In Honor of Dave

Dave Niehaus 1935-2010

I never knew Dave Niehaus.  Well, not personally.  I can't recall ever catching a glimpse of him at Spring Training in 1993, or when walking by the broadcast center on the club level at Safeco.  I didn't know him, but I felt like I did.  He felt like a part of my family, a surrogate Grandfather.  He told me fascinating stories, and lulled me to sleep at night over countless spring, summer, and early fall nights.  His loss has greatly affected the Mariners community, and it will never be the same without him.  This first year has been really tough.  Sure, it has been nice hearing Ken Levine, Ken Wilson, and Ron Fairly on the airwaves again.  But, it isn't the same.  It isn't even close, and I can't bear to listen to the television broadcast anymore.

Niehaus was an important part of the Mariners since day one, 34 years, and all of my years. Words can't adequately express how a simple radio broadcaster can have such an impact on your life. If you don't listen to baseball, you wouldn't understand. You let these people into your homes and hearts for nearly half of the year. You go through the excitement of the first day of Spring Training, the hope of Opening Day, dog days of summer, the blowouts, come from behind wins, pennant races, and the thrill/agony of the playoffs. Don't tell me that you wouldn't feel the loss of losing someone who has been an important part of your life. He could possibly be the reason I fell in love with baseball. I think maybe I fell in love with his voice first. Dave spoke to me.

I went to his memorial last year, there was a small shrine with various trinkets and gifts left for his family.  I left a token of my appreciation, and my childhood.  My favorite rock.  I used to collect them when I was a kid, and this one was special because it was perfectly round with a single white stripe, almost like a belt, around it.  But what made it even more special, was that it was so smooth.  I used to love rubbing its surface against my cheek.

But let me digress for a moment, the most amazing thing I saw left at the site was by a middle aged man, I'm guessing at least fifty. He approached the offerings, took the glove off his hand, left it, and simply walked away. It gave me goosebumps. The glove was well worn, it was obviously beloved, and I still get choked up thinking about it.

I left the rock for many reasons.  With the loss of Niehaus, I felt like I lost a bit of my childhood.  So it was only fitting to me that I should leave a bit of my childhood behind.  Rocks are constant, he was our constant.  It was also a way to acknowledge that "I was here, I recognize you, I remember you."


They remembered Dave today with the unveiling of his statue. It is the first statue in Mariners history.  It shows Dave, sitting at his broadcast booth with his scorebook opened up to game 5 of the 1995 ALDS.  He is surrounded by his most well known phrases, as seen above.  I think my favorite part is the empty seat beside him.  So that we, the fans, may join his broadcast for one final time.

The detail is extraordinary, as you can see from the pictures at right.  You can see his veins, the ring, the detail on his tie, the wrinkles in his suit!  Kudos go to the artist, Lou Cella.  The only issue I have is the grammatically incorrect "Its" in his Grand Salami phrase.  I didn't see an apostrophe.  Maybe I didn't look closely enough.  I believe it should be It's, as the phrase would be "It is Grand Salami...".  Maybe someone out there can shed some light.  Am I mistaken?

All in all, a great tribute to a great man.  He will always be a part of this community, and now he has been immortalized so that generations of Mariners fans to come may pay tribute to The Voice of the Mariners.  Rest in Peace, Dave.  Thank You For the Memories.