My parents wouldn't shell out for cable when I was a child. I was 19 years old and just about to depart for two years of missionary service in the Philippines before cable/satellite television arrived in the Quinn house. It has been a fixture ever since.
Throughout my childhood I heard tales of the magical world of ESPN and Nickelodeon. I scheduled visits to my grandparents house in Baltimore to coincide with cable-televised sporting events. I made periodic Ralph Parker-esque hints at craving cable TV, but, little progress was made on that front.
Sometime in the summer after 6th grade, my parents shelled out for a truly legendary roof antenna to expand the range of TV stations we could pull in. This was the queen mother of antennas. No station in the Baltimore, Western Maryland, DC, or southern PA viewing region was beyond our reach. Much to my mothers chagrin I could watch the Simpsons for two solid hours every weeknight thanks to its staggered airings on the various FOX stations we hauled in. Sundays brought 3 different markets worth of football games. If the game on the Baltimore stations was a blowout, no worries, there were always the PA and DC options. Not bad. Same deal for the FOX Saturday Baseball game of the week.
In addition to the perks mentioned above, our magnificent antenna empowered me to watch occasional Phillies broadcasts on Channel 15, a UPN station which broadcast from somewhere in the area of York/Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. It was then that I was introduced to the unforgettable voice of Phillies' play-by-play man Harry Kalas. His voice was unlike any i had ever heard. His style, his phrasing, and, most of all, his unique cadence, made those occasional games a great treat. I have a clear memory of rushing home from church one summer Sunday when I was about 13, bursting through the door and heading straight for our downstairs living room to check for a Phillies broadcast on Channel 15. The unmistakable voice describing the action, the quirks of National League games, and the players who prior to interleague play I had only seen on baseball cards turned a simple Phillies broadcast into a special occasion for my ESPN-deprived adolescent self. When inter-league play was introduced in 1997, I remember opting to watch an Orioles-Phillies contest on the Phillies network rather than on the Baltimore station because of my fascination with Harry Kalas' unique voice.
Sure. In the Baltimore of my boyhood I was blessed to enjoy the stylings of Jon Miller every night on the radio, the Hall-of-Fame voice of Chuck Thompson on Sundays, the memorable insights and hopeless pronunciation blunders of Brooks Robinson, and the competent narrations of Joe Angel and Fred Manfra. (No need to belabor the point about Manfra, he was an acquired taste. For his first two seasons a the mic, he used the term "bounding ball" to describe anything hit on the ground no matter how rapidly the ball was traveling). But, Harry Kalas left a distinct impression on my young mind. I must give him at least some of the credit for my sustained interest in watching baseball, even through the turbulent early teenage years.
He, and his unforgettable voice, will be missed.
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