I remember times as a boy riding home from staying at my Grandmother's home in St. Louis. Our large family would be comfortably crammed into a Station Wagon with the windows down and a hard, warm breeze fluttering my hair. It would usually be around sunset, and I would watch the blue darkness slowly drape over the moving landscape. The cabin was relatively quiet, except for an occasional comment or question...my Mom trying to start some dialogue with me or my sleepy siblings. But there was another voice I was more interested in. Jack Buck was calling a Cardinal game on the radio. It always seemed that our trips home included a Cardinal game, and when they didn't, I would be disappointed and bored. It wasn't necessarily that I was keeping track of the hometown team's wins and losses, but it was just was Jack who drew me in. After those long weekends in St. Louis of being with family, and staying up late sneaking a little Benny Hill on the tv, and then waking up early in the morning to go pick up Dunkin' Donuts with my Dad, I needed something relaxing, something soothing. And that was Jack's voice. It was like drinking water through my ears for a thirsty brain. All my eyes needed to worry about was to watch the stars...Jack Buck began announcing for the Cardinals in 1954, long before I was born, and I suppose had been broadcasting for nearly 30 years before I was lucky enough to hear him. He reduced his schedule to only calling home games through the 1990's, when several health problems probably factored in. On September 17th, 2001, just after the attacks on 9/11 and the night that Major League Baseball resumed playing, in his Cardinal red Jack read a poem to the crowd at Busch Stadium, and really all of America, that he had penned himself. Though I only saw him recite it on television, I'll never forget that heart-warming and heart-wrenching few minutes, coupled with what all of us had experienced just six days before. Soon after that I had learned that Jack had been a war veteran, wounded in battle in World War II, fighting for the freedom of others, and my appreciation for the man grew that much more. He passed away June 18th, 2002, seven years to just a few weeks ago and only nine months after that last public appearance, at the age of 77. Sadly, I think most of St. Louis was unaware of that anniversary. I was fortunate enough to be able to attend a Cardinal game on July 2nd with a couple of very good friends, and made sure to dress in my Cardinal red, white and blue. Jack Buck sure would have.
It's always the badly dressed people who are the most interesting. Jean Paul Gaultier
I ain't gonna wear The clothes that you like I'm fine and dandy With the me inside One look in the mirror And I'm tickled pink I don't give a hoot About what you think Weezer, from "Pork and Beans"
I remember times as a boy riding home from staying at my Grandmother's home in St. Louis. Our large family would be comfortably crammed into a Station Wagon with the windows down and a hard, warm breeze fluttering my hair. It would usually be around sunset, and I would watch the blue darkness slowly drape over the moving landscape. The cabin was relatively quiet, except for an occasional comment or question...my Mom trying to start some dialogue with me or my sleepy siblings. But there was another voice I was more interested in. Jack Buck was calling a Cardinal game on the radio. It always seemed that our trips home included a Cardinal game, and when they didn't, I would be disappointed and bored. 
It wasn't necessarily that I was keeping track of the hometown team's wins and losses, but it was just was Jack who drew me in. After those long weekends in St. Louis of being with family, and staying up late sneaking a little Benny Hill on the tv, and then waking up early in the morning to go pick up Dunkin' Donuts with my Dad, I needed something relaxing, something soothing. And that was Jack's voice. It was like drinking water through my ears for a thirsty brain. All my eyes needed to worry about was to watch the stars...Jack Buck began announcing for the Cardinals in 1954, long before I was born, and I suppose had been broadcasting for nearly 30 years before I was lucky enough to hear him. He reduced his schedule to only calling home games through the 1990's, when several health problems probably factored in. On September 17th, 2001, just after the attacks on 9/11 and the night that Major League Baseball resumed playing, in his Cardinal red Jack read a poem to the crowd at Busch Stadium, and really all of America, that he had penned himself. Though I only saw him recite it on television, I'll never forget that heart-warming and heart-wrenching few minutes, coupled with what all of us had experienced just six days before. Soon after that I had learned that Jack had been a war veteran, wounded in battle in World War II, fighting for the freedom of others, and my appreciation for the man grew that much more. 
He passed away June 18th, 2002, seven years to just a few weeks ago and only nine months after that last public appearance, at the age of 77. Sadly, I think most of St. Louis was unaware of that anniversary. I was fortunate enough to be able to attend a Cardinal game on July 2nd with a couple of very good friends, and made sure to dress in my Cardinal red, white and blue. Jack Buck sure would have.
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