The Voice in The Box -
High school football is a treat, a treasure.
Arrive at the field early. Smell the fresh popped popcorn? Follow that smell to the concession stand. There buy a bag of popcorn and a beverage. A cold coke if the weather is hot, hot coffee if it’s cold out.
Concession stands usually benefit some school organization or another. Be generous. Maybe buy a bag of M&M’s for the second half.
Couple of Friday nights ago, in Blackwell, Oklahoma, I encountered Mark Meador. Mark is the “Voice of Friday Nights” for the Blackwell Maroons. He has a voice tailored for the job. It is crisp and clear; articulate and declarative.
The Maroons are in the middle of a trying season. As the evening progressed and the guest widened the margin between Blackwell and themselves, Meador continued to enthusiastically describe positive plays by the Blackwell boys while giving the visitors their due.
Blackwell struggled to make yards, tackles or first downs. But you knew about the quality plays they made. The boy’s name and number were loud clear. Their play acknowledged. The crowd knew a solid play had just been made.
Parents were proud and pleased.
Meador took the opportunities afforded by breaks in the action to point out the extraordinarily high quality of the Maroons cheer squad.
Over the years I have known several men who come Fall Fridays would opine from the press box.
In the 1950s and 1960s, Sallisaw’s man in the box was Howard Ward. He owned a meat market and grocery in Sallisaw. Howard’s press box career began when his son, Howard Dale Ward and his good friend, Leroy Hensley, started to play for the Black Diamonds.
After his son would make a tackle, Howard often enthusiastically exclaimed, “How about that Ward boy!” A gang tackle was always led by “Ward and Hensley”.
Howard enjoyed himself. He seemed to know every boy on the roster and filled his commentary with colorful asides. He developed an element to his personal style he believed helped his beloved Black Diamonds. At the snap he would quickly provide the defense with information. “PASS!” “RIGHT!”
I don’t know how much that really worked but it sure irritated the fans of the visiting team.
At Stigler for years was Bobby Cariker. Bobby was a classmate of mine and we were football teammates.
Bobby was a school man. He wanted everything right. And it was. Numbers. His call of players and play was immaculate.
I believe Bobby was the best high school announcer I have ever heard.
There was the highly successful building contractor, Ray Miller who ruled the press roost at Cascia Hall through the 80s and 90s. A Cascia grad and football letterman in the early 50s. He was Cascia and Notre Dame through and through.
Ray never let objectivity get in his way of calling a good game. He loved to insert tidbits like, “Now playing linebacker is Dr. McBride’s grandson, freshman Will McBride.”
I don’t think I ever properly thanked them. Shame on me.
“Holy Cow!” – Harry Caray
