There I stood. Facing down the old man. Wiffle ball bat in hand, I was enjoying a modified version of America’s pastime. And when that hollowed out ball made contact with my thin yellow bat, I felt like a major leaguer. So as that ball flew across our backyard, I deserved a major league call. “Watch that baby, OUTTA HERE!” Those were the words I called out as I rounded the bases imitating the voice of summer, Harry Kalas. And now that voice will be no more.

Yesterday afternoon as he prepared for the Philadelphia Phillies game versus the Washington Nationals, Harry Kalas collapsed and died at 73 years of age. And yet it couldn’t have been more fitting that his final moments were spent in the broadcast booth, the place where he became a legend. Those in the Philadelphia area will always remember him as the voice of baseball.

That deep baritone voice is absolutely unmistakable. Not only was Kalas the voice of the Phillies, he rivaled the great John Facenda as the voice of NFL Films. Many will remember his narrations of the greatest moments and legends of football.

And though Harry the K was a larger than life figure, he was liked and respected by everybody. As I listen to tribute after tribute one thing is certain, he never said a bad word about anybody, and nobody could say a bad word about him. Instead you hear tails of how he went out of his way to accommodate everybody. And while many will miss his voice, those who knew him know we will also miss a great person.

After spending a couple years in the Houston Astros organization, Harry Kalas was brought into Philadelphia in 1971 by Bill Giles. At the time he uprooted the fan favorite Bill Campbell and was placed with Richie “Whitey” Ashburn. The two would gel and become one of the greatest broadcasting pairs in all of sports (both being inducted into the baseball hall of fame). In 1997 Ashburn passed away, but Kalas continued to carry on.

And as the summers passed for me, legends have come and gone. I’ve had good days and bad. And yet through it all Harry Kalas was a constant. Night in and night out, his soothing voice brought comfort across the Delaware Valley. From his Michael Jack Shmidt homerun calls to calling the final out of the 2008 World Series, Kalas’s calls will echo in our heads forever. It was an honor to have the opportunity to listen to him. Now he will be missed.