Skip to main content

Farewell Bob Sheppard


Bob Sheppard died today at age 99. I'll do what I can to make this tribute brief and do justice to the man with my words. Although I never knew the man personally, Sheppard meant a lot to me. Many of my experiences that involve sports- and my lifelong fandom of both the Yankees and Giants involve the man. Blessed with a buttery voice and a gift for elocution, Sheppard delighted and amazed fans via his job as a public address announcer for both teams. As Reggie Jackson dubbed him "the voice of god", he was as ingrained in the soul of the fans like any mainstay of either franchise in his nearly sixty year career. Being a speech professor and a poet in his life away from sports, he had a calm, professional weight to his delivery as opposed to the carnival barker to style of today's' announcers. Many will remember him for his much loved line-up introductions for Yankees baseball. However, for me the resounding memory I will carry of him was his presence at nearly all of the Giants games I attended from 1980-2005. He was direct, concise and in the moment, but he always knew better than to overshadow the action with bloated theatrics. I can clearly hear him call out "Dorsett....spilled by Carson. Assisted by Taylor" just like it was yesterday. In my youthful dreams of entering the sports world I tried my hand at PA work in high school and I was a terrible failure at it. Sheppard's classy work was my inspiration and I'm glad I gave it a try. He may never have played a down or swung a bat, but Bob Sheppard was every bit a member of those teams he worked for; in as much as he embodied their enduring spirit. That spirit is a part of the dreams that make up the love every fan has for his favorite team. Every fan that ever heard his voice ascend from the rafters can attest to that as the truth. Farewell.  
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Feeling Kinda Patton

Charmed I'm sure...... Patton Oswalt is one of my favorite comedians and one of the smartest, funny people alive. His point blank sarcasm colors his observational humor in a twisted way which confounds some, but makes perfect sense to me. I have long been a fan and while his star is rising of late, it seems like he is only just now getting widely recognized as one of the better, more important humans among us. Most people know Patton from his stand up specials, from his role as Spence on The King of Queens on CBS and the Pixar animated movie Ratatouille . You may have also seen him on VH1's Best Week Ever (he was fired for making fun of Paris Hilton), Zoolander, Blade: Trinity , Reno 911 , The Comedians of Comedy tour, Blood Into Wine , Lewis Black's Root of All Evil show and some of Comedy Central's Roast of ... episodes. Patton has had a big impact on me through his stand up and through his brilliant albums Feeling Kinda Patton (United Musicians) Werewolves...
Post a Comment
Read more

DECEMBER 8TH WILL BE ROUGH, THE REST OF MY LIFE.....

As today draws to a close I am deep in reflection. Actually I have been since before midnight yesterday. December 8 th is date burned into the minds of many of my friends today. Just as December 7th- “the day that lives in infamy” (Pearl Harbor Day) did for my parents and their peers. It's a strange convergence that has been pointed out by many to be true. If you have already guessed at the topic of the tale, that's fine. The stories have been told and retold a lot today. I have my own spin on how these events affected me personally. "Nobody told me there'd be days like these..." Thirty years ago while coming home from the studio John Lennon was shot to death outside of his home in his adopted home of New York City. John once joked that THE BEATLES were “bigger than God” and his death sort of proved him right, sadly enough. You can argue all day and night if either he or Paul were more talented (I always preferred quiet ol' George Harrison mysel...
2 comments
Read more

SILENCED

When your #1 weapon has been taken away, what do you do? How do you cope? Like a knife that's been dulled. Sometimes no whetstone will aid it. I've no implement to strike with. The iron is cold and dead. Left alone in the vast quiet nothing of my mindseye. Alone and unattended. Jaws been flapping since I escaped the watery primordial ooze of The Cave. Ranting and rambling for anyone to hear for as long as I could remember. But primarily to please myself. My self. The ocean of uber consciousness crushes on. Flooding the shores of knowledge, inescapable tides rise. Drowning out the sands of reason. Nowhere to go with my thoughts, but deeper inside. Endless cycles of analysis. Paralysis. Ouroborus. Mostly by a design I am not equipped to fight. Perhaps if I listened more carefully to others I might hear more than the rumble of my heart, lips and lungs. My ego and intellect imprisoned by a virus. It's not sympathy I crave. Adulation is what I need to survive. But a soul o...
2 comments
Read more