My Harry Kalas Story

We've been cursed in many ways as Temple football fans and one of the biggest curses is living in a town with two of the best play-by-play men anywhere, Harry Kalas and Merrill Reese, and knowing our own play-by-play situation is just the opposite of that.

By Mike Gibson
On my way to the Cherry and White Day football game on Saturday, I'm going to take a little detour, head straight down I-95 and pay my respects to Harry Kalas.
I'm also going to take a detour away from Temple football in my post today and I think you'll understand.
We've been cursed in many ways as Temple football fans and one of the biggest curses is living in a town with two of the best play-by-play men anywhere, Harry Kalas and Merrill Reese, and knowing our own play-by-play situation is just the opposite of that. Harry and Merrill are among the best at what they do. We, unfortunately, have settled for the worst since Dave Sims left after the 1991 season.

My letter that appeared in the Daily News

Pipe down - and let Harry call it
Apr 21, 2004
ONE OF my great joys over the last 33 years as a Philadelphia sports fan is hearing Harry Kalas call a walk-off home run for the Fightin's.
Since I was outside most of Sunday, I didn't hear him call the Doug Glanville one live. So I rushed home, turned on the Channel 29 news and heard Sunday night sports guy Bill Vargas yell OVER the Kalas call.
Ugh.
Fortunately, I was able to channel hop over to John Clark for the 11:30 sports at Channel 10.
Clark set the situation up perfectly and let the pro, Harry the K, do the call.
One of Harry's best ever, with the inflection of each word rising in decibel level. Long fly ball . . . it's got a CHANCE - followed by the signature . . . IT'S OUTTA HERE!
Beautiful. Thanks, Harry, and thanks, John Clark.
Mike Gibson , Philadelphia

In Philadelphia, everywhere really, it's not necessary to say who Harry Kalas is.
Everybody knows.
When you reach Icon status with a capital I, everybody knows your name.
I got to know Harry as an acquaintance in the 1980s when my newspaper, The Doylestown Intelligencer, sent me down every other year to spend two weeks with the Phillies and tap out stories on an old Radio Shack TRS-80 Model 100 laptop.
Even though he was as an acquaintance, Harry always treated me as a friend and always remembered my name.
"I think it's great that Doylestown sends down a reporter," Harry told me.
Then, since Calkins Newspapers had a beat guy, I wouldn't cover a Phillies game until the editor cleared the budget for me to go to spring training.
That's why, one day when I showed up in the press box at the old Busch Stadium in St. Louis, Harry said in that distinctive baritone voice, "Mike, what are you doing here?"
I told him I was there with the Associated Press Sports Editors convention, as sports editor of the Intelligencer's then Montgomery County Record edition.
He then pulled a piece of paper from his jacket, asked me who the other Philadelphia-area sports editors there were and read our names and affiliations over the air.
I still have that VHS tape.
It's one of my most prized possessions.
Harry wasn't just that way to me.
He was that way with everybody.
Just a genuine, great person.
It's not often an Icon can be both iconic and genuine and a great guy.
There are a million Harry Kalas stories out there because he took the time to make them.