Jimmy Dudley was know for his voice; Tom Hamilton has that unending command

To celebrate the 2025 season, we continue Curt Smith’s series, Voices of Summer, on
baseball’s all-time broadcasters that will appear regularly through the year. Today,
perhaps the Cleveland American League franchise’s most beloved Voice, Jimmy
Dudley.

By CURT SMITH

Point. In 1948, Cleveland drew a big-league record 2,620,627 and won its first World Series since 1920. “For someone my age [then 39],” said rookie announcer Jimmy Dudley, “it was Utopia.” Counterpoint. The 1960-67 Indians never drew a million people or placed as high as third.

“The longer I stayed, the worse they played,” laughed Dudley, who won the Hall of Fame’s Ford C. Frick Award for broadcast excellence in 1997. Ohio-born hurler Phil Niekro was not surprised. “We had pitchers Early Wynn, Bob Feller, and Mike Garcia. But Jimmy was as big a hero.” Dudley died in 1999 of Alzheimer’s Disease
compounded by a stroke. To many, he still meant “Wait Till Next Year [again].”

Born in Alexandria, Virginia, Jimmy moved to Charlottesville as a boy. At the University
of Virginia, he majored in chemistry and was hired by DuPont. Trying radio, Dudley
joined WOL Washington: “I was opposite Arthur Godrey. Marconi had more listeners.”
He then took an Army Air Force plane to India in World War II for U.S. operations
intelligence.

Back in the States, Dudley joined WJW Cleveland in 1946 for football and hockey. Next
season, he called a sandlot exhibition at the Tribe’s Municipal Stadium. Luckily, hearing
him, a Carling Brewing sponsor told Indians owner Bill Veeck “That’s who I want to do
our games.” Barnum Bill obliged. “‘Get the fans interested!’ he’d roar,” said Jimmy, who
complied.

Under Veeck, belly dancers roamed the stands. Joe Early wrote that he, “the average
fan,” deserved a night. Bill gave him a car and boat and “stuck S&H green stamps under certain seats, signaled, and had everybody close theirs to see if they won,” said Dudley. “Manhattan never heard such noise.” Municipal was loud enough: in 1948, an American League day, night, and twin-bill record 71,181, 78,392, and 82,781, respectively, filled it. Later Jimmy rued not quitting while ahead.

The Tigers and White Sox networks carried Dudley’s 1948 radio feed of the Red Sox-
Indians one-game playoff. Ironically, he had dogged Boston’s Ted Williams all year like a
bone. Bald since his twenties, Dudley finally summoned courage to seek an interview.
“You skinhead,” roared Williams. “I thought you’d never ask.” Each wondered why the
Sox pitched journeyman Denny Galehouse, not other starters.

Cleveland romped, 8-3, Birdie Tebbets making the final out. “[Ken] Keltner moves in,
knocks it down, finds the handle. Here’s the throw to [Eddie] Robinson . . . and the ball
game is over!” said Dudley. “Yes, the Cleveland Indians win their first American league
pennant in 28 years. And man, oh, man, how I’d like to be down on Euclid Avenue right
now!” Next week a downtown parade feted the Series victory.

A year later Dudley married the actress who played Laura Lane on radio’s “Captain
Midnight.” In 1954, he called Mutual Radio’s All-Star Game from Municipal: A.L.,11-9.
That September 12, a record 84,587 jammed the oval. Wynn, Feller, Garcia, and Bob
Lemon forged an Arthurian Big Four. Cleveland finished a league record 111-43. Its
Classic was less Camelot than charade. “We own the world, then get swept by the
Giants,” Jimmy mused. “The franchise was never the same.”

Each Dudley broadcast began, “Hello, baseball fans everywhere,” ending, “So long and
lots of luck, ya hear?” A listener heard “The string is out [3-2 count],” “stay-alive fouls,”
and “come on down to the old ball orchard.” Wrote Hal Lebowitz: “You could hear the
molasses.” Each post-game guest received an electric razor. “I’m just glad it’s not a
straight razor,” said skipper Jimmy Dykes. “Watching some of our players play can drive
you to cut your throat.”

Five times the 1951-56 Indians finished second. Point: 1956 attendance fell to 722,256.
Counterpoint: The 1959 Tribe placed second, Dudley feeling they might win next a
pennant. (They finally did, in 1995.) In 1957, Bob Neal left TV to join Jimmy on radio.
Dudley was soft and quick. Neal was loud and brash. They never talked on the air, or
off. Said wireless host Pete Franklin: “Their chill could cause pneumonia.”

Jimmy lit what warmth there was of the 1960s Indians. “He had a smile in his voice and
a warm handshake for visitors,” wrote Terry Pluto of the 1967 National Sportswriters and
Sportscasters Association “Sportscaster of the Year.” In 1968 Dudley was fired. “We
were not dissatisfied,” a flagship WERE lackey said. “It’s just a changing world.” Jimmy
became the expansion Seattle Pilots’ 1969 Voice. Each lasted one year.

Dudley died at 90 at a Tucson convalescent home. A blind boy in Ontario once penned
letters in Braille transcribed by his father. They ended, “God bless you, Jimmy, and
remember you are my eyes.” Cleveland’s broadcast first among equals likely watches
from above.

Next: “The Old Scotchman,” Gordon McLendon, voicing baseball’s first network series,
Liberty Radio’s “Game of the Day.”