Outta Here

Harry Kalas, legendary voice of the Philadelphia Phillies for 44 years, has died at the age of 73, and I can’t imagine an obituary I have wanted to write less. The Hall of Famer was one of the last of a disappearing breed in an era of homogenized interchangeable announcers, and enjoyed the 8th-longest tenure as a play-by-play man with a single team. Coming to the Phillies in 1971 to replace Bill Campbell, another popular legend, after 5 years as the Houston Astros radio voice, he was not welcomed with open arms, but quickly formed an amazing rapport with Richie Ashburn that made broadcasts a treat and for many less than memorable games in so many lost seasons, they were the only reasons to tune in to the evening broadcasts. He was unabashedly enthusiastic about the Phillies, declaring, “Chase Utley, You are the Man,” after an amazing bit of base-running derring do, but never shied from criticizing when the home team botched yet another play. When an error set up a game-winning homer off Billy Wagner that put the nail in the Phils coffin in 2005, he wrapped up the inning, “All 3 runs were unearned, not that it matters.” Umpires weren’t immune, either, with “Right down the middle for a ball,” being a familiar call whether the Phillies were pitching or batting at the time. He emceed the opening and
closings of Veterans Stadium, the opening of Citizens Bank Park, the 1980 World Series parade, number retirement ceremonies for Mike Schmidt, Steve Carlton and Jim Bunning, called Schmidt’s 500th homer and sang High Hopes when the 1993 Phillies completed their improbable clinching of the National League pennant. He also emceed countless community and charity events, and never turned down a request for an autograph or to record an answering machine message to inform callers that someone was “Outta Here,” or had taken “A long drive.” Some will take solace in him reuniting with Richie Ashburn, his best friend and broadcast partner for almost 30 years before Ashburn’s passing in 1997, but I’ll remember him finally getting to broadcast the World Series clinching moment last fall after being denied by MLB in 1980, calling Matt Stairs’ game-winning homer in his last game, and in the last Phillies game I’ve attended this year, with the team collecting World Series rings for the second time in its history, some of the loudest cheers of the afternoon were for Harry throwing out the first pitch. For three generations of Phillies fans, Harry Kalas meant baseball, the Phillies and summer, and none of the three will ever be the same.