D Whit - Ralph, Lindsay, Murph and My Misspent Mets Childhood

“Hello everybody, this is Lindsey Nelson along with Bob Murphy and Ralph Kiner from Shea Stadium in New York.”

Those were words which commenced my introduction to Mets baseball. I wasn't around for the "miracle" and too young to "believe." In fact I cut my teeth as a Mets fan during some of its darkest days. I was too young to realize the team on the field was mediocre sliding towards horrendous in my early years of fandom. It didn’t matter because this was my team and besides the guys in the booth were a top-notch announcing trio.

I recall Lindsey being the excitable, yet smooth announcing pro, Murph had this kind of “ah, shucks” small town charm and Ralph was the ex-ballplayer who made up for his broadcasting limitations with creative insights and a great storytelling ability-regaling us with tales of Smokey Burgess, Branch Rickey, Choo Choo Coleman, as well as other assorted names  and no-names of baseball’s storied past.

Ralph wasn’t the most polished of broadcasters, but, he knew his baseball. He was also known, of course, for his “Ralphisms”-a combination of malaprops, mispronunciations and Yogi-esque statements like, ‘all of his saves have come in relief appearances’ or ‘all of the Mets' road wins against the Dodgers this year occurred at Dodger Stadium.’

But those Ralphism’s could sometimes contain solid baseball wisdom. One of my favorites (although I think it was originally Branch Rickey who said it) that’s kept with me to this day when viewing a team’s performance is ‘you’re going to win 50 and lose 50, it’s the other 62 that makes the difference.’ With the exception of the early Mets and 2003 Tigers that pretty much holds true.

In addition to calling games, Ralph gave us Kiner’s Korner following Met home games. There’s never been anything like it before or since. The long-running Mets postgame show, named after the section of the fence Ralph blasted home runs over in old Forbes Field in Pittsburgh, was more than a mere wrap-up show. It was completely of its time. 

Kiner’s Korner was a loose, off the cuff, no frills postgame show. The players were still in uniform, sometimes drinking a beer on camera, and at times it seemed that Ralph might’ve had a scotch or two before sitting in the host chair. As a result of the unscripted nature of the show it could get pretty free-wheeling on-air. But this didn’t matter because Kiner’s Korner was down to earth in a way that the media has lost touch with today.

As a viewer it was like being privy to the type of post-game conversations you might hear in MLB locker rooms. Also, you’d see players from whichever team won the game. Needless to say, I learned a lot about Met opponents during my childhood.

  

It was great to watch when the Mets did win. You might be able to see Seaver, Koos, or Maz talking to Ralph about a particular pitch they’d thrown or their approach to an at-bat while you watched the re-play of it on the screen. The hit and run, squeeze play, pick-off move, fielder’s choice, ERA, batting average-I learned what they all meant from Lindsey, Murph and Ralph. I also learned about Great Bear, Manufacturer’s Han(g)over, and that Schaefer was the beer to have when you’re having more than one-which was definitely case for adult Met fans who endured those lean years.

I used to feel sorry for Murph because it always seemed he took Met loses the hardest. You could hear this sad resignation in his voice when had to deliver the not so happy recap of those Met teams. Murph also tried his damnedest to get you excited about Roy Staiger,Gil Flores, Mike Bruhert  or any of the other assorted castoffs or AAAA players masquerading as major leaguers inhabiting those Met rosters.

I could relate with Murph too because when you’re favorite team growing up flat out sucks, well it’s demoralizing. Doubly so, when the youth and Little League teams you play for are equally awful. I took those loses, both on the field and on the screen, hard. You’d play six innings as a scrappy middle infielder in a losing effort only to come home and see Craig Swan lose another 3-2 game. I was inconsolable. Flynn, Stearnsie, Hendu-those were my idols growing up. Sure I knew they were flawed, but in youth hope springs eternal right?

You think it’s bad now? Well, coming of age during the DeRoulet/Grant’s tomb era-a particularly dark time in Mets history-was even worse. How bad was it? Well Lindsey walked following the 1978 campaign. He’d had enough of the losing.

Lindsey’s departure was a huge blow to the Mets, one they wouldn’t recover from until adding Tim McCarver and Steve Zabriskie in 1983. McCarver, his broadcasting partner for the next 15 years, revitalized Ralph. His work with the former Cardinal backstop recalled the earlier glory of the original Met announcing trio. Even Kiner’s Korner was given a new look around this time, while Gary Carter, Keith Hernandez, Doc Gooden, Darryl all became the Met postgame favorites.  

 

Ralph was now the sage elder statesman of the broadcast booth. Sure he was still full of malapropisms and mispronunciations, sometimes completely botching names- Gary Cooper for Gary Carter for example. But now he was like the kindly grandfather. It was almost endearing. Besides the man had outlasted his two original television broadcast partners, survived six seasons of hell, and never complained, so you almost wanted to salute the man for keeping his sanity. Ralph rode all that out to bask in the glory of 1986 as well as the near glory of 1988, and in the process becoming an institution for Met fans.

My first decade of Mets fandom was a wild ride. Ralph, in his own way, was my, and many others, tour guide through it. Thanks Mr. Kiner for the laughs, the memories, and the stories…