More than any other sport in America, baseball is the one that seems to nurture special relationships between broadcasters and fans. Perhaps it’s because the season is so long — the games taking us from the late-winter cold, through the first break of spring, deep into summer’s swelter and into the early frost of autumn — it’s only natural that we are tied so closely to the sound of a baseball broadcaster’s voice. For the better part of the past four decades, Mike Shannon’s rumbling voice and devilish cackle have served as the familiar soundtrack for this baseball-obsessed town.
Post-Dispatch
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