The sound of Philadelphia silenced

IT DIDN'T MATTER what Harry Kalas was saying. When we heard him doing play-by-play or announcing a TV commercial, Philadelphians immediately recognized his voice - and thought of home.

Even though he had a significant national voiceprint - as the announcer of NFL Films and Campbell Soup commercials - Kalas was truly the Sound of Philadelphia. His unexpected death yesterday leaves Philadelphians feeling bereft, but also flooded with the sort of memories that unite a community.

Few connections are more intimate than the one between baseball fans and their favorite lead announcer. Over 39 seasons, that connection grew.

Harry the K's voice wafted through screen windows on summer nights, a soundtrack shared in rowhouses and suburban tracts and ex-urban McMansions with little else in common but their love of the Phillies. It accompanied us on road trips, and served as a lullaby for young fans listening in the dark.

With his longtime broadcasting partner Richie Ashburn - who died in 1997, ironically also while on the road with the team - Kalas developed trademark phrases that bonded us together, whether it was Ashburn's "Hard to believe, Harry," or Kalas' "That ball is outta here!"

If you recognize it, no explanation was necessary; if you didn't, no explanation was possible.

Kalas found the "sweet spot" of calling games for the home team: You knew that he wanted the Phillies to win, but he still called out bonehead plays and questionable managerial decisions, while providing "inside baseball" commentary that was on target and accessible. Which is one reason why Kalas was voted into baseball's Hall of Fame in 2002.

Kalas announced Phillies games in good times and in mediocre times, in bad times and really bad times - for example, the 1972 season, one of the team's worst ever. Through it all, he remained a favorite of Philadelphia's notoriously critical fans. And therein lies a tale.

Kalas was one of the few people to have been with the team for both of its world championships - in 1980 and last fall. But in 1980, TV network agreements prevented local announcers from calling the World Series games. Even though thousands of fans signed a petition pleading for an exception, NBC refused.

Kalas and the rest of the Phillies' announcers did a re-creation broadcast of the game: " . . . All of the fans are on their feet. This city has come together behind a baseball team! Phillies are world champions! This city knows it! This city loves it!"

The next year, in large part because of the Phillies fans' love for their announcers, Major League Baseball amended its broadcast contracts.

So it's bittersweet to the max that, in his last months, Harry Kalas realized his dream to call the final inning of a Phillies world championship - for real. And we realized a dream as well - to hear him do it.

As ESPN analyst John Kruk - a member of the 1993 National League championship team - said yesterday, "He was the Phillies." For two generations of Philadelphia fans, Harry Kalas not only was the Phillies, he was the essence of home. *