Free Voices of Summer: Ranking Baseball's 101 All-Time Best Announcers by Curt Smith Page B

mikeman says, "Ground ball to the shortstop, who fields it and
throws to first." Whatever else he was, the Reds' 194265 Voice was not
ordinary: "The shortstop fielded it, threw to first, and the runner beat the
throw." Why: "accuracy!" he rasped. "As I speak to you, what happened a
moment ago is gone."
    Hoyt grew up in Brooklyn, pitched for Erasmus Hall High School, and in
1913 failed a Dodgers tryout. Next year pop drove to the Giants Manhattan
office. "I couldn't sign a contract," said Waite, 15, "but dad did to make it legal."
    Will Wedge coined the term "aristocrat of baseball." Hoyt first seemed a
commoner, making seven stops in the minor leagues. In 1918, the lefty finally
pitched an inning in the bigs. Later he studded a Lynn, Massachusetts,
semipro team, was signed by A.L. Boston, and joined A.L. NewYork in 1921.
    "The secret to success as a pitcher is getting a job with theYankees," Hoyt
said. The minstrel's son also composed, danced and sang at the Palace The-
ater.The road was more extempore. Once Waite trailed roommate Joe
Dugan to a church. "Hi, pal," said Hoyt, surprising him. What gave?
    "I've tried everything else," said Dugan, lighting a candle. "I thought
maybe with this I'll get some help with my hitting."

    "Then light one for me!" Hoyt said. "I'm pitching today."
    Dugan did. Waite was shelled. "What happened?" he asked. Joe looked
down. "Some bloody Protestant sneaked in and blew the candle out."
    Hoyt bounced to Detroit, A.L. Philadelphia, Brooklyn, the Polo Grounds,
Pittsburgh, and again Flatbush, where in the dialect of its borough a paper
screamed "Hert Hoite!" of an injury. In 1938, retiring, he signed with Brown
and Williamson Tobacco Company. "They put me on [WMCA New York]
`Grandstand and Bandstand.' I'd developed a name, and they thought I could
help sales."
    The 1939 Yankees began daily coverage. Sponsor Wheaties KO'd an
audition. "They didn't think ex-ballplayers had enough vocabulary to do a
decent job." Umpire George Moriarty knew better. "You're out of your
element," Waite told him, disputing a call. "You should be a traffic cop so
you could stand in the middle of the street with a badge on your chest
and insult people with impunity." Element? Impunity? From a jock? On the
field?
    Red Barber prized anyone who never split an infinitive. In 1940, he
named Waite Dodgers pre/post-game host/analyst. "He'd never (lone baseball, but I thought he would take to it [color] naturally." Hoyt did, wanting
more. By late 1941, WLW and WSAI Cincinnati aired the Reds. His agency,
William Morris, called WKRC. "They wanted baseball, too," he said, "and
were looking for play-by-play."
    John Gunther noted Cincinnati's "stately and also sleepy quality." Waite
was a night owl. The Rhineland closed after dark. "I didn't know if I'd like it,"
he confessed, "but found a happiness that I'd never known"-except that one
is the loneliest number. From 1946 to 1951, Hoyt announced by himself. "I
did everything, even Burger Beer ads," cadging plots and tales and Yankees
past and Reds present.
    "He had a million stories," said general manager Gabe Paul. "Cobb and
Speaker and Ruth-Hoyt ran with Babe before he stopped drinking." One
cited Ruth's 1948 death, of cancer. Hoyt and Dugan helped carry his coffin
from St. Patrick's. "Lord," moaned Joe, sweltering, "I'd give my right arm for
a beer."
    Murmured Waite: "So would the Babe."
    Hoyt would have given his left arm for a team. "Allen and Barber were good
news broadcasters." He smiled, vaguely. "I was a bad news broadcaster." Reds president Warren Giles once called him on the carpet. "Why can't you be
enthusiastic? Look at Bert Wilson. Why don't you cheer like him?"

    Hoyt flushed. "Why shouldn't Wilson cheer? The Cubs've got stars.
Last year ['45J won the pennant. But us! Your top hitter's a lousy .267!
Your best pitcher's won eight games! What is there to cheer?" Not much,
as it occurred.
    The fault was not Crosley Field's, leading