Some kids dream of playing in the major leagues, but Lewis Kalb was always different. Growing up in Detroit in the 1950s, he had no interest in becoming the next Al Kaline or Jim Bunning.
He had his eyes set on a much more exclusive club, one that only hundreds had ever qualified for. Kalb wanted to be a broadcaster. The boy spent his nights listening to the deep drawl of Ernie Harwell, and after the family moved to Medford Lakes in 1965, the laid-back style of By Saam.
He quickly realized this would be a lofty goal. In the 1970s, Kalb served as a public address announcer for the hockey team at Hillsdale College in Michigan, and worked as a disc jockey for the local radio station.
Job opportunities weren’t coming. So he decided to pursue a more pragmatic career, in sales, and moved to Los Angeles in 1977 to work for Russell Stover Candies. But even then, he couldn’t shake his dream.
As Kalb drove thousands of miles up and down the California coast to peddle boxes of chocolate and other confections, it would be Vin Scully’s voice crooning through the car stereo.
“I would say, ‘Well, you’ve wanted to do this since age 12,’” Kalb recalled. “You can’t wait too much longer. Now I’m 27, 28 years old. So, if you’re going to pursue it, if you’re going to give it a shot, that’s the time to do it.”
He moved to State College in 1980 to enroll in broadcasting classes at Penn State, working as an overnight disc jockey with some public address appearances on the side. In 1984, Kalb was hired as the afternoon drive host for WZBZ 99.3 in Atlantic City, a role he’d hold for two years.
The aspiring play-by-play man transitioned into freelance work after that, as a Philadelphia-based reporter for WFAN and WNAW in New York, but never found a full-time gig. The closest he got was in 1996, when the Sixers held open auditions for a public address announcer.
Kalb knew he’d be competing against “heavy hitters,” in his telling, so he decided to get plenty of reps in. About a mile away from his house in Medford Lakes was a local recreation center, Vaughan Hall.
The Detroit native began announcing kids’ basketball games, multiple times a week. He didn’t get the Sixers job, but found his calling in the process.
“It was my volunteer niche,” Kalb said. “It was the greatest thing in the world. The response I got from the kids, the parents, the grandparents, everybody, they loved it so much.
“Because here I was, announcing their kids, like it was NBA basketball. Playing the music in the timeouts, pumping them up with the intro music, just like the Chicago Bulls used to introduce their championship teams.
“And it was so overwhelming that I said, ‘You know what? This is what I’m going to do to volunteer and give back to my community.’ And 30 years later, I’m still doing it and loving every second of it.”
For those 30 years, Kalb and his dulcet tones were the best-kept secret in Medford Lakes. Not anymore. On Wednesday night, in the third inning of the Phillies-Nationals game, sandwiched between Scott Franzke and Larry Andersen, the 73-year-old took to the air.
He’d paid $22,000 for the opportunity in the Phillies’ Phantastic Auction. And to Kalb, a substitute teacher at Neeta Middle School, it was worth every penny.
The septuagenarian had only minimal live play-by-play experience; about 10 high school baseball games, if that. He’d also done some work on YouTube, holding a camera in one hand, and a mic in the other, while narrating various local sporting events.
But decades of Scully and Harwell and Saam and, of course, Harry Kalas, had given him an education unlike any other. And when he started to speak, that old-school sound came pouring out.
Franzke noticed it immediately. The Phillies have held their auction for 14 years, which has brought all sorts of voices into the booth. But the team broadcaster had never heard an auction winner like this.
Some past auction segments would become de facto interviews, with Franzke and Anderson asking the winner questions about their fandom to fill time. In this case, they barely had to talk at all.
Kalb had studied so much he didn’t look at his rain-soaked sheet of paper. He had a natural rhythm and feel for what was unfolding in front of him.
“He was, for the most part, with the play,” Franzke said. “And I think anytime, [with] someone who hasn’t practiced it, that’s the first thing that happens, is they get behind the play. Which is fine. It’s a fun thing; we’re not auditioning, it’s an auction.
“But for a lot of people, that’s the thing that you notice. The ground ball is on its way to a position and a lot of people are checking their notes. Who is playing that position? What position is it? But he was right on it. Right from the very beginning.”
Kalb had spent the previous week rehearsing for his segment. He had studied each Phillies and Nationals player, making sure he knew their bio, and how to pronounce their name.
Every night, he practiced play-by-play in front of a small audience on Facebook Live, while watching the Phillies game on TV. That might’ve helped him a bit. But it was also clear, to anyone listening on Wednesday, that the 73-year-old has a gift.
And while that gift never led to a job in the booth, it did give a lot of joy to a small borough in South Jersey.
“I didn’t have a career,” Kalb said, “but I had my moment. And I know that’s something that for the rest of my life, I will always cherish.”
