It’s been talked about everywhere by now, but the fact remains that Vin Scully’s contract is up at the end of the year, and he’s leaving it up to his wife, Sandy, to decide whether or not he returns for his 60th season with the Dodgers. I and millions of other selfish Dodger fans, no doubt, are sending telepathic messages to Mrs. Scully imploring her to send her husband back to the booth for the 2009 season. Even though we’ve had the experience these last few years, it’s really hard to imagine turning on a Dodgers game without hearing the familiar voice of Vin Scully greeting us.
Let me start with this: I can’t say I blame Vin or his wife one bit if they decide he should hang it up after this season. He’s been with the Dodgers since 1950, and while it’s obvious he enjoys the job — he keeps coming back, after all — one has to assume it’s also been incredibly difficult. In that timespan, he’s lost his oldest son and his first wife, never mind all the traveling and the time away from home and the other stresses the job entails for everyone in it. He’s also 80 years old and it’s probably a safe assumption that he isn’t quite as healthy as he used to be, though we know his voice and his brain are in fine working order. So, again, if he were to leave us — and by “leave,” I mean the broadcast booth, since I don’t doubt for a second that the McCourts would continue to employ him in some capacity for as long as he likes — it’s hard to make a case that it isn’t the right decision.
As a Dodgers fan, though, I have to hope he does come back. Maybe he could work an even more limited schedule, like only doing home games (he currently does the games in every NL West city). I really just can’t imagine turning on a Dodgers game and not hearing him say, “Hi, everyone, and a very pleasant good evening to you, wherever you may be.” Thousands of miles away in Rhode Island, that simple statement from him every evening makes me feel all warm and fuzzy, and like part of the broadcast — it’s that statement that opens up what feels to the listeners like he’s talking specifically to you. And although there is an evil part of me that likes to make fun of his various quirks, like the annual re-telling of the Jack Wilson Story or the inexplicable humor he finds in announcing that “Hu’s on first,” I would be very upset if I had to go without it. I really would. That’s Dodger baseball. That’s Vin Scully.
And between the stories and the bad jokes, Vin is still calling baseball. He has the most impeccable timing — he’ll just be telling some story, “blah blah blah Jack Wilson blah blah blah Cincinnati, the pitch is a strike, two and one to Russell Martin, blah blah blah…” He’s also the master of continuity. I can’t count the number of times he’ll be telling a story and the player he’s talking about will do something. The play happens and Vin weaves it right into his play-by-play. I have no idea how he does that. The best part is that I never see it coming, so it usually surprises me so much that I start laughing. Every time. It’s just a sign of enjoying the broadcast, I think.
It’s a love of Vin Scully and a fear of change. The Dodgers’ other English-language broadcasters are obviously not in Vin’s league, but aside from guys like Harry Kalas and Bob Uecker, nobody is. The problem with the other guys is that they’re terrible. Remove Vin from the equation — from the times I’ve listened to them, they’re barely adequate on their own merits. I usually opt to listen to the Dodgers’ Spanish-language broadcasters instead. As a Spanish major, this is tantamount to homework, but I’d rather exercise my brain twofold with a Spanish broadcast than trying to decipher what the hell Rick Monday is talking about at any given moment. Jaime, Pepe, and Fernando at least make sense in Spanish; Monday makes no sense in English.
All that aside, this is about Vinny, not about the dreck that replaces Vinny. And I say he should do what he and Sandy feel he should do, because it’s less about me than it is about him, and I’d rather have a healthy and happy Vin Scully working off the air than no Vin Scully at all. But for this East Coast Dodgers fan, who can only experience the team one way, it’s all about Vin. He’ll do what he needs to do. But that doesn’t mean I won’t miss him. He is, ultimately, what made me a Dodgers fan, and I’ll be here when he’s gone, but part of me just doesn’t want to go through it by myself. And that’s what I’ll feel like if I don’t have Vinny talking baseball with me every night.
Vin Scully Awaits Wife’s Cue on Continuing Long Run [New York Times]
