On the Radio Dial

Visits to the hospital have been replaced with visits to the rehab center. Getting there from here takes two tollways and a state highway. Ever since Ed Farmer died, the White Sox on the radio are a hard listen for me. Len Kasper is fine, I just get so wrapped up in games I become a hazard on the road; e-6 could lead to road rage. Same thing with the Cubs’ duo of Pat Huges and Ron Coomer. Them I can‘t stand, a sentiment that manifests itself by constant screaming. Passengers and fellow motorists are not amused. Football, though, I can listen to, if only as a way to pass the time on the way to a destination that holds little, if any, enjoyment. Sunday, we listened to the Jets-Packers’ game, made especially pleasurable by Aaron Rodgers losing performance; I’m that much of a Bears’ fan. The play-by-play got me to thinking of two voices long passed. If you never heard Jack Brickhouse call a game with gossip columnist Irv Kupcinet at his side providing color, you missed one of the greatest comedy teams of all time. No Munsters’ miscue, regardless how monumentally bad, could stop Brickhouse and his buddy “Kup” from pouring on the whitewash. Take the second quarter, and we’re in this game. It’s a short pass on fourth down, No, wait, the [fill in the blank for the opponent] blocked Bobby Joe Green’s punt! It just wasn’t the Bears’ day, Kup. That’s right, Jack. If the people at the front desk wondered why I was smiling so, it was memories of Martin and Lewis behind the microphone going through their signature routine. The emperor has wonderful new clothes, George Halas a good football team.