Ever since the legendary Sherm Feller died in 1994, people have been telling Carl Beane he'd be a nice fit as the public address announcer at Fenway Park. Beane would just smile. The notion passed quickly.
Feller's voice and style (he did Red Sox games from 1967 to 1993) became part of the Fenway fabric. Since Feller's death, Leslie Sterling and Ed Brickley followed without much success. When the Red Sox, seeking a distinctive voice, decided to make a change this season, Beane figured maybe he should give it a shot after all.
He wasn't alone. A couple hundred people sent CDs and tapes to the Red Sox. Beane has been in radio for 31 years (including a stint at Framingham's WKOX) and is a freelance reporter who works for ESPN and CBS radio. He also did updates from Fenway for WBZ.
"For a lark I called the Red Sox and they said send a tape. I figured it'd get lost," says Beane. But when Kevin Shea, the team's media relations guy, offered to fly Beane to Fort Myers for a tryout, he couldn't get to the airport fast enough.
And he got booed the first day.
"When Jeremy Giambi came up to bat, I said `Jason ... then I paused (realizing the mistake), and said JER-E-MY, sorry, Giambi.' I got booed." Beane got it right the next time Giambi came up and the fans gave him a mock cheer. "I took a bow," he says.
But it was clear the Sox were impressed with Beane, who has been coming to Fenway Park since 1958 when he was 6 years old. Monday night the five finalists were brought to Fenway for a final audition. Beane got the job. He says he never felt pressure, even with TV cameras present. About a week earlier he had sat in the booth for the first time.
"I was very comfortable in Sherm's chair," says Beane. "I was just borrowing it for a while. It was the coolest thing. It just fit. I knew more than ever this is what I wanted to do."
Brickley sent Beane a note wishing him luck, a classy gesture Beane appreciated. Brickley took some heat in the media for his pedestrian voice. He had a highlight though, an emotional introduction of Ted Williams at the 1999 All-Star Game. It turned out to be Ted's final Fenway appearance.
Ever since the legendary Sherm Feller died in 1994, people have been telling Carl Beane he'd be a nice fit as the public address announcer at Fenway Park. Beane would just smile. The notion passed quickly.
Feller's voice and style (he did Red Sox games from 1967 to 1993) became part of the Fenway fabric. Since Feller's death, Leslie Sterling and Ed Brickley followed without much success. When the Red Sox, seeking a distinctive voice, decided to make a change this season, Beane figured maybe he should give it a shot after all.
He wasn't alone. A couple hundred people sent CDs and tapes to the Red Sox. Beane has been in radio for 31 years (including a stint at Framingham's WKOX) and is a freelance reporter who works for ESPN and CBS radio. He also did updates from Fenway for WBZ.
"For a lark I called the Red Sox and they said send a tape. I figured it'd get lost," says Beane. But when Kevin Shea, the team's media relations guy, offered to fly Beane to Fort Myers for a tryout, he couldn't get to the airport fast enough.
And he got booed the first day.
"When Jeremy Giambi came up to bat, I said `Jason ... then I paused (realizing the mistake), and said JER-E-MY, sorry, Giambi.' I got booed." Beane got it right the next time Giambi came up and the fans gave him a mock cheer. "I took a bow," he says.
But it was clear the Sox were impressed with Beane, who has been coming to Fenway Park since 1958 when he was 6 years old. Monday night the five finalists were brought to Fenway for a final audition. Beane got the job. He says he never felt pressure, even with TV cameras present. About a week earlier he had sat in the booth for the first time.
"I was very comfortable in Sherm's chair," says Beane. "I was just borrowing it for a while. It was the coolest thing. It just fit. I knew more than ever this is what I wanted to do."
Brickley sent Beane a note wishing him luck, a classy gesture Beane appreciated. Brickley took some heat in the media for his pedestrian voice. He had a highlight though, an emotional introduction of Ted Williams at the 1999 All-Star Game. It turned out to be Ted's final Fenway appearance.
Beane's voice will resonate at Fenway. It's crisp, clear and deep, his longtime radio background evident. He knows baseball has a pace to it that the PA announcer has to blend with.
"Of the four major sports," says Beane, "baseball is the only one where the fans keep score. They have to write things down. You have to announce things at a slower, clear pace so they can do that.
"I worked at a nursing home when I was young. When I handed out the meals, a lot of the old ladies were listening to the game and keeping score. I never forgot that."
And he'll never forget his late father, Alfred, taking him by bus from their home in Agawam to Fenway for the first time.
"I remember him saying when Ted Williams came up, `watch him because he's the best hitter you'll ever see.' When I was a kid, my father brought me to games. When I got in the business, I took him to games."
Alfred Beane's favorite player was Bobby Doerr. One of Carl's biggest thrills was introducing his dad to Doerr during spring training in the early '80s.
Opening Day at Fenway, hopefully, will be tomorrow. "I can't wait to get started," says Beane, now a resident of Holland, Mass. "I have a framed picture of my father on the wall that I'm going to take with me." Alfred Beane's kid behind the mike at Fenway Park. The old man must be beaming.
For over 40 years Carl Beane has been coming to Fenway. He's about to become part of the old ballpark. He's excited but undaunted. Fenway's new voice gets it.
"It's a responsibility, he says. "I embrace it. I understand it."
(Lenny Megliola is a News sports columnist)
