Bill King: The childhood friend I never knew

At long last, legendary Bay Area sports radio announcer Bill King received his due earlier this month--induction into the Baseball Hall of Fame. King's voice is associated with some of the most memorable moments in Bay Area sports history -- football, baseball and basketball -- and for me, his voice will always be associated with some of my most vivid childhood memories.

As Vin Scully wrapped up his 67-year broadcasting career with the Dodgers this year, many reflected about growing up listing to Scully's voice over their transistor radios, sometimes sneaking them under the covers on a school night.

For me, Bill King was Vin Scully, only times three. I grew up listening to him call Raiders, Warriors and A's games, and all these years later, his silky, conversational and dramatic voice still echoes through my childhood memories.

I recall discovering the Raiders as a 6-year-old hearing King's voice call a 1977 game (I think it was against the Jets) in the car on a family day trip. I remember sitting on a boat, I think it was 1978, on Lake Berryessa on a warm September day as he described an early season Raiders game.

I remember getting a pair of bulky radio headphones (a staple of the 1980s) as a Christmas present one year, and breaking them in listening to King's voice bring a Warriors game into my living room. I remember my uncle turning down the volume on the television during a 1980s Raiders game so that we could listen to King's voice instead over the radio.

I remember turning on one of those Warriors television simulcasts and seeing his handlebar mustache, silver beard and long, skinny microphone come across my television screen from courtside in Seattle. You just knew that those dreadful early '80s Warriors were destined to go down to defeat by 25 points to the Super Sonics, but with King's voice bringing every moment to life, I would stick with the game to the end.

I remember sitting on the deck of my backyard on a Saturday afternoon, or on a weekday afternoon, listing to King set the stage for another A's game. These A's were similarly dreadful (I recall one painful game where talented but wild pitcher Tim Conroy walked one batter after another), but with Bill King at the mic, it never mattered. Another long-forgotten pitcher, Mike Warren, had thrown a no-hitter at the end of the 1983 season and was getting ready to make his first start of the 1984 season. King, setting the drama for what would be another forgettable game and season, noted that Warren was trying to become the first pitcher to throw consecutive no-hitters to end one season and begin another, or some such thing. That suspense ended a couple batters into the game, but again, it didn't matter.

Of course, King also called some of the most memorable moments in Bay Area sports history: George Blanda's miraculous Raiders comebacks ("George Blanda has just been elected King of the World!"), the Raiders' 1976 Super Bowl victor over the Vikings (a hallmark of NFL Films' Super Bowl Memories, "Old Man Willie is going to go all the way!"); the incredible Holy Roller game in 1978 ("Nothing in the world is real anymore"!); and Rickey Henderson's stolen base records.

Sadly, for me, I never got a chance to listen to King's most memorable calls live. I was either too young or watching the relevant game on TV. For me, it's the forgettable ones that live on in my child's mind -- a reprieve from the trials and tribulations of adolescence, when a bad day at school or at home could be salvaged by the company of King's comforting voice on the radio, no matter what the outcome.

Another Bill King moment surely only I can remember came early in the 1984 A's season. It was destined to be another losing season for the green and gold until the likes of Canseco, McGwire, Stew, Eck and Co. burst onto the scene a few years later. But the A's had signed seemingly washed-up slugger Dave Kingman early in the season, and Kong, as he was called, went on an early season home run tear that at least made the A's somewhat interesting.

We were on vacation at Clear Lake, sitting on our boat listening to Bill call a weekday afternoon game against a team I can't remember. I just remember him describing Kingman strolling to the plate with the bases loaded in the first inning, and cautioning us listeners that it was too much to expect Kong to go deep every time such a situation arose. Sure enough, Kingman proceeded to launch a grand slam a pitch or two later, leaving King beside himself. "Holy Toledo!" he roared through the radio with his signature refrain. "What a man!" As we splashed in the warm waters of the lake, my cousin and I took turns mimicking the call.

Years later, I found myself by chance in the press elevator with King and a few others at the Coliseum before an A's game. I looked upon the man I had spent so many afternoons and evenings with growing up, and simply smiled, unable to speak a word. I never had felt so close to someone with whom I had never spoken a word.

"What a man!" Yes, indeed. But it was you who were the man, Bill King, and now you're finally going where you deserve.