You made the game I love last longer while my knowledge of life grew stronger through your voice.
Each game was a treat and I could not wait for a reference to Rabbit Maranville or some dish you ate.
Some words you used sent me rushing to the dictionary and others just made me laugh. I would never have thought of using Lazarus in a sentence but for your skill of your craft.
Your wit and your wisdom made a tough loss seem all right, with a look ahead to the starting pitchers the next night.
At this point I'm crying as I'll never hear your voice, castigating an umpire for making the wrong choice, or calling a player , home or away, hero or goat in your own special way.
Marine layer, twilight, an airplane tacking against the wind, so many things at a game I would have missed except for a whim you had.
Enlightened each time, every game was a lesson of how to watch, speak and listen at any bull session. Not just about baseball but ballet and sailing, but let's not forget that catch at the railing.
I miss you now and though we never met each game was an rendezvous of kindred spirits.
Words get stuck in my heavy heart and tears well up in my eyes when I think, I'll never hear you voice sing " Hello again everybody this is Bill King."