Scribbled notes on a cocktail napkin, Part XI
Fish tales and word plays … home run descriptions and accuracy challenges … the woman whose first kiss was Elvis Presley and more Sunday links …
"Scribbled notes on a cocktail napkin" is my weekly Sunday feature that's a tribute to the sports columnists I grew up reading who penned Herb Caen-inspired three dot columns. It's an excuse to shamelessly plug my other side projects, post my favorite Immaculate Grid from the week with a story about one of the players, link to stories I found interesting, and string together loose topics on my mind.
A new Albuquerque Isotopes season is underway, which means for the next six months, I’ll spend a considerable amount of brain power trying to think of different ways of saying the same thing.
How many different ways can you describe a groundball to the shortstop? Trust me, I’ve thought about it. I’ve made a list of all the different words that can be used to describe various things on a baseball broadcast.
I won’t bore you with the entire list, but here are my entries to describe a throw: zips, wings, fires, flips, lobs, shovels, rockets, unleashes, chucks, heaves, slings, launches, hurls, tosses, whips, delivers, uncorks.
Jesse Goldberg-Strassler is my friend and co-host for the “Crafting the Call” YouTube series about the art of baseball play-by-play announcing. (Here’s a link. Subscribe, share and like!) Jesse also literally wrote a book called the Baseball Thesaurus. (Here’s a link to buy a copy!)
A fellow linguist, Jesse contributed the following history of the word “dinger” to describe a home run for my Substack.
Dinger
It’s one of the best slang terms for a home run, inspiring the name for the Colorado Rockies’ Triceratops mascot. So where did it come from?
The Dickson Baseball Dictionary quotes Phil Pepe from Baseball Digest in 1974 explaining that dingers are home runs because they are “blasts that ring a bell,” but Dickson himself credits the etymology to “Probably from ‘humdinger,’ an action of remarkable excellence.”
Ah, but humdinger was invented, wrote Ben Zimmer for Visual Thesaurus, as a 19th century portmanteau. ‘Hummer’ was slang praise developed from describing something that hummed speedily right along. ‘Dinger’ was slang praise developed from describing something striking.
Put them together, and the word spoke for itself, the perfect way at the turn of the century to heap hyperbole onto an event, an act, or whatever the salesman was ready to pitch to you.
So a dinger became a humdinger became a dinger once more, and that’s a roundtrip tour.
“That ball is OUTTA here”
It’s nearly impossible to fact-check these things and we’re in the Wikipedia-ization of human knowledge. But the baseball and broadcasting worlds have generally accepted as fact that Harry Kalas invented “OUTTA here” to describe a home run.
But that was not always Kalas’ home run call. Before he was a Phillies legend, Kalas broadcasted for the Houston Astros, and his home run call was, “That ball is in Astros orbit.” Here’s an example.
Kalas developed the “OUTTA here” description, based on chatter at the batting cage one day.
As a guest on ESPN's Sunday Night Baseball on July 15, 2007, Kalas recounted that his famous "outta here" call originated in the mid-1970s. While standing around the batting cage during batting practice, he saw Phillies slugger Greg Luzinski hit a ball into the upper deck, to which Philly shortstop Larry Bowa reacted with the words, "Wow! That's way outta here." Kalas said that it had a nice "unique ring to it and has been using it ever since".
Nowadays, it’s one of the more ubiquitous baseball phrases. I’ve heard it countless times, and have used it for years, never even considering who said it first. It was Harry.
This week’s “Where Ya At?” podcast guest: Jon Gold
I host a podcast for San Diego State’s School of Journalism and Media Studies titled “Where Ya At?” Each week, I interview an alum to learn about their experience at SDSU, transitioning from student to professional, and their current job. You can listen on all podcast platforms, including Apple Music.
Jon Gold is an award-winning journalist with two dozen years of experience as a beat writer, column, and takeout features writer. These days, he’s the Brand Editorial Manager for Collectors, and the Senior Editor for PSA Magazine & Pop Culture. Jon’s hosted podcasts, YouTube shows, and his byline has appeared in Playboy, Billboard, ESPN.com, New York Times and dozens more.
I’ve never met Jon in person -- we recorded the podcast over Zoom — but he feels like my spiritual cousin because we have so much in common. Jon started at The Daily Aztec as a freshman, about a decade after me, and gets emotional discussing what the student newspaper meant to his career, not to mention the lifelong friends he made.
Last year at the Final Four, Jon paid it forward by taking the current Daily Aztec sports staff to lunch. On press row, the student journalists, Jon, and Ed Graney posed for a photo that connected 37 years of Daily Aztec legacy.
This was one of the best “Where Ya At?” podcasts I’ve recorded. Jon gave us the “story behind the story” of Elvis Presley going into the military at the peak of his fame, how Jon even got the story idea, the German girl whose first kiss was Elvis, and interviewing her current husband.
It's priceless storytelling. Here’s a link to Jon’s full article about Elvis.
This week’s not-so random Immaculate Grid story: Steve Trout
It’s the second game of the season in 1988. I’m 15 years old, trying to get home runs balls during batting practice at the Coliseum, probably mumbling some terrible practice play-by-play to myself. I’m all alone in the last section of the left-centerfield bleachers, when I notice Seattle Mariners pitcher Steve Trout can’t find anybody to play catch with him.
Trout looks at me and says, “hey, wanna play catch?” I tell him sure. [I swear this is not a fish tale.]
We played catch for about five minutes. It really showcased Trout’s accuracy. From flat ground, he had to throw over a fence, judge the gap to the seats, get it above the stairs, and over the railing, from a distance of around 40-50 feet. If he throws it too low, I’d probably go tumbling over the railing trying to catch it. Too high, I’m leaping backward into seats and in more danger of getting injured.
I’m proud to say that I caught all of Trout’s throws. His precision was remarkable. Also proud that I never made him chase after an errant throw of mine either.
About halfway through our game of catch, other fans in the bleachers kept yelling, “keep the ball! Don’t throw it back!” But I kept playing catch. It was fun. The dude needed to warmup his arm. Respect the game, right?
Once Trout was done, he told me to keep the ball. It was one of those moments that, nowadays, half a dozen people would pull out their phones to video. Maybe it would go semi-viral on social media. I have zero pictures or videos of it, just a special memory seared in my brain that I’ll always treasure.
Trout started the next game. Even though he was facing the A’s, my favorite team, I was hoping my “catch partner” would pitch well. It was a day game. A rare time that I did not cut high school to attend a game in person. I watched the highlights after getting home from school and felt bad for the guy.
This was Trout’s line: 0.2 IP, 0 H, 4 R, 4 ER, 5 BB, 0 K, 2 WP.
It still blows my mind that Trout could have pinpoint accuracy throwing uphill to me in the stands, then be completely unable to find the strike zone the next day. Six days later, Trout pitched 5 1/3 innings with zero walks.
Baseball, man, the ultimate mind puzzler.
You can TELL IT goodbye
My top two broadcasting idols were Bill King and Lon Simmons. They were the primary A’s announcers in the 1980s. Bill also called Raiders and Warriors games. Lon became an institution for his work with the Giants, which was before my time, but I recall him on the mic for the 49ers back-to-back Super Bowls.
I don’t have a dedicated home run call that I use every time. This is my philosophy why:
All the good ones are already taken.
If Vin Scully didn’t have a home run call, I don’t need one.
I don’t want to force a call that is hokey.
I always figured something would happen organically, like Harry Kalas hearing something Larry Bowa said.
Plus, I don’t want to misjudge a flyball and prematurely start a home run call, then look like a fool when the ball is off the wall … or caught.
But that has started to change. Early in the 2015 baseball season, Lon Simmons passed away at the age of 91. (Seriously, ninety-one!) In my first broadcast afterward, I wanted to pay tribute to Lon’s signature home run: “you can tell it goodbye.”
I used it that night and probably struggled with the proper delivery. The meaning is different if you emphasize different words. Think about it:
YOU can tell it goodbye
you CAN tell it goodbye
you can TELL IT goodbye
you can tell it GOODBYE
Lon often said, “Way Back, WAY BACK” first, and sometimes omitted “you can.” Here is Lon’s description of Willie Mays’ 600th career home run.
I’ve practiced all the versions of it and putting my twist on it. My preference is emphasizing TELL IT because it fits my voice better, that’s how Lon usually said it, and it’s slightly unorthodox because a high majority of home run calls emphasize the final word.
I don’t always say, “you can TELL IT goodbye” on home runs, but it’s evolved into my primary description. I like it because very few people in Albuquerque know that I’m blatantly stealing it from Lon. If I was in the Bay Area, I’m sure thousands would immediately accuse me of theft. (I still insist it’s a tribute to one of my idols.)
I try to save it for dramatic home runs, milestone home runs, or those that are no-doubt home runs where I can take my time to get the words just right.
Here is my call of Jordan Beck’s first Triple-A home run on Opening Night, using Lon’s trademark description.
I hope Lon doesn’t mind.