The great Bob Wolff has passed at the age of 96. If ever there was a man I would hope to model my career after, it would be Bob.
You’ll see many eulogies and obits detailing his Hall of Fame accomplishments, the great games he called, the books he wrote, the events he described. At heart, he was an extremely modest man who never thought that his presence was more important than the games he covered. A renaissance man who was equally good at baseball, football, basketball and hockey. He gave the Westminster dog show his unique flair. He was a wonderful interviewer with a sense of humor about his subjects. And what other broadcaster can lay claim to talking with such icons as Babe Ruth, Jim Thorpe, Joe Louis and Ty Cobb? An education that included Duke and Harvard. A stint in the Navy in WW2.
I did a special program on WFAN with him twenty some years ago. It was a celebration of his career and I told him the producers would just gather up a bunch of his greatest hits and all we needed to do was vamp around them for the two hours. He had so many great stories that I knew the show would fly by with a minimum of effort.
Not good enough. Bob insisted I join him at his Nyack condo and spend at least a full afternoon in preparation. How could I refuse? His wife Jane made tuna sandwiches for lunch, while Bob meticulously outlined each segment, deferring to me on radio matters (as if I knew more than he did). He never wanted to boast or cast himself as bigger than life, nor was he resentful of young broadcasters who couldn’t approach his talent or accomplishments but received more attention.
I said on the air today that I could’t imagine Bob ever raising his voice in anger — he was that nice a gentleman. A marriage that thrived for over seventy years. A legendary broadcasting career that spanned eight decades. We shall never look upon his like again.
