This is a new weekly column from Leitch. It has words, and pictures. It's called Ten Humans Of The Week. It might or might not work. But here it is.
Back in June 2002, I knew something had happened to Jack Buck when I woke up to his voice on my clock radio. Jack had been suffering from Parkinson's for a while, and he'd looked particularly frail the last time I'd seen him, during his 9/11 poem just days after the attacks.
New York radio was playing his call of Ozzie Smith's home run in the 1985 NLCS — the "Go Crazy, Folks!" home run off Tom Niedenfuer — and I knew that had to mean he was gone. In my remembrance of him later that day, I noted that I'd probably heard Jack Buck's voice more than any other human's voice on earth. I suspect that's still true, seven years later. It'll probably still be true 30 years from now.
I thought about that when Harry Kalas died yesterday, when Daulerio went through what I did seven years ago. (His remembrance was particularly well done.) It was sad, of course, to lose someone you've been attached to for so long, but with distance and time, you realize that you've lost something different than just a person: You've lost an attachment to something that will never, ever be mended, or even replicated.