PHILLIES NAME LARRY ANDERSEN AS NEW ADDITION TO BROADCASTS THE FORMER JOURNEYMAN PITCHER AND RACONTEUR REPLACED THE LATE RICHIE ASHBURN IN THE TELEVISION BOOTH. (original) (raw)

For 25 seasons, reliever Larry Andersen thrived on escaping tough situations.

Ninth inning. Bases loaded, one out, nursing a one lead with Barry Bonds, George Brett or Mark McGwire at the plate.

No problem! “Andy” would fire his signature slider and then go pound some brewskies with the boys.

Andersen will try to talk his way out of the impossible situation he’ll be confronted with daily this season as the broadcast replacement for beloved Hall of Famer Richie Ashburn on Phillies games.

“I don’t think it’s fair to call me a replacement for Richie Ashburn,” the 44-year-old Andersen said. “It’s more unfair to Richie. Nobody can do what he did for as long as he did and have the heart of this city with him all the time. I’m not going to be able to do that.”

Indeed. Ashburn was a constant companion and friend, almost family, to every Phillies fan since 1963. His loss was deep, best symbolized by the fan who left a transistor radio at his casket during the public viewing at Fairmount Park.

“I’d like to look at it as I’m a new addition and not Richie Ashburn’s replacement. I couldn’t do it as a player and I certainly won’t try to do it as an announcer,” Andersen said.

The fact that Ashburn despised pitchers isn’t lost on Andersen.

“Right now, Whitey is definitely rolling over. going ‘Not a pitcher! Not a pitcher!'” Andersen said.

Andersen, a baseball lifer, was enthralled by Ashburn.

“I lived on everything that he said. You kept waiting for that one thing he’d say and how he was going to say it. The discourses between Harry and Richie were legendary,” Andersen said.

Andersen is excited about his new venture, even though he confesses,

“The only thing I know about television is how to work a remote. That’s my experience with TV.”

Andersen has been Talkin’ Baseball for an eternity, though — on buses, in the bullpen, in hotels, at the bar at 2 a.m., in the clubhouse hours after a game.

He’s a tobacco-chewing compendium of anecdotes and experiences with a wit much quicker than his baserunning speed. His delivery from the booth should be better than the one from the stretch that produced a 36-35, 3.12 ERA with 49 saves.

When asked to play word association with “Larry Andersen”,the newest Phillies announcer rattled off “Flake. Prankster. Jokester.”

Flake? Andersen once claimed to be batting 2.000 because “If 1-for-1 is 1.000, 2-for-2 must be 2.000.”

He developed blisters on his fingers from dialing out for pizzas from the bullpen phones.

Larry Andersen is the Cy Young of the hot foot, the Sandy Koufax of the shaving cream pie in the face and the Walter Johnson of X-File material that will never come to light.

This TV deal ups the value of his rookie baseball card.

“Absolutely! Now you have to take them out of the (bicycle) spokes,” he said. Here’s a recent illustration of his flakiness.

“When I was stuck in traffic three days ago, I started thinking about Mark Fidrych,” Andersen said. “That’s not a good sign.”

Fidrych was the rookie whiz who talked to the baseball on the mound.

“I never did that,” Andersen admitted. “But when I was a pitching coach (in Scranton and Reading the past three years), I told my guys to verbalize what they wanted to do before they let it go.”

Andersen has always had a skewed view of things.

“Spaceman Bill Lee once said, ‘The whole world is insane. So, if I’m insane, I’m normal.’ I subscribe to that.”

Andersen is better remembered for his gag masks and whigs than any pitch he ever tossed during World Series runs with the 1983 and 1993 Phillies. Andersen, you’ll recall, is the man who helped Mike Schmidt defuse a lynch mob by putting him in a long-haired whig.

He drew rave reviews for his “Deep Thoughts” such as ‘What do you call a home run when the visiting team hits it?’ or ‘Why do we drive on a parkway and park in a driveway?’ or ‘Why do fans sing ‘Take Me out To the Ballgame’ when they are already there?’

“I’ve been working on some new ones,” Andersen said. “Like, ‘Have you ever seen a turtle crawling around in a peopleneck sweater?'”

Andersen is down to earth and loveable. He’s genuine, which is one reason he’s always made a strong connection with the often hard-to-please Philadelphia audience.

“I’ve always been vulnerable,” Andersen said. “People put athletes on a pedestal. I always felt it was my job to step down and not allow anyone to make me better than anyone else. I try to be normal, not that others are abnormal.

“I’m just an average guy who was blessed with some talent that afforded me a chance to play this game that pays well and happens to give you a lot of recognition. No where does that make you better than anybody,” Andersen said.

The well-traveled Andersen played 25 seasons heeding the words of Lenny Johnston, his first manager in rookie ball.

“Lenny told us, ‘You’re going to meet the same people on the way down as you met on the way up. How you treat them on the way up will determine how they treat you on the way down. I tried to live by that creed. I think that’s why people have accepted me and taken a liking to me.”

Andersen also never forgot there has to be a lot of “little boy” in you to play ball. He had unbridled passion and joy for the game every time he put on a uniform –whether it belonged to the Phillies, Indians, Mariners, Red Sox, Astros or Red Barons.

“That’s why I’d seek out youngsters before a game. I’d play catch with them in the stands during batting practice or from the bullpen. Those kind of things don’t go away. They stay with the kid forever. I wasn’t a superstar. All that mattered was I was a major leaguer. Someone in a uniform. A Phillie. An Astro. A Padre.”

Andersen found it hard to take that uniform off. He turned down a Houston announcing job when Larry Dierker left the booth to become the manager so he could coach in Scranton one more season.

“I know I’m going to be looking for my locker when I go to spring training,” he said. “And, it’s not going to be there.”

He knows it’s time to seek new horizons.

“I think I have something to offer in terms of winning fans back and making the game fun again,” Andersen said. “I have enthusiasm. I have insights.”

Andersen said Harry Kalas, Chris Wheeler and Andy Musser have been great.

“They’re learning me the right things to say,” Andersen teased.

“We’re glad to have him aboard,” Kalas said. “Although, I hope he’s aware of the strict code of conduct broadcasters must follow. We have curfews and there will be occasional random bed checks.”

Wheeler warned, “There’s a fine line between being too funny and too entertaining.”

Originally Published: January 23, 1998 at 5:00 AM EST