Holy Cow! A Tribute to Phil Rizzuto

Today’s baseball announcers seem to take great pride in their ability to inundate the viewer with wave after wave of statistical minutia.

In addition to batting averages, RBI’s and strike outs, we have OSP’s, WHIP’, Total Bases against pitchers in your own division, Strike Out to Walk Ratios against hitters whose name end in a “z”, winning percentages in the afternoon after a national holiday, and so on.

As my eyes glaze over my mind starts to wonder back to the days of my youth and to the  announcer who’s voice I first associated with watching or listening to Yankee game, the Scooter, Phil Rizzuto.

Phil was an MVP, a shortstop for those great Yankee teams of the 40’s and 50’s, a team mate of DiMaggio, Mantle, Berra, among others and an eventual Hall of Famer,  but by the time I was aware of him, his nasal tones were the back drop to every Yankee broadcast.

Listening to Phil call a game was like going to the ballpark with a quirky but knowledgeable uncle. Sure he could tell you what was going on, but he did more from his considerable experience and seldom quoted anything more statistical than from which side of the plate a batter hit.

His broadcasts were more like stream of consciousness conversations than analytic breakdowns, punctuated by a Holy Cow anytime anything of note would happen, or the word “huckleberry”  as in “ Messer, you Huckleberry, where’s my scorecard”.

Phil grew up in Brooklyn, where people used far more colorful terms to express mild annoyance, though now that I think of it “huckleberry” was probably all you could get away with on the air in those days.

He was famous for weaving personal information into his telecast, usually in the form of congratulating a friend on some personal mile stone or in commenting on his latest favorite Italian restaurant.

Typical calls would go something like this:

“Palmer comes to belt, he’s set, here’s the pitch...Murcer lines a bullet to deep center field over Blair’s head, scoring Clarke. Holy Cow!...now would be a good time to wish Gina and Tony Giordano all the best on their 20th anniversary.”

Or like this:

...”while we’re waiting for Lyle to finish his warm-up, I had the best spaghetti Bolognese  last night at Villa Roma in Sysoset, man o’ man, and great cannoli’s too, with a little espresso...”

In those post dynasty, pre-Steinbrenner days, the Yanks were pretty bad, oft times Phil was the most interesting part of the game. He never forgot that IT WAS A GAME! People listened to be entertained, to relax, not to hear a statistical analysis of a ground out to first.

In a way all those good wishes and informal restaurant reviews reminded you that there was a world outside of baseball, that the game, no matter how exciting, important, or even dreadful, wasn’t the end of the world.

He later solidified his status as a pop culture icon by doing a mock broadcast that was featured on “Paradise by the Dashboard Light” one of the hi songs from Meat Loafs “Bat Out of Hell” album.

The song used the play-by-play call as a metaphor for what teenagers usually do in the back seat. Phil later said he got into hot water with the nuns (nuns?) and had no knowledge of what his voice over would be used for. but he was always dumb like a fox, that huckleberry.

I was lucky enough to meet Phil once. I was art directing a photographer’s shoot at an upscale restaurant in New Jersey. I look up as we were setting up for a shot and  in walks the Scooter himself. This particular restaurant did not do take out, but Phil was a regular and a celebrity, so he ordered two dinners to go, sat at the bar and waited for them to prepare and wrap up his meal.

Not believing my luck, I walked over and introduced myself and we chatted for nearly 15 minutes about baseball (it was during the 1998 World Series), Dimaggio and the photo shoot (actually seemed interested). He autographed a business card for me, “Holy Cow (what else, he muttered) Phil Rizzuto, HOF (Hall of Fame)

A waiter came out of the kitchen with two shopping bags full of gourmet goodies, and carried them to the car. The former All Star, MVP, broadcaster, recording star and local legend said good bye, wished me luck and followed his dinner out the door.