Part II: More Tales of a Prince and A Legend that Endures
This is the second of a two-part series sharing memories of the great Bob Prince.
The knock on the door came around the same time every morning, typically while Bob Prince was hosting his local sports radio show from the bathroom.
Itwas the fall of 1979. Pittsburgh was buzzing with excitement. Prince and Bill Hillgrove were roommates intheir Village of Cross Keyes hotel outside of Baltimore.
When Prince was on the air, Hillgrove said, it was routine for Howard Cosell — who was part of ABC’s TV broadcast team — to pop into see “The Gunner” and pick his brain about what Hillgrove described as “inside baseball things.”
Hillgrove would answer the door, make small talk until Prince finished
ands it back and observe, as Cosell seemingly stole little tid bits that he’d later use.
“Pitchers on the Pirates whocould bunt, pitchers who coulda ctually hit, that type of thing,” Hillgrove explained. “Sure enough, that night on ABC, you’d hear it coming backover the air. But Cosell wouldnot give [Prince] credit. Ithink he was poaching off the Gunner, but that’s just my personal opinion.”
You probably know by now, but the legacy of Prince is loaded with terrific anecdotes and stories. For Hill grove, a few of his favorites occurred during this particular period of time, when WTAE hired Prince to help cover the World Series.
“For that one week of activity, I could probably write a book,” Hill grove said. “That wasan eye-opener for me.”
That seems to be a typical experience for those who got toknow Prince, a big personality with an even bigger heart, someone loved by almost everyone and replicated by none.
Aswe continue with a two part series on Prince, let’s pick upat the same hotel, before World Series Game 1 against Baltimore.
As gigantic, wet snowflakes fell from the sky during an October Prince thought of a funny segment they could send back for the evening news. Along with Hill grove and John Stei ger wald, the three would sit by the hotel pool wearing swim trunks, have a few beers and talk some ball.
Thekicker was that it was freezing, snowy and nasty outside. Prince certainly didn’t care.The whole point was that nobody talked about the weather.
“We finally got it on the third take, and it was a classic ,” said Hill grove, whose incessant laughter ruined the first two chances. “Here I am with enough weight to not worry about it; I had some insulation. Gunner had no weigh tto spare. Neither did Stei ger wald. Those poor, skinny guys were turning blue because I was laughing.”
Prince was keenly aware of howto relate to an audience, andit usually did involve a few alcoholic beverages mixed with some casual conversation.
That’s certainly what he suggested to Mike Lange on morethan one occasion, along with telling the Penguins and NH Licon to ensure his broadcasts are appealing to everyone.
Lange and Prince were close, a relationship forged through Lange’s love of baseball and Prince’s soft spot for young broadcasters—and Lange oozes respect for the Gunner.
“He told me all kinds of things,” Lange said. “He said, ‘Youhave to remember the women. They’re one of the mostimportant parts of broadcasting .’ That’ s when he talkedabout the babushkas.”
Forthe younger crowd: As a pre cursor to Myron Cope’s Terrible Towel, Prince would urge female fans to wave their babushkas (or handkerchiefs) to ignite a rally. Prince also cameup with “The Green Weenie,” which was essentially a hot dog-shaped plastic rattle that was supposed to jinx opposing players.
“The other thing Prince told me was that you have togo see the people ,” Lange said .“So every years, I’d just take off and go into these small cities, stop into bars and meet the people .”
Asfar as drinking on the job, the idea of it makes Lange laugh.It was just part of the gig for many back then, Prince included.
“There used to be fridges full of beer in press boxes,” Lange said. “It was normal. It’s just the way it was. Nobody said anything. Everybody maintained. Before [Prince’s] first TV [Penguins] gamein New York, he turned andsaid to me, ‘You want a little shot? I said, ‘No, I’m all right.’
“Therewere a lot of guys I worked with who would drink6-8 beers during a game. Ijust never did. I had my one goof it in college and had to run300 yards to a bathroom duringa baseball game to pee. That cured me quickly.”
Lange wasn’t the only one who got some poignant advice from Prince. Steve Blass pickedup a few tips along the way, too, though they might not have been as eloquent or profound.
“Iremember him saying, ‘Youknow, lad, if you want to bea broadcaster, you should keep your mouth shut until the ball stops rolling,’ ” Blass recalled. “Of all people who never allowed any dead air, he’d tell me, ‘Don’t be afraid to keep your mouth shut, kid. A little dead air gives people a chanceto catch their breath.’
“It’s great advice. And delivered only the way he could.”
Prince telling someone else to shut up is nothing short of hilarious.It’s like Rickey Henderson instructing a rookie to stayon first base. Although he obviously became a cultural icon around here, the Gunner drove some people nuts with his meandering style, especially if a game became noncompetitive.
“Therewas no dead air with the Gunner,” Blass said. “He’d have you at second base or over in the Netherlands on some USO trip.”
Nothing was out of bounds, either.
Ifan announcer today shared his political or religious views, there might be a riot. Such behavior was common for Prince. Blass said Prince would often share something a bishop or state senator told him, editorializing the entire way.
“Hehad this unbelievable understanding of people and the structure of religion, the structure of politics in Pittsburgh,” Blass said. “He had an awareness of just not the Pirates or sports; he had everything.He knew everything about this city. It was crazy.”
Greg Brown can still remember the goosebumps he felt be fore the 1985 season. With the Pirates struggling and looking to boost interest, the idea was hatched to bring Prince back, this time as a regular part of the broadcast teamand to mend fences following his firing.
(Prince spent a few of those in-between years occasionally doing games on TV.)
Frattare pushed for it and welcomed the opportunity to learn from Prince, while Brown— a radio/TV coordinator at the time — remembers hearing the news from KDKA executives Rick Starr and Chris Cross, with Starr drawing the whole thing out for dramatic effect.
“My most vivid memory of any true connection with Prince was being involved with that decision to bring him back,” said Brown, who began calling Pirates games in1994. “It was crazy. So surreal, so nuts, so wild.”
Atleast until the actual come back game, anyway. Then it got even crazier.
Prince was nowhere near healthy.His return came shortly after April 1985 surgery to remove a cancerous tumor from his mouth, but Prince reappeared May 3 to callthe middle innings of a game between the Pirates and the Dodgers.
The Pirates responded by scoring nine runs that inning —one for every year Prince hadbeen gone — and a home runoff the bat of Jason Thompson that contributed to a16-2 Pirates win.
“Have you heard the one about Radio Rich?” former Post-Gazette columnist Bob Smizik asked, referencing anothers tunning example of Prince’s generosity.
“Radio Rich” was Rich Glowczewski, a die-hard baseball fan who had a learning disability. Glowczewski didn’t have much money and lived abovethe YMCA on Wood Street .He’d routinely approach Prince and others while seeking score updates.
After meeting Radio Rich, Prince took an interest and got him a job in the broadcast booth keeping stats. Prince also led a group of people that ensured Glowczewski could get warm, free meals at several down town restaurants, the Gunner and others pickingup the tab.
“What a great thing to do for this guy because [Glowczewski] “Bobbroughthimclothes.He was a good guy, but Bob made hislife so much better.”
Prince certainly had a distinctive personality and seemingly always wound up as the center of attention. Like when he jumped out of the third floor of a St. Louis hotel on a dare from Pirates third baseman Gene Freese, one of the more popular stories in Prince lore.
But Prince being Prince alsoa did a lot for others, Blass said, as the Gunner was certainly known for his charity work.
In addition to his two-day golf tournament, Prince would routinely donate his time, voice and persona to various luncheons or galas, anything that would help thosewho were less fortunate. Prince was even a part-time Sunday school teacher.
“Hehad his critics, but you also have to realize that this personality included the ability to create hundreds of thousands of dollars in charity,” Blass said. “He was out all the time doing stuff. He had fun withit, too. He thrived on it.”
It’s more than one singular story, but Blass was continually amazed when he’d watch Prince slam a couple of screw drivers at the bar, then step up tothe dais and give a perfectly articulate speech.
A Prince favorite was always the Thompson Run Athletic Association yearly banquet, though most of those stories are not printable in this space.
“Isaw the screwdrivers they poured for him, too,” Blass said. “It reminded me of an international orange juice shortage.He could be as foul as anything, but when the light went on, it was an amazing gift.”
Another of Hillgrove’s favorite Prince stories from the 1979World Series unfolded on thefield before Game 1, as that wintry mix coated Baltimore’s Memorial Stadium. Reporterss warmed Major League Baseball commissioner Bowie Kuhn near homeplate, expecting him to postpone the game. As Prince and Hill grove readied for a liveshot up the first-base line, Prince called out to Kuhn.
“Witht hat distinctive voice hewent, ‘Commissioner. Oh, commissioner.’” Hillgrove recalled .“Bowie Kuhn’s head spunaround because he recognized the voice. The next thing you know, he walks up thefirst-base line. We have him live to have the scoop that thegame has been postponed.
“Only Bob Prince could do that.He just had that kind of power.”
The only thing better than Prince’s timing might’ve been his memory. That’s one of the Gunner’ straits that stands outmost to Lange. Whether it was during his foray into hockey or any number of times their paths crossed at events around the city, Prince never, ever forgot a name.
“Ifhe met you once, he’d remember your name,” Lange said. “I watched him do it. He’d remember your wife’s name. He’d remember your kids’ names. He was unreal.”
Traveling with Prince whenthe Gunner would call hockey games in the late 1970s wasalso quite an experience for Lange when he looks back and compares it to everything else he’s seen and done.
Remember, this is a guy who spent time around Mario Lemieux, Jaromir Jagr,
Sidney Crosby, Evgeni Malkin and a bunch of other Hallof Fame hockey players.
“I’ve been with Mario. I’ve been with ’em all,” Lange said. “Nobody ever had their name shouted in places more than the Gunner. It was fun to watch.He’s the most recognized personality out of Pittsburght hat I have ever been with.
“Invariably— and I’m being honest about this — some wherein every airport we wentin, people would yell his name. ‘Hey Gunner! Hey Gunner!’ It was unbelievable. And theplayers were like, ‘What the hell?’ But they knew exactly who he was. That told me how big radio was.”
One special thing about Prince involved his relationshipwith Pirates players. They loved him, Blass said, believing his unique personality, crystal-clear rooting interests (Prince was an unabashed homer) and how he talkedabout them could help their image.
Prince was especially close with Roberto Clemente, where the announcer was allowed to call Clemente “Bobby” without issue. The
Great One gave the Gunner a Silver Slugger bat and would pickup Prince from the airport whenever he visited Puerto Rico.
“You could tell Clemente was tolerant of whatever Prince did,” Blass said. “Clemente certainly had sensitivities about who he was going to relate to and whose presence hewanted to be in, but he gave Prince along leash.”
Fratta re credits Prince with stoking a sense of family aroun dthe Pirates, one that he feels former general manager Joe L. Brown started many years before. Fans’ admirationfor Prince was readily apparent when they flooded the streets for an impromptu parade several days after his 1975 firing.
“There’s no doubt he was more popular than the players,” Blass said. “Bob Prince wasan institution.”
It’s crazy when you think about all the legendary broadcasters who have called Pittsburgh home — from Rosey Rowswell, Prince’s predecessor and probably something of a kind red spirit, to Lange, Myron Cope, Hillgrove and the ever-creative Brown among
the current generation.
Butif you ask Lange, there’s zero question who sits a top the mountain.
“Bob Prince is the greatest broad caster to come out of this area, ever,” Lange said. “I have nothing but total admiration and thanks to the Gunner for really teaching me what this place was about. He’d say, ‘You can be a little crazy, it’s all right.’ I’ve thought to myself a lot, the Lord must have known exactly where I should be when he sent me here.”
Bornin Garfield and having graduated from Central Catholic and Duquesne, Hillgrove also has a unique appreciation of what Prince has meant — and continues to mean— to Pittsburgh.
“Hehad a unique sense of humor and was a lot like Myron Cope in that regard,” Hillgrove said. “I think that’s what endeared both of them to this community. Pittsburgh is unique.It doesn’t accept people who are aloof or phonies. It appreciates real people, and the Gunner certainly was a real person.”