Remembering 'The Voice'

Unfortunately for Philadelphians, this week got off to a rough start after it was announced that legendary broadcaster Harry Kalas suddenly passed away Monday afternoon in D.C. Harry the K , whose smooth, baritone voice was a fixture in living rooms, pick-up trucks and corner bars around the area, was found in the place that brought him decades of happiness -- the broadcast booth. Talk about a way to go ...

I can't think of much more to say that hasn't already been said about him. Borrowing words from countless articles and interviews that have surfaced this past week, the soundtrack to my summers is silenced and the voice of the Phils is gone. I'll never turn on a Phillies' game again without hearing his voice in my head.

I'm lucky to say that I did watch his last broadcast on Easter Sunday and was able to hear his last home run call when Matt Stairs hit one "outta here" in the ninth inning. I actually feel bad because my 7 year-old twin nephews, who recently became obsessed with all things Phillies, were jumping around and screaming with joy after the homer. I told them to cool it, that it wasn't the playoffs and that there's 150+ games to go this season.

Harry wouldn't have liked that to hear that, since he called every game with the same amount of enthusiam and passion, whether we were down by 5 or winning by 10, whether it was April or October. Things like this make you realize what we take for granted, and I vow never to quiet down a home run celebration again.

Along with the endless success hall-of-famer Harry Kalas had as a broadcaster, it's heartwarming to hear the memories those in the Delaware Valley and beyond have about him that occurred off the baseball diamond and outside the booth. Harry was truly a good man who had a real connection with us Philadelphia fans. Lots of sports media criticize us, Harry understood us.

Rest in peace, Harry. I'm sure you'll be looking down, calling the game with Whitey tonight. And I'm sure all of us will hear you in our hearts.