"Why would you try to put your own voice above the roar of the crowd?"
Tom Hamilton is talking about walk-off home runs, and he's talking about the greatest sound in sports, and he's indirectly asking why his colleagues in other boo...
"Why would you try to put your own voice above the roar of the crowd?"
Tom Hamilton is talking about walk-off home runs, and he's talking about the greatest sound in sports, and he's indirectly asking why his colleagues in other booths would try to compete with a sound that is close to natural perfection. "I'm a firm believer in spontaneity," he adds, responding to the notion that some broadcasters (we're looking at you, Jim Nantz, and you, John Sterling) plan what they'd like to say in a dramatic moment. "I don't feel like that would work for me," Hamilton says. "It wouldn't feel natural."
At age 57 and in his 24th season with the Tribe, Hamilton has gained the trust of Cleveland Indians fans. This is no small point. Many broadcasters -- most, certainly -- never cross the rubicon that cements their credibility with fans. Hamilton did so long before his remarks about Aroldis Chapman made headlines earlier this season. Indians fans trust Hamilton because he is blunt, almost cantankerous at times, especially in describing poor umpiring or lack of effort. Broadcasters often hesitate to criticize their team or organization, but Hamilton feels that it's his responsibility to do so when criticism is warranted.
There is very little chance that Hamilton is a regular dining companion of umpire Angel Hernandez, for example. When Hernandez made one of the worst umpiring decisions in baseball history during a May game at Progressive Field, Hamilton was ready to state the obvious, even though it might not please Tribe fans listening to his call: Adam Rosales had just hit a game-tying home run. Chris Perez had served up a pitch in the middle of the plate (a chronic problem for Perez of late) and Rosales had sent a rocket to left-center. The ball had cleared the wall and hit the railing.
After a long review, Hernandez emerged to declare the ball had not cleared the wall, and the play would stand as called: double. Hamilton asked, "Are you kidding me? I don't know how you miss that call." That was just for starters. Meanwhile, on television, Matt Underwood and Rick Manning straddled the fence, indicating that the play looked like a home run, but you never know, and it's hard to really tell, and Go Tribe!, and...
"Unbelievable," Hamilton huffed.
But the veteran broadcaster explains that he's careful to differentiate when tough words are warranted. "I'll never say a guy is an idiot for swinging at a ball in the dirt, because guys swing at balls in the dirt all the time," he says. "It's part of the game, even if it's frustrating. But if a player isn't running a ball out to first, I'll point out that he's not hustling. The least you can do is run hard to first."
Ultimately, Hamilton has become what the best play-by-play broadcasters become: a master storyteller. There is an art to collecting interesting information about a team, a place, a player, and then weaving that information into the structure of a game. Most broadcasters read a list of facts that seem interesting to them. Hamilton understands how to build a narrative. He is not particularly interested in the broadening of the statistical understanding of baseball, because he feels "you can number people to death. People will go numb if you use too many numbers. I know I do. If I hear a broadcast and they're stuck on numbers, I stop listening."
So which numbers does he prefer? "I prefer the numbers that fans recognize and can relate to. Home runs, RBIs, runs, batting average, on-base percentage. Some of these newfangled numbers, I'm sure they have a place. But I don't get into the wins and replacement numbers -- it's too much. You can make numbers say whatever you want them to say. I'm not saying these new stats don't have a place, but I hear some broadcasters talking about a guy's ERA on Tuesdays under a full moon while pitching left-handed. Who cares? Fans are not accountants."
"This is still a people business, and