We put a lot of pressure on baseball commentators.
What would happen without them? We’d fall asleep. Who would we scream at? Who would we use as a culmination of everything wrong with baseball descriptions? Nobody. Possibly each other. Maybe a dog, if its around. So if nothing else, Joe Morgan and his colleagues have amassed a great quantity of dogs saved from alcohol-fueled outbursts. He’s a hero. You won’t find a chapter calculating “heroism” or “amount of dog-terror prevented” in Moneyball.
Joe Morgan stepped into the glossy dress shoes of commentating from the soiled cleats of a brilliant playing career. His number has been retired by the Reds. He earned his own nickname (“Little Joe”). He was part of a legendary championship team so iconic, they have been immortalized within the annals of WWE history.
So the world stuck a microphone in front of him, and suddenly, everybody hated him. Why? His baseless dismissal of new-era statistics? He’s an old man; all they do is wave an intolerant hand at new things. You think he doesn’t heat pennies in the oven and throw them at the paper boy? Sure, maybe he does. We have no idea. It’s a classic “old man thing,” so we can’t rule it out.
But that’s what happens when you get old. You can do whatever you want. Also, if you’re involved in sports you can do whatever you want, too–and Joe is both. He is culturally untouchable, and even if he did get busted for kicking his neighbors’ gladiolas to death, we’d see countless columns spring up saying “Sure, he’s tarnishing his legacy, but I choose to remember the Joe Morgan who was the NL MVP twice in a row.”
Not that old people aren’t capable of some pretty tremendous things anyway.
Baseball will be starting soon, as we’ve been assuring ourselves for months, and it will do so without Joe Morgan. ESPN did away with its Sunday Night Baseball crew, leaving Jon Miller to his precious Giants games and Morgan to be possibly walking around nude in the Reds’ locker room as their “special advisor to baseball operations,” in case anyone needs to be advised on how to operate, especially on a baseball.
And what are we to do, ESPN? Are you not going to come up with some Morgan-bot to fill the air, programmed to spew pre-recorded baseball sayings? This is the network that invented the K-Zone, that rectangle that tells us whether to yell at the umpire or not. The K-Zone, for gods sake.
Instead of that crazy thing I just said, ESPN has chosen to piece together a fresh new roster of some guys to fill in each of the three nights a week they will be showing Yankees, Red Sox, or Phillies games.
Sunday Night Baseball
Dan Shulman
What is “actuarial science”? Well, Dan’s got a degree in it, so whatever it is, it must provide the mental stability to withstand constant onslaughts of Dick Vitale-isms, as well as college athletes hurdling at him at full speed. “No serious injuries were reported,” though Vitale did shout the word “Charge!” about 45 times.
Orel Hershiser
If ESPN can really drag “The Bull Dog” away from the Poker tables, where he reportedly spends five days a week during the off season, then Orel will be the lone surviving member of the previous Sunday Night Baseball crew. Which he hopes will mean being ignored less.
Bobby Valentine
What the hell? Why is Bobby Valentine is having the most kick ass year. First, he’s voted “Citizen of the Year” in Stamford, CT. Then he’s elected Director of Public Safety, and shouldered an entire intersection’s well being at three in the morning. Then he became the first not-hot-twentysomething-girl to be a guest bartender at a popular restaurant called Toscana Ristorante. The restaurant was also voted “Business of the Year.” We should probably listen to anything Bobby has to say. He’s batting 1.000 in 2010.
Monday Night Baseball
Sean McDonough
… is the very definition of heart-shaped enthusiasm.
Aaron Boone
The fun with Aaron in the booth is waiting to see which part of the game they decide warrants a transition to footage of his home run against the Red Sox/main reason for being heard of.
Rick Sutcliffe
When they were counting out people to replace Ron Santo as the Cubs announcer, Rick’s name got mentioned first, by 87% of Chicago. Thankfully, ESPN saw the value in his casual tomfoolery and asked him to clear his motivational speaking schedule on Monday nights.
Wednesday Night Baseball
Dave O’Brien
Dave went to school for broadcasting, then he won some awards for broadcasting, then he broadcasted the Marlins right into their first ever World Series championship in 1997. And, he might as well do the same thing with ESPN, considering they refused to let him leave their warm embrace.
Nomar Garciaparra
If there’s one thing people said about Nomar’s throwing style, it was “off balance.” Fortunately, he maintains much steadier balance watching other people throw the ball. For instance, he survived an encounter with Virtual Cliff Lee, a version of Cliff Lee that is not harnessed by the limitations of the natural world.
So there it is; the lineup of voices we will grow to hate for some reason. Twitter will catch fire, living rooms will be torn apart, and unreasonable violent episodes will take place. In the end, small, irritating quirks will wear way our patience for one, some, or all of these guys. Because soon, it will be baseball season. And we’ve got to blame somebody.