About an hour before game time, I was asked to drop off something at the broadcast booth. It was 25 years ago, but Harry and Richie Ashburn already were local legends. I opened the door to the booth and I swear a glowing aura followed: Harry and Whitey . . . royalty to a 21-year-old baseball freak. When I handed each of them a note from the boss, Harry turned to me and asked, "Are you Joe?"
I must have looked like some starstruck 6-year-old at my first baseball game. I smiled and blubbered, "Yeah, I'm Joe . . . and I know who you guys are." They chuckled and Harry offered a "Nice ta meetchya, Joe."
And every time I saw Harry for the next two seasons, he'd flash that big grin and ask, "What's up, Joe?" Operative word "Joe." I even got comfortable enough to throw a few trivia questions at him. He was good. Only stumped him once . . . I forget the question, but it had something to do with Craig Swan's ERA.
He never big-timed anyone: security personnel, stadium employees, fans yelling from their seats. A particularly memorable moment happened between innings. Harry was walking through the press area and I'd missed a Mike Schmidt homer.
"Where'd he hit it, Harry?" I asked.
Imagine Harry at his best: "It went to leftfield and it was one of his high towwerring driiiives."
For that pinprick of time in my life, Harry Kalas - Hall of Fame voice of the Phillies - never forgot who I was. With the many tributes you'll be hearing, believe this above all else: He was a terrific guy. *
- Joe Berkery
