Imagine being so good at your job that you are universally beloved, even in this divided world that can find reason to argue and nitpick everything.
Nobody debated the perfection of Vin Scully behind a microphone calling a baseball game. There was nothing to nitpick. He taught a master class in painting a picture with words.
The legendary broadcaster who died Tuesday at 94 provided the soundtrack for generations of baseball fans in Los Angeles and across this country as the peerless voice of the Dodgers for nearly seven decades.
A college friend of mine who grew up in Los Angeles described Scully's iconic presence thusly: "He's the true mayor of L.A., more popular than the beach."
Lucky are those who had the good fortune to listen to Scully's nightly broadcasts. Even luckier are those who got to enjoy his company, even if only for a few minutes.
Here are a few of those pinch-me moments ...
Dick Bremer, Twins play-by-play voice:
I met him only once in 2005. We were out at Dodger Stadium for interleague play. Before the game we talked for 15, 20 minutes about his career, the 1965 World Series.
So I do the game. By the time the team bus got us back to the hotel, the Dodgers network had just started replaying the Dodgers telecast that night. I said, This will be great. I can listen to Vin call the game I just did. It was one of the most humbling experiences of my life because he was talking about the Twins so eloquently and it all sounded so much more interesting than I'm sure my broadcast sounded.
Joe Christensen, Star Tribune assistant sports editor and former Dodgers beat writer:
The Dodgers were naming their press box after Vin in 2001 and they needed a writer to speak at the ceremony. Somehow it fell to me. I was 27 years old and working at the Riverside Press-Enterprise.
I'm so scared to give this speech. I gave some quick remarks, and it doesn't go bad. Vin takes the microphone and he said that he always viewed the press box as a special place for the writers. He acknowledged a lot of the writers going back to the Brooklyn days. Then he goes, 'And now we have four more writers on the beat.' He mentions all of us by name. I don't think my feet were touching the ground.
When I was living out there before I was on the Dodgers beat, I used to plan my whole day around when I could listen to him on the radio. He was a master at work, an artist. He'd open those broadcasts with, 'Very pleasant good evening and welcome to Dodgers baseball.'
Phil Miller, Star Tribune Twins beat writer:
Vin Scully was waiting in the Twins' Dodger Stadium clubhouse five years ago to say hi to Paul Molitor. We'd never met, but he asked about Paul. I said nobody had taught me more about baseball. We chatted about good sports teachers. His eyes got wide when I said I'd covered Jerry Sloan.
We stood there talking about Sloan and Utah Jazz basketball for 10 minutes, his questions savvy and genuinely curious. And I walked away suddenly understanding how Vin always had a story or anecdote or observation about absolutely everything. What a master.
Cory Provus, Twins radio play-by-play voice:
I met him in 2007. I was with the Cubs. I was like, Man, I want to meet him today. He was a big fan of Pat Hughes, the voice of the Cubs. I asked Pat if he could introduce me. I didn't take a picture but when I heard that voice, it was a neat moment that I will never forget.
My first job out of school was in Blacksburg, Virginia. I was doing Virginia Tech women's basketball. My boss would always challenge me by saying, Hey, call the game like Vin Scully. Don't try to be Vin because you can't be Vin. But just listen to how he broadcasts a game. His vocabulary, his cadence, his inflection, hitting all the right notes.
Even now, those are things I still listen for.
You can debate Bird versus Magic, Coke versus Pepsi, but there is no debate about who is the greatest broadcaster of all time.
