The news came across during the 1st inning last night that Ernie Harwell, long-time Tigers announcer and Hall of Famer, had passed away at the age of 92.
Harwell was one of the last of the great old-time announcers (Vin Scully is still out there). If you ever heard Ernie do games on the radio consider yourself very lucky. I know I do.
I was first exposed to Harwell in 1988 when I went to college in Michigan. I didn’t know anything about the Tigers but soon learned to love listening to their games. Ernie could paint pictures with words like I had never heard before. Don’t get me wrong, I loved Bob Murphy and always will. But Ernie was different. While Murph would get excited, Ernie was always steady. Listening to him broadcast was comforting.
Following the 1990 season the Tigers announced that 1991 would be Harwell’s final season – essentially firing him. Fans were outraged.  On Opening Day 1991 a boycott and protest outside Tiger Stadium drew national attention. I was there, along with several hundred others. While it didn’t change the mind of then owner Tom Monaghan, when he sold the team 2 years later, the new owner brought Ernie back. And there he stayed until 2002 when he finally retired of his own will.
I met Ernie once. In 1992 he had been hired as a part-time announcer with the California Angels. On a trip back to Detroit several of us stayed long after the game was over to thank the man and let him know that he wasn’t forgotten. He was as friendly and as genuine an individual as you would ever meet – it was more like shaking hands with a church usher than a baseball announcer.
Harwell wrote and recorded several books on baseball. To listen to him tell stories and even recite poetry (his own on baseball) – well, let’s just say I highly recommend listening if you can get one of them.
One final note – Bob Costas interviewed Harwell late last year for the MLB Network. That interview will be shown today at 4 pm eastern. I think it was the last one he gave.
I leave you with this audio of his Hall of Fame speech on What Is Baseball. Pure poetry.
