The bolded is so true.It shouldn't ever be shocking when someone goes at 90, but Uecker was still active and good at his job. He was able to do his schtick without ever being over the top or annoying. Millar could really learn from him.
Was just going to post itHis HOF speech was HOF-worthy.
"So he handed me a lit stick of dynamite and said "Here, you fish for a while."his appearances on The Tonight Show with Johnny Carson.
Dynamite drop-in!Im sure Im not alone, but quoting lines like "dynamite drop in Monty, that broadcast school has really paid off" or "one run on, lets see, one hit..." was a staple of my youth. Thanks for the memories, both real and fictional.
I think both Bob and Norm would be fine with it. Two dudes with an excellent sense of humor and the ability to laugh at themselves.Norm Macdonald had a couple funny Uecker stories. Maybe not ones that you would tell on the day of his passing, but all in good fun.
Cannot tell you how many times I've said "He missed the tag!" when settling into nosebleeds.Dynamite drop-in!
In case you haven't noticed, and judging by the attendence, you haven't!
When this guy sneezes it looks like a party favor
One Goddamn Hit!
Juuuust a bit outside
Tried the corner and missed
Well excuse me for having an OPINION
All fucking staples. Legend.
1964 in Missouri?! That's amazing.Mr. Baseball holding hands with Bob Gibson in the 1964 Cardinals team picture. Gibson doesn't seem to mind:
View attachment 94811
Ball four....Ball eight....Low, and he walks the bases loaded on 12 straight pitches. How can these guys lay off pitches that close?Dynamite drop-in!
In case you haven't noticed, and judging by the attendence, you haven't!
When this guy sneezes it looks like a party favor
One Goddamn Hit!
Juuuust a bit outside
Tried the corner and missed
Well excuse me for having an OPINION
All fucking staples. Legend.
Man, I just went on Amazon hoping it would be available on Kindle, and it's completely out of print and only available as a used paperback for ~$80 on the internet.Of the very, very many trade paperback ballplayer autobiographies released in the '80s, his ("Catcher in the Wry") was the best by a mile. It's worth it just for the story of him shagging flies in the outfield before a freaking World Series game using a tuba borrowed from the local pep band (and then having to pay the band for the damage done to the tuba).
It's on the Internet Archive, if you log in with a free account.Man, I just went on Amazon hoping it would be available on Kindle, and it's completely out of print and only available as a used paperback for ~$80 on the internet.
Trying to borrow it from a library but many don't have it.
So how about that ****in' Artie Klein?!?!?!?Norm Macdonald had a couple funny Uecker stories. Maybe not ones that you would tell on the day of his passing, but all in good fun.
Can't believe I left off those two.Ball four....Ball eight....Low, and he walks the bases loaded on 12 straight pitches. How can these guys lay off pitches that close?
The post-game show is brought to you by...Christ, I can't find it. To hell with it.
Hayes is picked off! Personally, I think we got hosed on that call.
Awesome post, BN! Really really enjoyed it. Thank you.There are few who could make the game of baseball more joyous, more human, more vividly absurd than Bob Uecker. His was a career that danced on the edges of greatness, never quite stepping into the light of baseball legend but, in his own words, "tricking people year in and year out" into believing he belonged. And didn't he, though? In a way, few ever have.
Bob Uecker, Mr. Baseball, is gone. But oh, what a song he sang while he was here.
Uecker's playing days, from 1962 to 1967, were a symphony of comic missteps and improbable triumphs. A .200 career batting average, 14 home runs, and a defense that was better than you'd think for a man whose legend grew not from prowess but from an unparalleled ability to make mediocrity sing. "Anybody with ability can play in the big leagues," Uecker quipped. "But to be able to trick people year in and year out the way I did, I think that was a much greater feat."
Bob Uecker didn’t merely play baseball; he became the game’s court jester, its chief raconteur. He called his time as a backup catcher for the Milwaukee/Atlanta Braves, the St. Louis Cardinals, and the Philadelphia Phillies not in terms of hits and runs but in yarns spun about intentional walks from Sandy Koufax and narrowly avoiding rundowns against the Mets. His career highlight, he'd say with a twinkle, was walking with the bases loaded in an intersquad game to drive in a winning run.
Born in Milwaukee, Uecker’s ascent was anything but typical. Drafted out of high school and signing for a modest $3,000 with his hometown Braves, he worked his way up through the minors, hitting just enough to stay employed but, more importantly, talking his way into the hearts of everyone he met. When his playing career wound down, the Braves recognized a unique voice in Uecker, one that might not describe a game as much as embellish it, wrap it in laughter, and send it soaring into the stands.
And so he became a broadcaster, a comedian, an actor; forever “just a bit outside” the usual confines of a baseball man’s life. In the booth, he found his true calling, painting games with humor and humility, never shying from the fact that he was, as he often joked, “the man who made mediocrity famous.” His partnership with Johnny Carson on "The Tonight Show" and his beloved portrayal of Harry Doyle in "Major League" cemented his place not just in baseball lore but in American culture.
Uecker's commentary wasn’t merely entertaining; it was a reminder that baseball, in all its intricate glory, is still a game meant to be enjoyed. He brought levity to the labor, reminding us all that the space between home runs and strikeouts is filled with laughter and humanity.
In 2003, the Hall of Fame honored Uecker with the Ford C. Frick Award, a recognition of his profound influence on the broadcasting world. Ever the comedian, Uecker accepted with the same humor that had brought him there, reflecting on a career that, in many ways, defied the odds.
For those who grew up listening to Uecker, his voice was the sound of summer evenings, a familiar presence in the quiet moments of a game’s ebb and flow. He was the chuckle after a missed play, the wink after a bad call, the warm laugh that followed the crack of the bat. His legacy is not in the numbers or the records but in the joy he spread.
As we say goodbye to Bob Uecker, we remember that he didn't need to be a superstar to be a star. He was a man who lived just outside the lines, who made us laugh when we needed it most, and who, in his own words, was always proud to be in the front row of our hearts.
We can only imagine Bob’s reaction to the news when he finds out at the pearly gates: I never thought I’d be making a change to calling the Angels!
+1 Very well done and I also enjoyed it......RIP Mr. Baseball. Thank you for your contribution to this great game. You will be missed.Awesome post, BN! Really really enjoyed it. Thank you.
I don’t have quite the connection to Uek some here do. But, listening to some of those Norm and Artie stories sure helped me see why someone like Thom Brenneman may have felt sort of comfortable being the way he was in the booth. Guy represented a kind of bygone era.Norm Macdonald had a couple funny Uecker stories. Maybe not ones that you would tell on the day of his passing, but all in good fun.