This story is about radio.

Growing up in LA, I was blessed with four unique sports voices which made me want to work in radio. I wondered how they made the voices so clear, how the transition to commercial went, how the microphones were placed; I needed to know all of that.

Bob Miller did Kings broadcasts, and with Gretzky’s arrival, really got thrust in the limelight. But he was steady and got excited at the right times and explained as he went.

Bill King did the Raiders, and we listened to him on Sundays when the Silver and Black were out wreaking havoc on the rest of the AFC West. Seattle, Denver, Kansas City, San Diego. He was excitable, and his catchphrase (“HOLY TOLEDO!”) made you make a note to try to find a television recap later, before the age of SportsCenter and everyone having ESPN. Hell, before everyone had cable to watch ESPN.

Chick Hearn was the voice of the Lakers, and his catchphrases and energy during Lakers’ broadcasts was just magical. He prattled on and on, but was never boring or seemed to want to talk to hear himself talk. I’d have my radio under the covers with me, past my 8pm bedtime, listening to Laker games while they were out East,

Then there was Vin Scully.

Vin narrated a lot of LA sports history, being with the Dodgers during an era of dominance and personalities and “We Love L.A.” by Randy Newman. Vin’s setup was unique in that he spent a considerable amount of time in the booth being quiet. The sound at Dodger Stadium was so pronounced, that sometimes he just let the crowd reaction fill the air. When he was excited, he talked just a little bit louder, but never yelled at you; he was the old dude next to you at the game who knew a little bit about everything and was talking to you about the game.

He stepped out of the booth a few years ago, the year before the Dodgers won another World Series, and he died yesterday, a Hall of Fame broadcaster and the narrator to many Los Angelenos’ baseball lives. And because of him and these voices I listened to, I knew what I wanted to do when I grew up.

But we know that didn’t work out. Or, maybe it kinda did.