Waite Hoyt: The Sole Major League Mic Man to Speak Almost Solely in Past Tense

To celebrate the new year, we continue Curt Smith’s series, Voices of Summer, on baseball’s all-time broadcasters that will appear regularly through 2025. Today, Cincinnati Reds 1942-65 Voice Waite Hoyt, the sole major-league mic man to speak almost solely in the past tense.

By CURT SMITH

The ordinary announcer says, “Ground ball to the shortstop, who fields it throws to first.” Whatever else he was, Waite Hoyt was not ordinary: “The shortstop fielded it, threw to first, and the runner beat the throw,” he’d say. “The reason: “accuracy,” 1942-65 Cincinnati radio/TV Voice Waite Hoyt rasped. “As I speak to you, what happened a moment ago is gone.”

Raised in Brooklyn, Hoyt pitched for Erasmus Hall High School and in 1914 at age 15 joined the Dodgers’  archrival Giants. Will Wedge dubbed him “the aristocrat of baseball.” At first Waite seemed a commoner, making seven stops in the minors. In 1918, the lefty finally pitched a big-league inning, later signing with the Red Sox and making the Bronx Bombers in 1921.

“The secret to success as a pitcher is getting a job with the Yankees,” Hoyt quipped. The minstrel’s son also composed, danced, and sang at the Palace Theater. The road was more extempore. Once Waite trailed roommate Joe Dugan to a church. “Hi, pal,” said Hoyt, surprising him. What gave? “I’ve tried everything else,” said Dugan, lighting a candle. “I thought maybe this would help my hitting.”

“Then light one for me!” Hoyt said. “I’m pitching today.” Dugan did, but Waite was shelled.

“What happened?” the pitcher asked. Joe said, “Some bloody Protestant sneaked in and blew the candle out.” Hoyt bounced to seven clubs, including the Dodgers twice, and retired in1938, signing with a tobacco company, which put him on WMCA New York’s “Grandstand and Bandstand.” He had “developed a name,” Waite said, “and they thought I could help sales.”

In 1939, the Yanks began daily radio coverage. Sponsor Wheaties KO’d an audition,” not thinking ex-players able to speak adroitly.  Umpire George Moriarity knew better. “You’re out of your element,” Waite told him, disputing a call. “You should be a traffic cop so you could stand in the middle of the street with a badge on your chest and insult people with impunity.” Element? Impunity? From a jock? On the field?

In 1940, Dodgers Voice Red Barber made Waite Brooklyn’s pre/post-game host and analyst. “He’d never done baseball, but I thought he would do it [color] naturally.” Hoyt did, wanting more. By late 1941, WLW and WSAI Cincinnati aired the Reds. His agency, William Morris, called that city’s WKRC. “They wanted baseball, too,” he said, “and were looking for play-by-play.”

John Gunther once noted Cincinnati’s “stately and also sleepy quality.” Waite was a night owl., yet “found a happiness that I’d never known”—even with one being the loneliest number. In1946-51, Hoyt worked by himself, later airing the N.L.’s first radio/TV simulcast: “I did everything, even Burger Beer ads,” fusing Yankees past and Redlegs present with what was later termed “inside baseball.”

From 1944 to 1955, Waite’s Reds dredged the second vision. Strangers found solace in his tales told in  rain delays. “Ty Cobb and Tris Speaker and Ruth—Hoyt ran with Babe before he stopped drinking,” said general manager Gabe Paul. One story recalled Ruth’s 1948 death of cancer, Hoyt and Dugan helping carry his coffin from St. Patrick’s. “Lord,” moaned Joe, sweltering, “I’d give my right arm for a beer.” Murmured Waite: “So would the Babe.”

In 1956, Cincinnati placed third. The 1961 Reds won the pennant. Shakespeare said, “The past is prologue.” The World Series sired an ugly epilogue, New York ousting the Reds in five.  Hoyt manned NBC Radio. The secret to success still involved the Yanks. “They called us ragamuffins,” Waite said of Cincy. “Not much talent, but heart. The problem is that even heart gets old.“

The ‘61ers were “a conglomeration of castoffs who handed together for one last stand,” said an official. Waite’s ended by cutting a 1965 record, “Waite Hoyt’s Stories in the Rain.” The team held a Day for him in September. A year later Wiederman became the Reds’ beer sponsor. Hoyt, 66, joined Burger’s publicity staff. “I’m still telling stories, just now to groups, not on the air.”

The past tense still ran deep. In 1969, Waite’s 237-182 big-league record earned a spot in Cooperstown. Strangers exchanged such memories as Hoyt’s “There was the pitch! [Duke] Snider belted it to left field! [Gus] Bell went back and couldn’t get it!” On August 25, 1984, the present went down swinging. Waite died of heart trouble. He was 85 years old.

Next: The Voice who made “Open the window, Aunt Minnie” a household phrase, Rosey Rowswell.