I Saw It On The Radio

Getting older does have some advantages:

~ One beer does what four used to.

~ Pretty young girls once again whisper secrets in my ear (my grand-daughters).

~ I experienced the "Golden Age of Radio".

I was a young boy when television came on the scene. We got all of three channels when atmospheric conditions were right. To change channels, we turned the dial and then someone (guess who) had to go outside and turn the antenna in the direction of the signal.

The picture was grainy and distorted and, though we called it "black and white," it was more like "green and gray."

TV was a novelty at first, and captured our attention for a time. But I remember many nights when Grandpa would turn off the set and invite me to his lap to listen to "The Shadow" or "The Lone Ranger" on his old Emerson.

My own imagination, combined with a good storybook or radio program, was enough to fuel my mind for hours.

As I got a little older, the athletic bent in me emerged and I developed an interest in not only competing in sports, but in spectating. The spectating part was problematic, as we lived in a location far removed from my favorite teams. Televised sports coverage in those days was limited to maybe two events per weekend.

With my trusty radio, I spent many a night tuned in to the familiar play-by-play voices of my favorite teams. There was Bob Fouts (yes, that's Dan's dad) on KSFO who did the 49er games...and Lon Simmons with Russ Hodges who called the Giants games after they came over from the East.

Closer to home, I could pull in a Portland station with Darrell Aune (holy jumpin' up-and-down Martha) doing the Oregon State basketball games.

All these guys understood their unique position as stand-ins for the listener's five senses. They could draw the audience right in beside them—there in the booth.

I began to really admire the play-by-play announcer for his ability to describe not only the game but the very atmosphere, the tension, the drama of the moment. I could almost smell the popcorn.

After the Portland Trailblazers entered the NBA in 1970, I followed their games on our local station. Eventually "The Schonz" Bill Schonely was calling the action.

Occasionally, I would make the drive to Portland to watch a game live. And television by then was entering the cable era, which improved sports coverage in general. Still, there was a soft spot in my heart for radio.

I listened to Schonely's call of game six in 1977 (the Championship game) in its entirety, refusing to watch on TV. It was a classic call and he went on to become a radio legend.

To this day, I almost prefer hearing a good radio crew to watching live on television. With instant replay and top-10 highlight countdowns, I don't really miss much.

Mike Parker, who succeeded Aune at OSU, is a modern icon I listen to regularly. His calls of the Beaver baseball team's back-to-back title runs in the College World Series were eye-watering.

And of course, Brian Wheeler and Antonio Harvey, the current Blazer broadcast crew, have really grown on me.

I must mention another veteran play-by-play guy I went to school with. His name was Jerry Smith. You may know him as Jerry Allen, the voice of the Ducks.

These guys, as with all great broadcasters, have that special ability to create a visual masterpiece without themselves becoming bigger than the event they're covering.

With today's satellite and inter-net technology, we have access to sports anytime, anyplace. The telephoto slo-mo camera lets us count the pores on the cheek of our favorite athlete.

Sometimes I think we have too much information. Nothing is left to the imagination. I'd rather have a few well-chosen descriptors splashing color on the canvas of my mind.

Nothing beats being there in person. Because of the distance, I only have two dates at the Rose Garden this season.

I'll catch a few games on the tube.

But most game nights you'll find me firing up the CC radio, kicking back with a hot drink, letting a radio artist paint me a picture...