Lawrence H. Goldberg, whose diligence saved Russ
Hodges' famous, exuberant baseball call, "The Giants
win the pennant!" died Saturday, April 25, 2009, in
Atlanta. He was 84.
It was October 3, 1951, when Mr. Goldberg -- before
heading to work -- asked his mother, Sylvia, to record
the end of the third game of the Brooklyn Dodgers-New
York Giants playoff game. That reel-to-reel tape
recorded Hodges' call: 'There's a long fly. It's going to
be, I believe. The Giants win the pennant! The Giants
win the pennant! The Giants win the pennant! The Giants
win the pennant! Bobby Thomson hits into the lower
deck of the left-field stands. The Giants win the pennant!
And they're going crazy. They're going crazy!'
The radio station that broadcast the game hadn't recorded
it, and Mr. Goldberg offered to lend his tape to Hodges.
Without it, the world would have never heard the call --
which has since been repeated on the radio, TV and film.
At first, Hodges made recordings as gifts for friends.
The next spring, sponsor Chesterfield cigarettes made
records of the call for their dealers. In return, Mr. Goldberg,
was given a tape cartridge, $100 and access to Chesterfield's
box at the Polo Grounds for the season.
On the 50th anniversary of the call, Mr. Goldberg told The
New York Times why he made the recording: 'I knew
I wouldn't be able to listen to the broadcast, and I knew
something was going to happen,' he told the Times. 'It was
the third game of the playoffs. That kind of game had to
be climactic, even if it was a blowout.'
Larry Goldberg died at Emory University Hospital from
congestive heart failure. In addition to being an avid Giants
fan, he was a loving husband, father, grandfather and
retired travel agent.
He was born January 3, 1925, in Brooklyn, New York, to
the late Joseph and Sylvia Goldberg. He served in the U.S.
Army Air Corps in World War II, having been stationed
in England. He attained the rank of sergeant.
Mr. Goldberg was graduated from Ithaca College, Ithaca,
New York. He was united in marriage to Gloria Roffman
in Atlanta, Georgia on December 18, 1955.
He came to Atlanta in 1953 to work for American Express.
He later worked for The Travel Mart and managed Rich's
Travel Agency at Rich's department stores. He was
a member of Congregation Beth Jacob, where he served
on the board of directors and was president of the men's
club. He served as president of the Atlanta chapter of
ASTA, the American Society of Travel Agents, and was
a member of SKAL, the International Association of
Travel and Tourism Professionals.
Mr. Goldberg was a voracious reader who was interested
in world politics, enjoyed working crossword puzzles
and adored his grandchildren, who loved their Zayda.
He is survived by his wife, Gloria; his son and his wife,
Steve and Leah; his daughter and her husband, Debra and
Reid Sifen; four grandchildren, Alexander Goldberg of
Atlanta, and Shaina, Menachem and Meir Sifen of Toronto,
Ontario.
Graveside services will be at 2:00 p.m., Monday,
April 27, at Crest Lawn Memorial Park, 2000 Marietta
Blvd., Atlanta. Rabbi Ilan Feldman will officiate.
In lieu of flowers, contributions can be made to
Congregation Beth Jacob.
The family would like to thank all of the staff at Emory
University Hospital for their help and support, especially
the doctors and nurses at the Cardiac Care Unit.
Dressler's Funeral Home is in charge of arrangements
---
Ernie Harwell and Red Barber talk about the recording:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EiZuVXYa43E
---
THE SHOT HEARD 'ROUND THE WORLD;
A Call Is Born, And Saved By a Mom
FROM: The New York Times (October 1st 2001) ~
By Richard Sandomir
On Oct. 3, 1951, Lawrence Goldberg made one change
in his routine before he left his home in Flatbush for his
job in Manhattan as a trip planner for the Automobile
Club of New York. He tuned his radio to WMCA 570
and told his mother to hit the record button of his
Webcor reel-to-reel tape recorder when Game 3 of the
Dodgers-Giants playoff reached the bottom of the ninth
inning.
''I knew I wouldn't be able to listen to the broadcast, and
I knew something was going to happen,'' said Goldberg,
now 76 and living in Atlanta. ''It was the third game of the
playoffs. That kind of game had to be climactic, even if it
was a blowout.''
Was Goldberg's mother, Sylvia, a baseball fan? No.
Was she paying strict attention to the game? No, he said,
''she was paying attention to her only son.''
Goldberg's planning preserved what would become one
of the most celebrated sports calls ever. Russ Hodges
was on WMCA in the ninth inning. It was Hodges's luck
to call the first three and last three innings on radio, with
his partner, Ernie Harwell, calling the middle three. They
reversed the roles on NBC-TV; Harwell thought national
television was the plum assignment, with a chance to
reach more people than radio.
Goldberg's mother started the tape rolling with Brooklyn
leading, 4-1. No one at WMCA did. Nor did anyone at
NBC. Red Barber's call on the Dodgers' station,
WMGM, went similarly unrecorded. Gordon
McClendon's radio call on the Liberty Network was
taped but largely unremembered.
The tape of Hodges caught his astonished, overwrought
21-second call, when the Giants' Bobby Thomson faced
Brooklyn's Ralph Branca:
''There's a long fly,'' he said. ''It's going to be, I believe.
The Giants win the pennant! The Giants win the pennant!
The Giants win the pennant! The Giants win the pennant!
Bobby Thomson hits into the lower deck of the left-field
stands. The Giants win the pennant! And they're going
crazy. They're going crazy!''
Don DeLillo captured Hodges's joy, and the coda of his
call, in his novel ''Underworld'':
''Then he raises a pure shout, wordless, a holler from the
old days -- it is fiddlin' time, it is mountain music on
WCKY at five-thirty in the morning. The thing comes
jumping right out of him, a jubilation, it might be heyy-ho
or it might be oh-boyyy shouted backwards or it might be
something else entirely -- hard to tell when they don't use
words.''
Harwell was in the booth beside Hodges but could not
hear his usually mild-mannered colleague's roar. Harwell's
call was much less dramatic.
''As I remember, it was, 'It's gone.' '' he said. ''And I just
let the picture take over. But immediately, as Andy Pafko
backed up against the wall, I had misgivings. It was
unusual for a home run to go into the lower deck.''
That, of course, is not the end of the story. How did the
world learn of Hodges's call, which was heard only
locally? Now, millions have heard it, and perhaps
believed it was from the TV broadcast because it is
played over newsreel footage of the game.
The night after the game, Goldberg wrote Hodges to
ask if anyone at WMCA had recorded the game; if not,
he would lend him his. Hodges replied quickly, and
used the tape to make records as Christmas gifts.
''Then, in the spring training of 1952, I got a call from
Russ,'' Goldberg said, ''saying that Chesterfield wants
to borrow the tape to distribute it to its dealers.''
The rewards for Goldberg's diligence were modest.
''Russ sent me a tape cartridge to thank me, and
Chesterfield sent me $100 and access to their box at
the Polo Grounds for the season,'' he said.
In later years, when Hodges related the tale of the tape,
he would refer to Goldberg as a Dodger fan who made
the tape so he could hear the voice of the Giants weep
when Brooklyn won. A good yarn, but untrue.
''I was a Giant fan from 1933 on, when I was 8,''
Goldberg said.
Hodges embellished the story during a 1967 interview,
saying that Goldberg and his family recorded the
bottom of the ninth ''for no reason, just for kicks.''
In the best tradition of a sports fabulist like Bill Stern,
Hodges said that Goldberg ''still works in a steakhouse
in New York -- he's a waiter.''
None of that was true, Goldberg said, although his friend
Louis Lerner was a waiter at Gallagher's Steak House,
then and now, a sports world hangout.
''Maybe,'' Goldberg said, ''Russ spoke to Louie.''
---
Thanks to Jack Morris from SABR for this obit.
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
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