Sometimes it's better to light a flamethrower than curse the darkness

When I first learned, right as the World Series was finishing, that Dick Bremer was no longer going to be doing TV commentary for the Minnesota Twins now that this season had finished, my first thought was oh no, he's got some awful health problem.

I thought this because he's in his 70s. But also because it had never occurred to me that anything short of his death would get him away from that microphone.

To call him an institution seems to put it too mildly. He had just completed his fortieth year doing Twins play-by-play. I can't imagine Twins games sounding like anyone else because he started this when I was one year old. He started in the second year that the Metrodome existed.

By the way he seems fine, health-wise. The truth turns out to be more and less sad: I'm glad he's physically okay, but every impression I've gotten of him is that he's the kind of person who will be sad he didn't quite manage to call 5,000 games (he called 4,972!), that he didn't get a send-off...he might not have wanted a lot of attention but I'm sure he'd have wanted to know when he had gone to his last Spring Training, called his last Opening Day and his last home game in Minneapolis and his last game... Maybe he did know by that last game, but if he did he couldn't tell anyone and that also sounds awful.

I listen to a Twins podcast done by two local (to Minnesota!) sports writers who cover the Twins. I have, once or twice, paid extra to get their bonus episodes on Patreon -- like when Correa signed, it was worth the price of admission for just how giddy John Bonnes sounded -- and when they mentioned having gone into more detail about Bremer there, I signed up again just to hear it.

And it was nice to hear from the only people I'm likely to hear from about how weird it makes me feel to imagine Twins games without him. But it was also surprisingly touching and insightful at the end, thanks again to John Bonnes.

He said:

All of the accolades coming out yesterday are certainly deserved.

I think baseball does lend itself more towards the connection to announcers than any other sport. There is so much space to fill. And that space is often conversational, it's often that with which we connect.

(Gleeman says "Yeah, it's like a feeling of: I'm gonna spend the evening with Dick Bremer and Justin Morneau, watching the Twins."

Bonnes agrees, "Exactly right," and goes on.)

And so, how much of that is rational vs. emotional vs. whatever, something that's ingrained in our DNA, I'm not sure. But finding someone that you want to spend every evening with [laughs] - three hours! - is no easy trick! And over forty years!

Bremer had, not just the discipline and skill to be able to call that, but also showed enough genuine interest in that which you're watching, in the state in which he lived - every small town that was ever mentioned on that broadcast...! And so there's the 'he's one of us' aspect that's going to be really tough to replace. I mean that in a good way, I don't mean that in a cynical way. That's something that any market probably appreciates.

And then on top of that you don't want to spend three hours with somebody that's grating or inauthentic or...is afraid to reveal some of themselves to you. And the part they reveal to you, you admire, or you appreciate, or you tolerate [chuckles] in some cases.

There is, beyond just the skill of announcing, there is a validation of a person's character and personality that goes along with the forty-year run when you've got to talk into a mike for three and a half hours, a hundred and sixty-two times a year! Plus spring training. Plus postseason. Plus everything else!

He has checked all of the boxes. He has an endless amount of energy and enthusiasm for baseball and for this community. And now he's got a lot more time. And I'm interested to see where that gets directed to. I expect it will be in ways that I will admire and also appreciate.

I had never consciously considered it in this way, but I love the idea of baseball commentators having to reveal something of themselves to their audience in order to do their job well.

And there's something about just how much time you spend with them -- I don't watch anywhere near all 162 games in any baseball season (never mind a Twins season, ha! 62 might be a stretch sometimes!) but this had me wondering about the uncountable hours I spent listening to Dick Bremer over my lifetime. Have I spent that much time with any of my partners? Is it only more for my parents? Realizing that he's in that kind of company makes more sense of how affected -- oddly affected, I wanted to say at first, but no -- I was at the news of Bremer's departure.