-hit for Don Kessinger. Amalfitano is from Southern California, from San Pedro. He was an original bonus boy with the Giants. Joey's been around, and as we mentioned earlier, he has helped to beat the Dodgers twice, and on deck is Harvey Kuenn. Kennedy is tight to the bag at third, the fastball, a strike. "O" and one with one out in the ninth inning, one to nothing, Dodgers. Sandy reading, into his windup and the strike one pitch: curveball, tapped foul, "O" and two. And Amalfitano walks away and shakes himself a little bit, and swings the bat. And Koufax with a new ball, takes a hitch at his belt and walks behind the mound.</dd><dd> </dd><dd>I would think that the mound at Dodger Stadium right now is the loneliest place in the world. Sandy fussing, looks in to get his sign, "O" and two to Amalfitano. The strike two pitch to Joe: fastball, swung on and missed, strike three. He is one out away from the promised land, and Harvey Kuenn is comin' up.</dd><dd> </dd><dd>So Harvey Kuenn is batting for Bob Hendley. The time on the scoreboard is 9:44. The date, September the ninth, nineteen-sixty-five, and Koufax working on veteran Harvey Kuenn. Sandy into his windup and the pitch, a fastball for a strike. He has struck out, by the way, five consecutive batters, and that's gone unnoticed. Sandy ready and the strike one pitch: very high, and he lost his hat. He really forced that one. That's only the second time tonight where I have had the feeling that Sandy threw instead of pitched, trying to get that little extra, and that time he tried so hard his hat fell off — he took an extremely long stride to the plate — and Torborg had to go up to get it.</dd><dd> </dd><dd>One and one to Harvey Kuenn. Now he's ready: fastball, high, ball two. You can't blame a man for pushing just a little bit now. Sandy backs off, mops his forehead, runs his left index finger along his forehead, dries it off on his left pants leg. All the while Kuenn just waiting. Now Sandy looks in. Into his windup and the two-one pitch to Kuenn: swung on and missed, strike two. It is 9:46 p.m.</dd><dd>Two and two to Harvey Kuenn, one strike away. Sandy into his windup, here's the pitch:</dd><dd> </dd><dd>Swung on and missed, a perfect game!</dd><dd> </dd><dd>(Crowd cheering for 38 seconds)</dd><dd> </dd><dd>On the scoreboard in right field it is 9:46 p.m. in the City of the Angels, Los Angeles, California. And a crowd of twenty-nine thousand one-hundred thirty nine just sitting in to see the only pitcher in baseball history to hurl four no-hit, no-run games. He has done it four straight years, and now he caps it: On his fourth no-hitter he made it a perfect game. And Sandy Koufax, whose name will always remind you of strikeouts, did it with a flourish. He struck out the last six consecutive batters. So when he wrote his name in capital letters in the record books, that "K" stands out even more than the O-U-F-A-X."</dd><dd> </dd><dd>Sorry if this isn't in keeping with the intent of the OP, just wanted to share some of the Ol' redhead with those who've never had the good fortune to hear him.  He's simply magic to the generations of southern Californians who grew up listening to him.  In my own youth, he was an escape from an abusive step-father.  The muffled voice from the transistor radio hidden beneath my pillow was a comfort in troubled times.</dd></dl>

My son hit his first homer in his first LL all star game when he was eleven. It was a bomb. Approaching home he went into his best Harry Kalas ... "That baby is way outta here, home run." It became a team cheer every time someone hit a homer.

 

Harry Kalas lived nearby. He hung out in a piano bar down the street. One time a drunk was thrown out. Kalas announced it, "That drunk is outta here, bye bye."

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