Losing a Friend

I said yesterday I was going to put up a post about Genesis. But that's going to have to wait a day. I really feel the need to memorialize Joe Nuxhall.

Joe was a radio broadcaster and member of the Cincinnati Red's organization for six decades. He passed away late Thursday night at the age of 79.

As a life-long Reds fan, and a fan that has had to listen to the radio because they were never on TV (until the advent of Fox Sports Ohio, praise the Lord), I have many memories of the ol’ Left Hander making calls with Marty. I cannot say I saw Nuxie pitch, but I do know the guy won 136 career games with a 3.80 ERA. That’s a good career.

But for someone to stick with one organization for virtually six decades is a more remarkable achievement. Just think about everything he witness during his radio career with the Reds. He watch first-hand one of the greatest 10-year runs in sport with the Big Red Machine. There were three Hall 0f Famers on that team (should be five with Pete Rose and Dave Concepcion). He saw the miraculous 1990 World Series (the greatest year of my life). He saw thousands and thousands of wins…and losses. What Reds fan wouldn’t trade to live the life of Joe.

Even in his later years, I have to admit that he slowed down considerably. Not only with his broadcasting schedule but with the way he called the game. But there was a certain charm to that. He was the guy you would want to listen to while you were sitting on your porch drinking a lemonade on a cool summer evening.

If you aren’t a Reds fan, you can’t truly appreciate what Nuxie means to us. You spend night after night listening to a fellow year in and year out and he becomes your friend. He’s there through the good times and the bad times. He celebrates and commiserates right along side of us. How many radio broadcasters do you know that get their own bobble head dolls?

Ask a Reds fan who the most iconic figure in the history of the team is. You might hear Johnny Bench. You might here Barry Larkin or Ted Kluszewski. Someone might even say Sparky Anderson or Pete Rose. But I’m willing to bet that even with all those hall of fame players and managers that Joe would make that list more often than not. His career spanned generations in Cincinnati.

He is already a member of the team’s hall of fame and his youth is immortalized in bronze outside the Great American Ballpark. My only hope is that some day he’ll join Marty, his long-time partner in the Baseball Hall of Fame.

Believe me, I won’t claim to know him as well as Marty or any of the people that spent their lives with him, but like I said before, he became a friend. And it’s always tough to lose a friend.