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Telling the Story of the Game

By Beacon Staff

I have been doing this radio gig for the University of Montana for a while now and I’d like to think my play-by-play skills continue to evolve and I’m confident that my game perspective has improved.

After 25 years and more than 800 college games, I’ve seen a myriad coaching styles and decisions made that have resulted in UM teams winning about 80 percent of the games that I have broadcast.

So no matter the odds, or the deficit, or the amount of time remaining, I suppose I sound fairly confident that the “good guys or girls for that matter” eventually will prevail.

“Got ‘em right where we want ‘em” and “no hill for a climber” and “here come the Grizzlies” are staples of my comeback language, which last year was severely tested in the South Dakota State football game and the Weber State basketball matchup.

I’m mostly a glass-half-full kind of guy and truly relish my role of cheerleader, one I assumed more hardily after basketball coach Blaine Taylor once pulled me aside and basically demanded I quit being “so damn objective.”

There are those that criticize or dislike my style, but it is what is and I make no apologies for being what other school’s fans call a “homer.”

Being a journalist and the play-by-play guy has caused its share of conflicts over the years – sometimes it is quite a balancing act – and I readily admit since my retirement as a full-time newspaper staffer I have drifted even more into the role of team advocate.

But something that never has changed about my play-by-play is how I feel about the game’s officials. And, while I agree fans certainly are entitled to jeer, although I detest the booing of opponents when they arrive and the personalization of comments toward college players, I refuse to buy into the notion that it is worthwhile or any part of my job to analyze every call, then decide whether it was the correct decision, then belabor the situation to the point that the game’s descriptions fall by the wayside.

With the proliferation of games on the tube and the amount of analysis being provided from every corner, including back in the studio where three talking heads may or may not even be paying attention, there is just too much babble about this call or that.

And I’m not just talking about the national broadcasts. If you have listened to Big Sky Conference games, including the Grizzly games, there are several announcers who feel it is necessary to call out officials, sometimes by name, and opposing players and in their dismay usually in defeat. They spend far too much time whining about the inconsequential, oftentimes not even understanding the ever-changing rulebook.

Young broadcasters often get caught up in what they have seen or heard at some network level and believe that’s the way the job should be done. Or, they think that method is how they will get noticed for that next big job.

I remember a single game, in Omaha, Neb., in the mid-80s against Creighton University, where I walked away feeling that the game officials cheated in favor of the home team.

And I suppose there have been a couple of contests where pivotal calls or, in some case, non-calls that might have influenced an outcome. In fact, sometimes the calls may favor the Grizzlies, but for the most part I work hard to say little about what is just all part of the game.

Often I think broadcasters get caught up with coach’s bench demeanor and believe, since he or she is yelling about a call, it must not have been the proper call, when, in fact, working the zebras also is just part of the game and an attempt to produce favor the next time around.

I would ask young or aspiring broadcasters to listen to the now-deceased Chick Hearn or even better yet Vince Scully and pattern their methods after storytellers who communicate with their audience to the point that you not only see the game, but smell it and hear it as well.

My good pal R. Budd Gould, who was blinded by diabetes and is now deceased, gave me the best advice I ever have received and never forgotten.

“Even if I am there, I can’t see and you have to be my mind’s eye,” he said, “and someone like me is who you should be broadcasting for.”

I’ll keep attempting to do that.