Marcos Bretón: Kings' announcer a true rarity
By Marcos Bretón -- Bee Sports Columnist
Published 2:15 am PDT Friday, April 15, 2005
There are some guys you don't appreciate fully until they are gone.
Then you say: Man, he was good. I wish I had told him what a pro he was, what a pleasure he was, what a talent he was.
Thankfully, Gary Gerould isn't going anywhere anytime soon. He remains faithfully as the enduring voice of the Sacramento Kings.
But as Gerould's 20th Kings season nears an end, it seems right to put aside the arena debacle and a turbulent team restructuring to appreciate the most consistent performer at Arco Arena.
The Kings aren't what they were a few years back, but Gerould is.
The Kings were horrible for the first 14 years of Gerould's tenure - their history in Sacramento - but Gerould wasn't.
His hiring was the one decision the early Kings owners made that still stands. Everything else has been scrapped, save for the silver-haired sage at courtside.
Indeed, the Kings were a franchise that goofed in every way from 1985 to 1999, but got it right by insisting on a Sacramento voice for Sacramento's team.
We probably take that voice for granted in Sacramento because it's not shrill or self-promoting.
But if you have NBA League Pass, listen to other announcers and see if you don't reach this conclusion:
That Gerould is the best NBA team broadcaster there is - a word-picture artist whose steady, snappy Midwestern calls mirror the rapid-fire fury of NBA action.
"I don't know who the No. 2 announcer is in the NBA, but I know who the No. 1 announcer is," said Jerry Reynolds, the Kings director of player personnel.
There is no doubting now, in fact, that Gerould's signature call - "Heeeee's got the triple!" - is part of our landscape.
"I call him, The Bhagwan," said original Sacramento King Reggie Theus on Thursday, in between recruiting calls in his new job as basketball coach at New Mexico State.
(By definition, Bhagwan - pronounced bag-WAN - is a Sanskrit word meaning blessed one, a name given to holy men from India).
"Gary is all knowing, all seeing," Theus continued. "We've had many conversations about life and basketball; about trials and tribulations - thus, the name Bhagwan."
Like many early Kings, Theus made many a stop at Gerould's Greenhaven-area home in the early days of a fumbling, fledgling franchise.
In the 1980s, the salary gap between NBA players and NBA announcers was not the Grand Canyon-like chasm it is today. Consequently, Gerould has never been a detached team observer with a microphone.
His life became intertwined with the soul of Sacramento's team.
To some, Joe Kleine represents a franchise downer. He was, after all, a No. 1 draft pick in 1985 that flopped while players the Kings passed up - Karl Malone, Chris Mullin - became All-Stars.
To Gerould, Kleine represents a frequent Christmas-time guest - "a great person."
And the late Ricky Berry, who committed suicide in his Carmichael home in 1989 after one Kings season, is just as soon forgotten by long-time Kings fans seeking to bury the darkest day in team history.
But Gerould remembers with affection and sadness - his amiable face winces with mourning - at the mention of Berry, who shared his last evening with Gerould's son and daughter-in-law.
"I'll never forget when the I got the call from my son ... He was so upset."
And so was Gerould.
Gerould has always felt the Kings losses deeply on the court because he felt deeply for them off the court; he's always opened to them the home he shares with Marlene, his wife of more than 40 years.
Today's players don't visit as often because they make so much money. That's their loss.
Just as it will be our loss when Gerould hangs them up. Nearing 65, he has one year left on his contract and hopes to keep calling games after that.
He's come a long way from an essentially orphaned kid from Midland, Mich., who turned to calling games because the radio was his best childhood friend.
That sounds sad and it was, but it's not anymore - his is a happy life.
Next season, Gerould will call his 1,600th game, though it is hard to know when because he has many other broadcasting duties in motor sports for ABC.
"I want to keep doing this as long as they will have me ... How lucky can a guy be?" What can you say, but: Heeeeee's had a good life!
http://www.sacbee.com/content/sports/basketball/kings/story/12729210p-13581082c.html
By Marcos Bretón -- Bee Sports Columnist
Published 2:15 am PDT Friday, April 15, 2005
There are some guys you don't appreciate fully until they are gone.
Then you say: Man, he was good. I wish I had told him what a pro he was, what a pleasure he was, what a talent he was.
Thankfully, Gary Gerould isn't going anywhere anytime soon. He remains faithfully as the enduring voice of the Sacramento Kings.
But as Gerould's 20th Kings season nears an end, it seems right to put aside the arena debacle and a turbulent team restructuring to appreciate the most consistent performer at Arco Arena.
The Kings aren't what they were a few years back, but Gerould is.
The Kings were horrible for the first 14 years of Gerould's tenure - their history in Sacramento - but Gerould wasn't.
His hiring was the one decision the early Kings owners made that still stands. Everything else has been scrapped, save for the silver-haired sage at courtside.
Indeed, the Kings were a franchise that goofed in every way from 1985 to 1999, but got it right by insisting on a Sacramento voice for Sacramento's team.
We probably take that voice for granted in Sacramento because it's not shrill or self-promoting.
But if you have NBA League Pass, listen to other announcers and see if you don't reach this conclusion:
That Gerould is the best NBA team broadcaster there is - a word-picture artist whose steady, snappy Midwestern calls mirror the rapid-fire fury of NBA action.
"I don't know who the No. 2 announcer is in the NBA, but I know who the No. 1 announcer is," said Jerry Reynolds, the Kings director of player personnel.
There is no doubting now, in fact, that Gerould's signature call - "Heeeee's got the triple!" - is part of our landscape.
"I call him, The Bhagwan," said original Sacramento King Reggie Theus on Thursday, in between recruiting calls in his new job as basketball coach at New Mexico State.
(By definition, Bhagwan - pronounced bag-WAN - is a Sanskrit word meaning blessed one, a name given to holy men from India).
"Gary is all knowing, all seeing," Theus continued. "We've had many conversations about life and basketball; about trials and tribulations - thus, the name Bhagwan."
Like many early Kings, Theus made many a stop at Gerould's Greenhaven-area home in the early days of a fumbling, fledgling franchise.
In the 1980s, the salary gap between NBA players and NBA announcers was not the Grand Canyon-like chasm it is today. Consequently, Gerould has never been a detached team observer with a microphone.
His life became intertwined with the soul of Sacramento's team.
To some, Joe Kleine represents a franchise downer. He was, after all, a No. 1 draft pick in 1985 that flopped while players the Kings passed up - Karl Malone, Chris Mullin - became All-Stars.
To Gerould, Kleine represents a frequent Christmas-time guest - "a great person."
And the late Ricky Berry, who committed suicide in his Carmichael home in 1989 after one Kings season, is just as soon forgotten by long-time Kings fans seeking to bury the darkest day in team history.
But Gerould remembers with affection and sadness - his amiable face winces with mourning - at the mention of Berry, who shared his last evening with Gerould's son and daughter-in-law.
"I'll never forget when the I got the call from my son ... He was so upset."
And so was Gerould.
Gerould has always felt the Kings losses deeply on the court because he felt deeply for them off the court; he's always opened to them the home he shares with Marlene, his wife of more than 40 years.
Today's players don't visit as often because they make so much money. That's their loss.
Just as it will be our loss when Gerould hangs them up. Nearing 65, he has one year left on his contract and hopes to keep calling games after that.
He's come a long way from an essentially orphaned kid from Midland, Mich., who turned to calling games because the radio was his best childhood friend.
That sounds sad and it was, but it's not anymore - his is a happy life.
Next season, Gerould will call his 1,600th game, though it is hard to know when because he has many other broadcasting duties in motor sports for ABC.
"I want to keep doing this as long as they will have me ... How lucky can a guy be?" What can you say, but: Heeeeee's had a good life!
http://www.sacbee.com/content/sports/basketball/kings/story/12729210p-13581082c.html
