Scully was so good that he called other sports besides baseball. Did you know he called the 1981 NFC championship game between the San Francisco 49ers and Dallas Cowboys when Dwight Clark made “The Catch” from Joe Montana? Scully also called games for other teams besides the Dodgers, like NBC’s game of the week, and three World Series, including the roller through Bill Buckner’s legs in 1986 and Kirk Gibson’s iconic home run in 1988.
He called them all with class. Even though Vin bled Dodger blue, he never was a homer. He learned how to be impartial in the booth from Red Barber and carried the same “don’t whine, don’t complain, don’t make excuses” attitude to work every day. He always reported what happened without fear or favor. In this regard, he was like another famous Los Angeles broadcaster, Chick Hearn, who called every Lakers game just the way it happened, whether it was good, bad or ugly for the team that signed the check.
Sports fans in Los Angeles were blessed during this era. I was one of them growing up in Los Angeles in the 1980s. We had Vin Scully calling Dodger games, Chick Hearn calling the Lakers, Bob Miller calling hockey games for the Kings, Bill King calling football games for the Raiders and Jim Murray writing about sports for the Los Angeles Times. It doesn’t get any better than that.
Like all of them, Scully was a throwback and not all that big on stats, analytics or the sabermetric revolution. They all cared more about the human side of things. While Murray once wrote “Babe Ruth hit about 700 home runs,” before a Los Angeles Times editor put the exact number because it “seemed kind of important,” Scully believed “statistics are used much like a drunk uses a lamppost: for support, not illumination.”
This was the kind of daily wisdom Vin imparted to Dodger fans until his retirement in 2016. At his last game, fittingly against the rival San Francisco Giants, he saved his best for last.
“You know, friends, so many people have wished me congratulations on a 67-year career in baseball, and they’ve wished me a wonderful retirement with my family, and now, all I can do is tell you what I wish for you. May God give you, for every storm, a rainbow; for every tear, a smile; for every care, a promise; and a blessing in each trial. For every problem life seems, a faithful friend to share; for every sigh, a sweet song, and an answer for each prayer. You and I have been friends for a long time, but I know, in my heart, I’ve always needed you more than you’ve ever needed me, and I’ll miss our time together more than I can say. But you know what, there will be a new day, and, eventually, a new year, and when the upcoming winter gives way to spring, ooh, rest assured, once again, it will be time for Dodger baseball. So, this is Vin Scully wishing you a pleasant good afternoon, wherever you may be.”
He closed that game with words that seem fitting today: “Don’t be sad because it’s over. Smile because it happened.”
