The Third Shift

hotfoot:

allikazoo:

Vin Scully announced today that he will be returning next year as the broadcaster for the Dodgers.

Personally, I was relieved he made this decision. The Dodgers are not my favorite team, but I’d say they are my number 3 team behind the Tigers and Rangers. I’ve gotten in the habit of curling up on the couch and half-watching, half-listening to the Dodgers if they’re at home or in the NL west so I can listen to Mr. Scully when I’m unable to sleep (if you know me, you know this is often). In my experience I wind up falling asleep much faster this way than when I just lay in bed, even if big plays are made in the game and  I get woken up a couple times.

After the passing of Ernie Harwell I watched the Dodgers several nights in a row seeking comfort, hoping for some stories about Ernie, as they were good friends. He did talk about Ernie a little, but before too long ended his off-topic commentary with his usual “Now let’s get back to this one…”. If only he knew how good it is for fans to hear him just be himself.

Enough personal stuff from me, though, I’d rather point out the obvious: Baseball needs Vin Scully. Most importantly, the Dodgers need him too.

(Photo: USA Today)

These words will forever be imprinted in my mind…

“So the winning run is at second base, with two outs, three and two to Mookie Wilson. (A) little roller up along first… behind the bag! It gets through Buckner! Here comes Knight, and the Mets win it!”

Then Scully does not say a word for three minutes, an eternity in television broadcasting, allowing the pictures to define the moment.

“If one picture is worth a thousand words, you have seen about a million words, but more than that, you have seen an absolutely bizarre finish to Game 6 of the 1986 World Series. The Mets are not only alive, they are well, and they will play the Red Sox in Game 7 tomorrow!

It almost brings me to tears.

Vin Scully is simply the greatest of all time.

I hate the Dodgers, which is awkward growing up in L.A., but I love Vin Scully and believe he is one of sport’s last true national treasures.

You learn something from listening to him call a game. In one game played in an obnoxious heat, Scully recited much of Noel Coward’s “Mad Dogs and Englishmen”, the Englishmen of the colonial times wearing suits and walking their dogs in awful tropical heat being baseball players who would play in 100 degree heat.

It’s good to have him stick around.