Speaking of sports...

If you were watching the Ticker this weekend, you may have noticed another prominent passing in the broadcast world: Charlie Jones, the longtime voice of the American Football League, died at 77. The obit noted that Charlie had been with NBC since 1965. When the NFL absorbed the AFL, residents of Billings, Montana, got the Broncos every Sunday afternoon as their regional broadcast. NBC had the AFC rights back then and Charlie Jones was always the play-by-play guy for Broncos games. As a result, his was one of the first announcerly voices that burned itself into my memory, along with Joe Garagiola's.

I even remember one of the times Charlie Jones did not work for NBC. In 1975 and '76 he was the host of a cheepie deepie summer reality show (though they didn't call it that then) for ABC called "Almost Anything Goes." Based on the British game show "It's a Knockout," which itself was copied from a French show called either "Intervilles" or "Jeux Sans Frontiers," "Almost Anything Goes" featured ordinary folk competing in sort of a "Battle of the Network Stars" meets "Truth or Consequences" meets bracketology. All I know is I watched it the whole summer of '75, though I don't remember watching it in the winter of '76 when it was revived by ABC, which needed a placeholder for "Saturday Night Live with Howard Cosell," after that was euthanized.

Charlie Jones reminded me (and probably the executives at NBC) of Curt Gowdy with that gravelly voice of his. Today I would say Cris Collinsworth comes closest to the Jones style, with more of a Southern twang. Actually, though, Charlie doesn't sound like any TV announcer now. TV announcers all have been trained to kick back and take it easy. Charlie Jones was raised on radio, and he always sounded "hot," in Marshall McLuhan's taxonomy, just like radio was hot. I'm always amazed when announcers are called out for "controversial" comments on TV, because usually you play back the tape and all they're doing is repeating things others have said more forcefully. But because it's TV, the remarks get amplified even as the announcers themselves are filtering their words to fit the cool medium.

That's why I was stunned to read about the Milton Bradley-Ryan Lefebvre incident. The Texas Rangers hothead was in the clubhouse during one of the games they won in Kansas City last week (here's a photo I took from KC's lone victory, raising my home attendance record to 4-2) when he heard Lefebvre, one of the Royals' TV announcers, say something that sounded vaguely critical of Milton Bradley, and Milton Bradley was not about to stand for that, so he stormed up to the press box level to find Lefebvre only to learn that he was still calling the game and was not available for a chat.

The incident, predictably, touched off a day's worth of opinionating on the web and talk radio. While few would approach the logistic gymnastics of this writer, who seemed to think it was perfectly OK for Bradley to storm the booth — an opinion apparently not shared by his manager, Ron Washington, who personally chased down his temperamental hitter and escorted him back to the dugout — most people agreed that a day when Milton Bradley did not beat the living tar out of someone was a good day indeed.

But here's my question: Didn't anybody find it strange that Ryan Lefebvre, of all people, would be a lightning rod? First, I should explain that when it comes to baseball, I'm a radio guy. I have a Gameday Audio subscription, not MLB.TV. I want my baseball described to me, and radio announcers do that. TV announcers practically force you to watch the game. When I hear a sound effect while listening to a FSN Kansas City game, it drives me nuts because I know there's something going on that the announcers aren't telling me about. Right now I'm listening to the ESPN game on TV, listening to Jon Miller, one of our national treasures, call the game between the Braves and Angels. Here, now, my list of our national treasures, baseball announcing division:

1. Vin Scully
2. Jon Miller
3. Marty Brennaman (especially after this)

And heading in that direction are

1. Charley Steiner
2. Ed Farmer when paired with Steve Stone
3. Dave O'Brien when paired with Joe Castiglione (or vice-versa, depending on your POV)

That's not to say there aren't some TV announcers I also enjoy. I've already mentioned Miller (though honestly, he's boomier and funnier on the radio). Hawk Harrelson, who's called games on TV for the White Sox for years, is practically a national treasure for his trademark home-run call alone, not to mention popularizing such phrases as "pick to click," "git up!" "git down!" and a personal favorite of mine, "Come on Timo!" Hawk is also an unabashed homer, a quality I don't like in announcers generally, and sometimes it seems 10 minutes will go by before he has anything to say about what's happening on the field. Come to think of it, I have no idea why I like him so much. But exceptions do prove the rule.

Steve Stone has always been one of my favorites. His ability to speak in complete paragraphs that sound like they've been written down on a 3-by-5 card and then memorized is an amazing skill he honed over the years working with Harry Caray. His droll humor and popularization of such obscure terms as "faceburger" (when a fielder tags a runner on the piehole) were only sharpened by working with Harry's grandson Chip. The fact that he and Chip were unjustly run out of Wrigley Field by an embattled manager for doing exactly what Harry had done for years — tell it like it is — only endeared him more to me.

This season Stoney was paired with Ed Farmer, a rat-a-tat-tat caller who tells you everything happening on the field in the bare minimum words, all the while carrying on a parallel conversation with his booth partner. The Farmer-Stone team has made for unexpectedly riveting radio. When I scan the Gameday Audio dial and there are a dozen games on at the same time, I always look for the White Sox on WSCR.

Denny Matthews, our Hall of Fame announcer, is an acquired taste that I haven't yet. But back to my original point — if Milton Bradley can go off on Ryan Lefebvre based on what he hears on the Royals telecasts, someone on the Rangers needs to put a shadow on him immediately. Who knows who he'll go off on next: A funeral director? Chuck Hagel? The team chaplain? David Archuleta?

Finally, on a sporting note:

The Buffalo Bisons had a Tim Russert Bobblehead Day in 2005. I know some of the coverage this weekend has verged on the hagiographical, but c'mon ... it wasn't Russert's fault he was so lovable. He had his own bobblehead day!

Comments

[James]

I know I might be in the minority on this but I watched the game that inspired Bradley to try and storm the booth and I believe Lefebvre went over the line. He and Frank White spent a good part of that broadcast picking on Milton Bradley.

I'm not saying there's any defense for Bradley attempting to "introduce himself" but I do think that it's disingenuous for Ryan to say that he meant to be praising Josh Hamilton and that Bradley took it the wrong way. They showed replays of Bradley celebrating the night before on the way to first base and criticized him for coming out late in that game. Frank White on more than one occassion pointed Bradley out as Lefebvre's "favorite player".

It was obvious at the time that Ryan has an ax to grind with Milton Bradley and I guess that's fine but he shouldn't get to immediately pretend as though he was totally professional in this situation and above criticism.

Just my two cents. I'm a long time Royals fine and I like Ryan's work and am a big fan of Frank White but I do think they were over the line.