MEL

In the 1940’s and the ‘50’s through ’64, the
Yankees were a monster with many heads, arms
And hearts, one which devoured more than their
Share of villains who threatened to claim the
Crown from them. These pretenders would grunt
And growl and attempt to power and finesse
Their way to post-season with a determination
And a regularity that all the other teams just
Lacked. And the man who painted all those
Word pictures of this masterpiece of a franchise
Was announcer Mel Allen, whose Southern
Intonations were on the surface of a child of
The Bronx comforting and mellow as the
Game progressed yet electric and vivid
In his descriptions when the team exploded,
As they often did, leaving oppositions gasping
In their wake. Mel was a friend, a pro whose
Voice carried even lulls between the storms.
He offered confidence and uplifting catch-
Phrases such as “How about that?”, saved
For outstanding plays and shows of artistic
Skill and unique flair, and his high-pitched
Home run trumpet, “Going, going, Gone!”
Which filled a lover of those Bronx Bombers
With a sort of love that only certain fans of
Other sports could understand in that time —
Fans of the Boston Celtics and Montreal
Canadiens and Arnold Palmer. He was
Called The Voice of the Yankees but he was
More than that. He was the storyteller, the
Griot, who shared reminiscences of great
Yankee teams with legends named Ruth,
Gehrig, Di Maggio, Rizzuto, Mantle, Berra,
And in doing so, his voice became synonymous
With Victory. He was an artist who worked on
Subjects which, because of the aura they were
All a part of, came to dwell in every Bomber fan’s
Consciousness. I’d hear his Alabama drawl and
I’d be much enthralled by his homey accent and
By his descriptive words and infectious phrases,
This law school graduate who spoke to you,
Who found a home with a team, ironically,
called Yankees! And he shared that warm and
Welcoming home with ordinary fans like me for a
Quarter century uninterrupted.

He has been greatly missed, but his voice lives
In my memory and when I watch a game and
Hear his twang and quaint descriptions, it makes
Me smile and want to thank him for the way he
Built the soundtrack to all those Yankee teams
That won all those games and titles. I’m owner of
A warm and pleasing fantasy: When I do meet and
Greet Mel in the Afterlife one perfect day for
A baseball game, I will smile and shake his hand
And feel the breeze of all those memories and I
Will ask him, in my East Bronx accent, with the
Innocence and joy of a devoted fan, quite simply,
“How about that, Mel?”