One of the great broadcast duos in the history of baseball—Mike Rafoni and Jim Kullerman—are retiring after 40 years in the booth. Rafoni, the eminent play-by-play man, and his analyst/lame humorist (his words), announced their retirement before tonight’s road game, the last game of the season. It’s the top of the ninth and their team is losing, 12-0. Let’s listen as they return from a commercial break:
MIKE: Mike Rafoni and Jim Kullerman here, back in the Lowe’s Broadcast Booth—“Let’s Build Something Together.” Garcia slips a fastball past a helpless Martinez, one and two the count. That was Garcia’s fifteenth pitch since coming into the game in the eighth inning. Fifteen minutes can save you fifteen percent on your car insurance. Call 1-800-GOT AUTO and talk to a GEICO representative now.
JIM: Garcia lit up the gun, Mike—a hundred and one. He may be 23 years of age now, but he can still bring it.
MIKE: The ninth inning is brought to you by SeeAlice, the Official Erectile Dysfunction Pill of Major League Baseball—“SeeAlice—She’ll turn your blooper into a frozen rope.”
JIM: I don’t’ know about that, Mike. See, Alice doesn’t live here anymore.
MIKE: Ha, Ha, a good one, pal. You’re still a helluva card after all these years. I forgot you were a movie buff. And there’s strike three on Martinez, who remains mired in a slump. One out. Rodriguez steps into the batter’s box.
JIM: For some reason SeeAlice reminds me of Bush—the senior Bush. Remember that line about his privileged upbringing—born on third base and thinks he hit a triple?
MIKE: I sure do. My good pal Tweeter Bobbitz came up with a follow-up line regarding junior Bush—born on third base and thinks he hit a double.
JIM: I love that! Jesus, poor W.
MIKE: Garcia, like the artist he is, paints the corner with a slow curve. Just like our listeners can paint like artists with Sherwyn-Williams Paint—“We Cover the World.” There’s a ball inside to Rodriguez, one and one. Any scores from other games, JIM?
JIM: According to the Toyota out-of-town scoreboard, the double-header between Miami and Colorado is over. In the first game, the Fish scaled the Rockies, 6-2; in the second the Rockies scaled the Fish 4-0. “Toyota: Let’s Go Places.”
MIKE: (Groans) Hardy friggin’har, Jim. You should be PUNished for that. Rodriguez singles to center. We got a man on and one out.
JIM: One more out of town score, Mike. Hillary beat the crap out of Trump. Say, how would you describe Trump’s privileged upbringing? Born on third base and thinks he hit a homer?
MIKE: No, that’s too obvious. I don’t think the difference between Trump and the Bushes is one of degree. Trump is one of a kind. This is better, I think: Donald Trump—born on third base and insists he’s been inducted into the Hall of Fame. Garcia looks in for the sign. Here’s the pitch. Gonzales slaps a hard grounder to short, toss to second, relay to first. Double play—6-4-3—game over! Our Boys lose again. Oh, well, they’re young and should be better next year.
JIM: Don’t bet your house on it.
MIKE: You’re right, my man. We gotta be patient, it’s a rebuilding year. Jim, before we bow out, I just want to express our appreciation to Major League Baseball and to our sponsors for allowing us to work in some play-by-play during the ball games And Jim, it’s been a pleasure working with you. Four decades, my friend. What a ride it’s been!
JIM: Indeed it has, Mike. Let’s go pound some Budweiser.