Part of my childhood just died.
The legendary voice of the Philadelphia Phillies, Harry Kalas, has died at the age of 73.
"We lost Harry today," David Montgomery, the team president, told the Philadelphia Inquirer. "We lost our voice."
According to reports, Mr. Kalas was found unconscious in the press box. You always knew that was where he was going to go. You half-expected it to be in the middle of a game.
As I choke back tears at work, I can't help but think of countless nights I sat in a corner of my den listening to Harry and Whitey call a game on the radio back in the mid-80s when my mom had gotten rid of PRISM.
It was an old single-tape deck, gray with one large black speaker that made up the majority of its front. I would fiddle with the long, extendable antenna and black dial to tune in 1210 AM, sitting on the orange shag just off the small kitchen.
I remember going to the "Vet," and using my father's binoculars, trying to find Harry in the press box, and being so excited when I saw him.
Players came and went.
But we always had Harry.
Today, Harry and Whitey are reunited in the great beyond and can finally share their thoughts about last season's championship run.
Hard to believe, Harry. We'll miss you.