RIP Skip Caray
By Jimmie on Aug 4, 2008 in In Memoriam, The Great American Pastime
Anyone who was a baseball fan even a little bit will recognize the voice of Skip Caray, the man who announced Atlanta Braves games for over three decades. He passed away in his sleep on Sunday at the age of 68
I was first introduced to Caray when my parents got cable television back in the early 80s. Cable TV meant WTBS and the Braves games almost every night during the summer. I was never a great Braves fan, but I enjoyed listening to Caray and watching the National League games that I, a staunch Orioles fan nearly from birth, rarely saw otherwise. His love for the game and his team was obvious. His broadcasts were always fun to watch and impeccably professional. Due to his declining health, he had to cut back on his travel this year which reduced him to only calling home games. But he worked the last home game before the Braves went on a road trip, just a couple days before he died.
He was the middle of three generations of broadcasters until the death of his father Harry in 1998. One of his sons is a minor-league baseball broadcaster and another works on the Braves broadcast. Harry Caray is in the Hall of Fame for his legendary work at the voice of the Chicago Cubs. I think there should be a place there for Skip, too.
I also a video below the jump of what I consider his finest call, the game-winning hit that won Game 7 of the 1992 National League Championship Series.
Goosebumps for any baseball fan.
Sphere: Related ContentOther Posts of Interest:
Stumble it!
When someone like Skip Caray passes away, all we can do as mere bystanders is remember what role he played in our lives.
Every time I read or hear the words of his famous Sid Bream call I vividly remember watching that game with my Mom. My brother, four years my elder, had gone to bed because the Braves had fallen behind, but my Mom and I stayed up to watch it from my parents bedroom. Even as a 10-year old, I remember thinking the Braves’ fortunes were doomed when a relative unknown came to the plate—Francisco Cabrera. But then the unthinkable happened. Cabrera lined a single to left field and I leapt to my feet on my parents’ bed and plead with the painfully slow Sid Bream to score. More than that, I remember my Mom screaming right alongside me, refusing to go to sleep until I was done watching the game. Of course he did score, and the Braves were on their way to the World Series. But the tear is not about the Braves, it is about the time watching that game with my Mom.
Few memories from my childhood stand out as vividly as the one watching the Braves win the 1992 NLCS. That is what Skip Caray meant to me.
Chris Iafolla | Aug 4, 2008 | Reply