Fans offer love, support for stricken Giants announcer Duane Kuiper.
Duane Kuiper has more friends than he will ever know.
Most of them have not met the man, but they are rich in emotional investment, devoted to the Giants’ telecasts so reliably delivered by Kuiper and his longtime partner, Mike Krukow. When it was announced Monday that Kuiper has a medical condition that will require chemotherapy, there was shock and apprehension among the fans and a very clear message:
Kuiper and Krukow aren’t just the broadcasters calling the action. They represent family and trust to the Bay Area fans, a spiritual uplift every day of the season. They matter. Interviewed by The Chronicle after the news arrived, a number of fans came to realize how much of their adult lives have been spent so pleasantly with these two men.
For the moment and foreseeable future, there is no clarity as to Kuiper’s condition. “He has asked that it not be discussed at this time,” Giants President and CEO Larry Baer said in a telephone interview Tuesday morning. “He put out the statement because he wanted to be up front with people, not missing games because he’s ‘on assignment’ or anything like that . ... The treatments are just starting.
“I’ve talked to Duane a number of times. He has a lot of will power, a lot of positivity. I can tell you he does really want to work.”
Krukow has found it extremely difficult to address this matter for the record. “He’s dealing with this, we’re gonna support him, end of story,” Krukow said Tuesday from his home in Reno. “That’s as far as I feel comfortable going. Kuip and I are talking every day, but we primarily talk about baseball, and that’s it.”
Since 2014, when the public learned of the
disease (inclusionbody myositis) that so drastically affects Krukow’s ability to walk, Kuiper’s friendship and behindthescenes devotion have been invaluable.
There were times when Kuiper literally lifted his friend up off the street after an awkward fall. It became part of his daily routine to make sure Krukow got to the ballparks safely. Kuiper became a safety net at a set of stairs, knowing Krukow cannot descend them facing forward. Three years ago, at a time when Krukow found the press box too difficult to negotiate at Dodger Stadium — the ballpark of his youth in Southern California — Kuiper launched the process of reworking the visitors’ broadcast booth so Krukow wouldn’t have to use the steps.
“I almost teared up,” Krukow said.
These days, with so much uncertainty in the air, Krukow keeps it simple with his partner. “All I can do is be there for him. I don’t call him up, like, how’d you do? How’d you sleep? Are you hungry? I don’t ask any of that. I’m dealing with a tough old farmer here. (Kuiper and his siblings grew up on a family farm near Racine, Wis.) We just talk like it’s business as usual.”
That was certainly the case Sunday, when the “Kruk & Kuip” broadcast proceeded smoothly in the CubsGiants game. “His voice might have been a little scratchy at the beginning, but I’m sure nobody had a clue that anything was wrong. Typical Kuip,” Krukow said. Now, as the Giants have moved on to Texas for a sixgame trip, it’s down to a threeman crew — still working in San Francisco, because of a pandemicforced Major League Baseball mandate preventing announcers from traveling with their teams.
“It’s all shortterm with our plans, but aside from those rare occasions when Jon (Miller) or Dave (Flemming) aren’t there, Jon will work the first three innings of the telecast with Mike, then move over to the radio booth,” said Baer, who has supervised the Giants’ broadcast structure for more than 20 years. “Dave will work innings 46 on television, then Jon comes back for the finish. These guys are such pros; Jon and Dave are absolutely fine doing radio alone. At times, depending on who’s available, we’ll have Javier Lopez or Shawn Estes teaming up with Mike on television.”
Baer spoke of being “overwhelmed, in the most positive sense, by the outpouring of love we’ve received from fans, colleagues, team members, people around the league, from everywhere — and I know Duane feels it.”
Among the fans interviewed, a single sentiment prevailed. “When I heard, my heart sank down into the pit of my stomach,” said Donna Bridgman, a selfemployed home caretaker in Half Moon Bay. “Those two guys are my soul brothers, with a rhythm between them like the sound of an old Motown song. They finish each other’s sentences like an old married couple, yet they each have their own unique cadence. I can’t even count how many times over the years they have made me laugh — and I mean a good belly laugh. We so blessed to have such joyful lovers of the game. Truly music to my ears.”
“I do think they’d make a good comedy team,” said Constance Prodromou, an acupuncturist and energy healer at the Marin Health Empowerment Center. “But they’re just the best in baseball with their wit and wisdom, always sharing great stories about the game and explaining things beyond the playbyplay. I feel like I know so much about them from their work. If I ever got to meet them, I could talk to them as longtime friends.”
Steve Cavalli, a retired attorney in Danville, said, “Kuip’s son, Cole, and my son were in the same class at Monte Vista High School, and I got a chance to speak with him occasionally. He was always friendly, kind and very funny. He and Kruk make the broadcasts so entertaining and informative; when one of them is missing, it’s immediately apparent. Kuip was a battler as a player, and we’re all pulling for a speedy recovery to get him back where he belongs.”
Ann Walsh, a retired schoolteacher/PG&E employee who lives with her husband in Stinson Beach, said she’s no stranger to baseball. “I grew up in Chicago and my dad was a Cubs fan. He would explain things to me, but not a whole lot. There’s just something about the chemistry between Kruk and Kuip, they cover all of the bases. Even when I’m at the games, I bring my earphones in case there’s something I need explaining. Problem with that is, people around you think you’re the bible (laughs). Like, ‘What did Duane say? Do you agree with him?’ ”
Krukow and Kuiper are praised for their genuine enthusiasm, acknowledging great moments from the opposition instead of sinking into depression. “That’s one of the great things for me — they are the perfect combination of being homers, yet objective,” said Nick Shapiro, a bartender at the San Francisco Yacht Club in Belvedere. “You know where their heart lies, but they call it straight.
“Kuiper, man, he’s got to have the best pipes around. And I love his home run calls. You never hear ‘It’s gone!’ on a ball that winds up 20 feet short of the warning track. He’s got that down. Doesn’t miss it.”
“As much as that signature home run call,” said Eric Colby, a longtime fan from Millbrae — referring to Kuiper’s iconic call for Giants homers, “It ... is ... outta here!” — “Kuip’s calling card to me is that nobody makes it sound as easy. That may be his greatest gift. Nobody sounds more relaxed and, well, smooth calling a game on television.
“As James Earl Jones in a cornfield would tell you, baseball marks time. For some of us, many of life’s milestones have taken place with a game on in the background, with the soothing sounds of Kruk and Kuip at the mike.”