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Bob Uecker

  • American athlete
  • Born January 26, 1935

Robert George Uecker ( YOO-kər; born January 26, 1934) is an American former Major League Baseball (MLB) player and current sportscaster, comedian, and actor. Facetiously dubbed "Mr. Baseball" by TV talk show host Johnny Carson, Uecker has served as a play-by-play announcer for Milwaukee Brewers radio broadcasts since 1971. He was honored by the National Baseball Hall of Fame with its 2003 Ford C. Frick Award in recognition of his broadcasting career.


I hope the fans have enjoyed listening as much as I've enjoyed doing the games. I don't ever go to the park where I don't have a good day. I don't like losing. But I don't think I ever go to the park where I have a bad day. I don't think once.




Not bragging by any means, but I could have done a lot of other stuff as far as working in films go and working in television... I had chances to do that stuff, but I like baseball, I really do.




The biggest thrill a ballplayer can have is when your son takes after you. That happened when my Bobby was in his championship Little League game. He really showed me something. Struck out three times. Made an error that lost the game. Parents were throwing things at our car and swearing at us as we drove off. Gosh, I was proud.




You know, I was once named Minor League Player of the Year... unfortunately, I had been in the majors for two years at the time.




In 1962 I was named Minor League Player of the Year. It was my second season in the bigs.




I used to soak my mitts in a bucket of water for about two days. Then I'd put a couple of baseballs in the pocket and wrap it up with a rubber band. Today you don't have to do that, because catchers' mitts are more like first baseman's gloves.




I think my top salary was maybe in 1966. I made $17,000 and 11 of that came from selling other players' equipment.




I just grew the hair on my back. Facial hair just wasn't appealing to me. I liked it on my back, though.




Hey, I think it's easy for guys to hit .300 and stay in the big leagues. Hit .200 and try to stick around as long as I did; I think it's a much greater accomplishment. That's hard.




Before broadcasting for 50-some years, I did TV, played 10 years in the big leagues, won a world championship - and played a big part in that, too, letting the Cardinals inject me with hepatitis. Takes a big man to do that.




How do you catch a knuckleball? You wait until it stops rolling, then go pick it up.




I knew when my career was over. In 1965 my baseball card came out with no picture.




Anybody with ability can play in the big leagues. But to be able to trick people year in and year out the way I did, I think that was a much greater feat.




On TV the people can see it. On radio you've got to create it.




Let's face it. Umpiring is not an easy or happy way to make a living. In the abuse they suffer, and the pay they get for it, you see an imbalance that can only be explained by their need to stay close to a game they can't resist.




The way to catch a knuckleball is to wait until it stops rolling and then pick it up.




I had a great shoe contract and glove contract with a company who paid me a lot of money never to be seen using their stuff.




Sporting goods companies pay me not to endorse their products.




When I looked at the third base coach, he turned his back on me.




If a guy hits .300 every year, what does he have to look forward to? I always tried to stay around .190, with three or four RBI. And I tried to get them all in September. That way I always had something to talk about during the winter.




People have asked me a lot of times, because I didn't hit a lot, how long a dozen bats would last me. Depending on the weight and model I was using at that time - I would say eight to 10 cookouts.




I didn't get a lot of awards as a player. But they did have a Bob Uecker Day Off for me once in Philly.




I did stand-up, weird and ignorant stuff about my career - anything for a laugh.




We were on for six years. We were in syndication for a while. It had its run. I still see the people from 'Mr. Belvedere,' too. We stay in touch.




Baseball hasn't forgotten me. I go to a lot of old-timers games and I haven't lost a thing. I sit in the bullpen and let people throw things at me. Just like old times.




Any teammate of mine that had a kid and a boy that was capable of playing baseball, I think I set a terrific example of 'Don't do this' and 'Don't do that.' And that's one of the things that I'm most proud of.




I signed a very modest $3,000 bonus with the Braves in Milwaukee. And my old man didn't have that kinda money to put out.




I had been playing for a while, and I asked Louisville Slugger to send me a dozen flame treated bats. But when I got it, I realized they had sent me a box of ashes.




Phil Niekro and his brother were pitching against each other in Atlanta. Their parents were sitting right behind home plate. I saw their folks more that day than they did the whole weekend.




When I came up to bat with three men on and two outs in the ninth, I looked in the other team's dugout and they were already in street clothes.




Where would I be without baseball? Who am I without baseball?




Sure, women sportswriters look when they're in the clubhouse. Read their stories. How else do you explain a capital letter in the middle of a word?




I was acting when I was playing baseball.




I hit a grand slam off Ron Herbel and when his manager Herman Franks came out to get him, he was bringing Herbel's suitcase.




I make fun of situations and try and find the humor in things, but it's never at the expense of the other guy.




I set records that will never be equaled. In fact, I hope 90% of them don't even get printed.



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