The game will never sound the same without Harry....

I am watching the first Phillies game since Harry passed away, and it is a very, very emotional experience.

For me, Harry Kalas was the soundtrack of my summer. He was more than a voice - he was a friend. When the Phillies were up he helped you celebrate; when they were down (which was often), he was a grief counselor. Harry brought the same passion to the World Series that he brought to a September game between two last place teams, and that is why we loved him.

I cried for a long time when I learned that Harry had passed, even though I never met him. Why? Because for me, Harry Kalas was a constant presence in my life that is gone forever. Every year I have been alive, Harry was the Phillies voice. He was on the air for every Phillies game I have ever seen. For 30 years of games, Harry was there. He was there for every single one of Michael Jack Schmidt's homers; he was there to console me in 1993 when Mitchy-poo hung the slider; he was there in the last 90's when the Phillies couldnt hit their way out of a paper bag, and he was there last year, when the Phillies finally won it all. That game, game 5 of the World Series, was on Fox but I, along with everyone else in Philly, immediately turned on the radio to hear how Harry called it.

I think that is what will be the most difficult part of Harry's passing. For every play of every future Phillies game, good or bad, I will always wonder how Harry would have called it. No one else will have the same twang to the name Mickey Mor-an-di-ni, no one else will ever deliver "outta here" with the same sound, and no one else will be able to make summer sound quite the same.

My favorite Harry memory comes from 1993. The Phillies were in first place, for the first time in a long time, and I hung on every game. I spent a portion of the summer at an overnight camp in Connecticut, so I had to rely on the paper to keep track of my team during the month of June. However, one night I talked our counselor, George Walsh, into trying to tune his am radio to the Phillies broadcast. I had read somewhere that am signals travel farther at night, and sure enough after a few moments of fine tuning, out came the sound of Harry Kalas, calling the action from Philadelphia. Hearing that familiar voice was a real treat and, for one night, brought me home.

Thanks for the memories Harry. We will miss you.