Well, Damn: Chick Hearn's dead.
Layne was right the other day -- at least Chick got to understand how much L.A. loves him this year, after he came back from his other surgeries. My friend Eric described him pretty well last year, for those of you who didn't have the privilege of growing up with a man on the radio who went ahead and invented a new language on the fly, while talking fast enough to fill your head with crystal-clear images of players from Happy Hairston to Mark Landsberger to Clay Johnson.
You know how people call sports-radio shows nowadays, to "lay some smack," or give their "take" about how Barry Bonds or someone should "shut his pie-hole" because anyways he's just on "roids" and blah blah blah? (And I say this as a Jim Rome fan.) Well, when Chick would field a few phone calls before a broadcast, the conversation would go something like this:
Caller: Hi Chick! [Woman, maybe 40] I'm a long-time listener, first-time caller, and I just wanted to thank you for being there for us all these years, and brightening up our lives. It's an honor just to talk to you, and I wanted to let you know that.Seriously. People were grateful -- it wasn't about getting on the radio with the famous guy, it was about saying thank you to a guy who helped teach you the game of basketball, made you laugh out loud with the crazy stuff he'd come up with, and communicated real joy and enthusiasm in every freaking broadcast. He rooted for the Lakers, and owned part of the franchise, but he was no homer. Some of his best work came when the Lakers played badly. I meet up with my Dad every couple of weeks, usually over a baseball game, and conversations often start out with: "Did you hear Chick last night?" "Ohhhh, Chickie babie wasn't too thrilled with the old effort, no sirree!"
Chick referred to himself as "this reporter," and it wasn't an affectation -- he let you know what he saw, and how he felt. Even now, for example, when I watch an Angels' game on the teevee, and color-man Rex Hudler (a recently retired utility man) sees a player fail to run out a ground ball, or make some mental mistake, you can see Hudler is very reluctant to criticize, and chooses his words carefully. Chick never shied away from criticizing anyone, on the spot, using the full arsenal of his machine-gun language.
As a writer, one small but not insignificant measure of your lifelong contribution is the number of new words you bring to the lexicon. George Orwell, who wasn't a genius, coined dozens. Me, I might get future Safire points for the arguably dubious distinction of popularizing the term "warblog." Chick? Just check out this crazy list.
He broadcast every single Lakers' game from the day I was born until last December. Over the last few days, on the local TV news, several usually-stoic reporters have interjected with personal stories about how Chick helped them out, made them laugh and feel welcome. Went to a dinner party a few nights back with a French sports reporter, whose fondest memory of flying on the Lakers' jet was talking to Chick, and listening to his salty jokes.
You know what burns me up, just a little? I suppose I shouldn't say this, but ... fuck it: None of the senior editors or managers of the dominant daily newspaper in my city know what I'm talking about right now. They are all of them -- all of them! -- from East of the Mississippi River. Baltimore, Chicago, Philadelphia, New York, Washington. They have, incredibly, failed to put the Chick Hearn story in the front section of their newspaper for the last two days. According to the LA Examiner, they threw up an online obit with clumsy typos and errors. They will do a fine job tonight, I'm sure, but in moments like these you wish you had a local tribune that felt the blood of the city running through its veins, that was confident enough in itself, and in its hometown, to intuitively understand the importance of one of the city's 10 most influential men of the past half-century. It's amazing to me that there is no one right now I can think of, at a paper with 1,000 journalists, who I absolutely must read tomorrow.
Sorry for the unseemly outburst; I'm reading an extravagantly arrogant and shoddy book about journalism right now, whose basic premise is that us uncultured burghers should learn to love and emulate the "news values" of our four elite newspapers, of which the L.A. Times is one. Well, I'd rather honor and attempt to emulate a guy like Francis Hearn, who radiated pleasure and generosity, worked his living ass off, hit common high notes of uncommon genius, and never failed to pay tribute to his wife. Can you imagine Chick writing a tut-tut book about how broadcasting just ain't what it used to be, because the public has no taste? Uh, no. He gave the famously disconnected residents of the Southland a separate vocabulary to communicate with one another, and if you could all watch the local news here tonight you'd see a crazy rainbow of humans with 100 different accents and back-stories try to give a good man his due. If there is a public ceremony of any kind, it will be deservedly monstrous. Thanks, Chickie.
Posted by at August 5, 2002 11:35 PMYes to all that. Thanks Matt.
Posted by: Ken Layne at August 6, 2002 12:15 AMI second - very nice feeling Matt. Thanks for bringing me back, and for the below post and help.
Posted by: Eric Olsen at August 6, 2002 06:56 AMBravo Matt. You tellem. Used to confound the hell out of me as a kid and an adult when our brilliant Shakespearean talent you describe so well would be ignored, not only by the Times but the networks as well. BTW it cracks me up seeing how Pat Riley is seen these days as the allknowing hardcharging kickass exemplar of an old school NBA head coach. I remember when Riley was Chicky's sidekick in the early eighties prior to his promotion and he was positively lame alongside the master. Stu Lance to his credit has done what seemed impossible- work well with Chick while providing astute, well spoken commentary. Let's keep him.
Posted by: Lloyd Albano at August 7, 2002 11:44 AMChick Hearn was one of the finest gentlemen to ever grace a microphone. I remember watching him on a low-budget daytime TV show on a slow summer afternoon many years ago; "Bowling for Dollars".
The contestants would roll a bowling ball at some wooden pins, the number left standing would determine his portion of the loot for that day. Chick was the emcee. He asked one of the female contestants if she were married, and what her husband did for work. She answered that he was a window-washer, obviously displeased that he wasn't a fireman or actor or something important.
I am still impressed by the way Hearn handled that interview. He asked a few interesting questions about the man's job, then worked into how courageous her husband must be to work high up the side of a skyscraper. Each question, and each answer made the lady prouder and prouder about the man she had chosen to marry. I'm sure that guy returned home to something really special that night!
And that's what we Angelenos have enjoyed for these several decades. Something really special. Chick was much more than merely an interesting and talented announcer, he was a genuine, warm and honest straight-shooter. We will miss him.
Posted by: Ryon at August 8, 2002 05:20 PMThanks for that, Ryon!
Posted by: Matt Welch at August 8, 2002 05:29 PM