I never knew a Phillies baseball game without Harry Kalas.
From the time I started watching Phillies games with my former brother-in-law in the early 70’s to really following the Phillies in the 1975 season, Harry was there. From the lazy Sunday afternoons watching the Phillies win their first National League East title in 1976, then again in 1977 and 1978, Harry was there. From that final 1980 weekend in Montreal that launched the Phillies to NLCS and World Series victories, Harry was there. Throughout the 80’s and early 90’s I used to sit right under the broadcast booth in section 232, row 13 at the old Veteran’s Stadium, and throughout the game – especially the 7th inning stretch – I’d look up and Harry was there. Even now as I write this, I’m getting goosebumps when I remember hearing “swing and a long drive, to deep center field, going back, this ball is outta’ here, home run, Michael Jack Schmidt…” I am very fortunate to have had the opportunity to watch Phillies baseball during their truly halcyon days, to witness the Hall of Fame careers of Schmidt, and Steve Carlton; to have the opportunity to watch both of them inducted into the shrine in Cooperstown that is the Baseball Hall of Fame, alongside Richie Ashburn – Harry was there, too. When Richie passed away, suddenly, and on the road, in 1997, I felt that Phillies broadcasts would never be the same, but the one constant that remained was Harry Kalas.
Harry Kalas passed away earlier today, suddenly and on the road, in the broadcast booth preparing for the Phillies vs. the Washington Nationals home opener.
From the time that I was 9 years old, I have never known a Phillies baseball game without Harry Kalas. Today was the first day of the rest of my life without Harry Kalas in the broadcast booth, and now I know for sure, Phillies baseball will never, ever, be the same.