A Tribute to Skip Caray
Watching the Braves broadcast tonight, Joe Simpson reminded me that tonight is the one year anniversary of Skip Caray’s death. It seemed to be a fitting time to briefly talk about one of the announcers whose voices I associate so strongly with the Atlanta Braves.
Skip Caray was not always the most likeable personality to listen to on a broadcast. He was somewhat short-tempered, seemed to lose focus, and utilized an ascerbic wit that did not always translate to a television broadcast. That’s probably why I liked him so much.
Though I attempt to be neutral when posting/blogging online, in person, I’m a very sarcastic person. This can cause me a decent amount of discomfort around others as sarcasm is an acquired taste. There are many who find such “wit” to be mean-spirited or who simply do not get it at all. For those of us who utilize sarcasm, there’s nothing more frustrating than making such a comment and looking across to find a blank stare on the face of the person to whom the comment was addressed. It’s tough, and over time I find myself more selectively utilizing sarcasm depending on the audience I’m talking to.
Enter Skip Caray. There was something about Skip that made him fun to listen to. He had an opinion on just about everything, and if his co-announcer didn’t share the same opinion, he had no qualm telling them about it. In addition to that, he never backed off the sarcasm, and it did go over the average Braves listener on many an occasion. I was definitely a victim of his sense of humor. I can’t tell you how long it actually took me to realize that when he said: “And a nice catch was made by a fan from Macon” that he had no idea who that person was. Instead, I tended to wonder “how does he always know the person who caught the ball???” In his later years, Skip did seem to lose interest in the games at various points. He wasn’t a stats guy, and he wasn’t student of the history of the game. Instead, he was always Skip Caray, for better or worse.
Rather than rely upon the history or stats, Skip relied upon his own anecdotes from his time covering baseball. That is a quality which is much rarer than I ever appreciated when he passed away. However, he seemed to have an amazing memory for the stories which he experienced first hand, and he had a great ability to remember a story to go with a particular moment. It’s a skill that many of the older generation of broadcasters such as Skip and Vin Scully and Harry Kalas seemed to possess that has not translated as well to the current generation. The color analysts like Joe Morgan (sigh) attempt to recount anecdotes, but they lack the timing, delivery, and recognition of the relevance to make it worthwhile. Play-by-play broadcasters more and more seem to come from a “mold.” They’re smooth, they’re polished, and tend to know what the “right” (read: politically correct) thing to say is in a particular situation. Skip possessed none of those qualities.
Often rough around the edges and not afraid to speak to his mind, Caray was a joy to listen to that I miss dearly. I listen to the radio very little, and I listen to it even less now that the “Skip Caray Show” isn’t on. I can remember tuning into his show on the way home from work (generally while trapped on I-75) just to listen to him field questions from his audience. When Skip got a dumb question, or a question he’d answered a million times, or a question that just didn’t make sense, he didn’t refrain from venting his frustration. Be it a long sigh before answering or a short, curt response, Skip did not stray away from even letting his listeners know when they had crossed the line into idiocy. My Dad hated this quality about him….I loved it.
Not everyone can pull off what Skip Caray did. Many would just come off as jerks and be dismissed in a second. However, underlying his personality was a man who clearly loved baseball and invested himself in the team that he followed. He got criticized by those in his profession for being too biased towards “his” team, but that, to me, is the essence of what a hometown announcer should be. He rarely yelled or got excited, but at all times, he was Skip Caray.
On this one year anniversary of his death, I salute him for the unique and memorable individual that he was.
Toma(T)alkin' 