The Yankees honored John Sterling the other night, commemorating 25 years of service as their radio play-by-play man, and here are two of the things that stuck and struck the largest as the team gave him a European vacation on the arm in lieu of a gold watch for his wrist:
1. Those fans who’d already settled into their seats delivered a very warm, very sincere ovation.
2. The two Yankees who helped with the presentation — Curtis Granderson and Robinson Cano — were just as warm, just as sincere, and seemed just as happy to be part of the festivities as Sterling himself.
These reveal two important truths about why Sterling has had such staying power behind what he’s often described to me as “the best microphone in sports.” Start with the players — or, more familiarly, “Grandy Man” and “Robbie Cano … a-doncha-know?!” from their Sterling home run calls — representing close to two generations’ worth of Yankees who have grow so obviously fond of Sterling.
You may shrug at this — even for those of us who like Sterling, it’s not like he’s ever going to go Mike Wallace on a struggling player — but in 2013, for any athlete to feel anything — hot, cold, anger, affection — for anyone in the media gives you an idea of what Sterling means to the Yankees, embodied by the fact that vets who know things always wonder aloud when they arrive how Sterling will memorialize their blasts.
The other?
Look, there is a definite polarizing force behind Sterling, and even he acknowledges that. There are some — and this would include just about every listener not inclined to root for the Yankees — who are, to be kind, not fans. And there even some Yankees fans for whom Sterling’s style — and it is a “style,” not a “shtick,” not an “act,” not a role — simply is not their cup of tea.
But there are a lot of Yankees fans — a lot — who only know Sterling as the Voice of the team, who can give you their 10 favorite Sterling calls (and, sure, maybe their five favorite Sterling slip-ups) on demand. They grew up with Sterling, who lent voice to their burgeoning baseball passions, who get a kick out of him. And since when is it against the law for baseball to maintain any residue of fun?
All you need to know about how Sterling affects the masses is this: At game’s end, when the Yankees win, and Sterling bellows, “Thuuuuuuuuuhhhh YANKEES! WIN!!!!” as he has, with increasing fervor, since the ’96 playoffs, those who detest the Yankees — still a sizable crew, even within the city limits — want to stab pencils in their ears. And those who love them, whose days still are defined by them, invariably, involuntarily find themselves saying: “Thuuuuuuuuuhhhh YANKEES! WIN!!!!”
Even if they aren’t listening to the radio.
It was a tough week for Sterling. He botched a play in Toronto on an Alex Rodriguez fly ball that he thought had cleared the wall but died in an outfielder’s glove, and whenever that happens there is great glee among the pundits and the haters. Fair enough: You do public job so publicly, that’s part of the deal.
But Sterling does tend to inspire vitriol far beyond what seems rational. The great Ernie Harwell — it’s against the law anywhere in the contiguous 48 not to say “the great” before his name — used to tag all his home runs “loooooong gone!” even if they cleared the fence by a whisker, and Harry Caray used to plead “It might be! It could be!” even if it was clear a ball was heading for someone’s front yard beyond Wrigley.
Even Bob Murphy — whom I can best describe as “my Sterling,” the voice I grew up with — would almost always say of a home run — on the radio — “Let’s watch!”
Those were styles — not shticks, not acts — and it’s a style rapidly fading from view. You don’t have to like Sterling’s. But you have to admit this: You think of the Yankees, better or worse, there’s only one voice attached. That says something.
VAC’S WHACKS
There isn’t a team in baseball — and that starts with the one that plays its games in Queens — that shouldn’t look at what the Red Sox have done this year — especially given what the Red Sox did last year — and ask: Why can’t that be us?
I almost feel like I’ve been falling down on the job by waiting so long to start devouring “Orange Is the New Black” on Netflix. Please, please, please: Don’t make the same mistake.-
I will study this and ponder this and torture myself over this in the weeks and months and years to come, and I could well change my mind 473 times, but as of right now, when it comes to the Hall of Fame, water pistol to my head, I say: Mike Mussina yes, Andy Pettitte no.
All this talk about teacher and student, master and pupil, mentor and protégé between Rex Ryan and Mike Pettine … has anyone noticed that a forgotten man of the Jets’ defensive staff the past few years, Bob Sutton, has the Chiefs playing defense like they haven’t seen in Kansas City since Derrick Thomas and Neil Smith were roaming free?
WHACK BACK AT VAC
Bob Buscavage: So once again Andy Favre — or is it Brett Pettitte? — has announced his retirement?
Vac: Two things: 1) Brett Pettitte has the better ring to it; 2) if I was a pro athlete, they’d have to get a crane and a forklift to get me off the field. I understand.
Steven Schafler: In terms of the Matt Harvey situation of rehabbing instead of surgery, logically it seems like a good plan. Being that it involves the Mets, it has backfire written all over it.
Vac: There ought to be some kind of class-action suit Mets fans can file for citing the past couple of years, no?
@rockosmodurnlif: So if they rename River Avenue after Mariano, what’s Jeter going to get named after him?
@MikeVacc: Do you think “The Bronx” has run its course?
Bob Andreocci: I am sure the Wilpons will get the same treatment as the De Roulets got toward the end of their ownership tenure. Let’s hope we can forget the Wilpon era just like we, as Mets fans, forgot the De Roulet era.
Vac: Amazing to remember the name of one of the saviors of that dark Mets time: Fred Wilpon.