Mike Scandura
Minor League News
Pawtucket, R.I. – Our Broadcaster of the Year is Toledo's Jim Weber, the Cal Ripken Jr. of minor league baseball broadcasting.
Weber, who's in his 30th season behind the microphone, has broadcast 3,680 consecutive Mud Hens games through August 24, and the end is nowhere in sight.
"Some minor league publication [That would be us, Jim - ed.] has been trying to track it down, and as far as they know, I've got the longest consecutive-game (broadcast) streak in history," Weber said during a chat when Toledo made its annual trek to Pawtucket. "I started in '75 and haven't missed one game.
"There have been days when I've been sick and could barely talk, but I've always managed to do at least part of the game. I'm sure there have been some times when I had laryngitis, the bane of all broadcasters, but I was still there. People have always told me I have to keep the streak alive."
The Road Back to the Air
Though the current generation of Mud Hens fans may find it hard to believe there was a time when Toledo's games weren't broadcast.
Way back in 1969, Weber was a drummer at a local nightspot when a local DJ approached him about being a partner in broadcasting high school football and basketball games.
"The guy told me the pay might not be much, but I could have the job if I wanted it," recalled Weber. "When he quit I took over. By then, I had the bug to stay in radio."
Mud Hens games were broadcast locally from 1965, when the famed franchise was revived, through 1970. When the contract expired, Toledo was off the air.
In 1975, Weber, high school experience in hand, had an idea: To bring back the Mudhens’ play-by-play.
"I felt somebody ought to revive it," he said. "I knew during summertime that radio revenue wasn't the greatest. So, let's try a weekend schedule to start. I put a deal together and only did 52 games my first year (1975)."
That deal derailed when the station was sold prior to the 1976 season. Weber approached WSPD, which was Storer Broadcasting's top station and one of the oldest stations in the country.
"(Toledo's) general manager (Charlie Senger) told me I'd be crazy to talk with (WSPD) because he tried and they refused him," recalled Weber. "After I told him I was going to talk with these people, he bet me if I did get anything on the air, he would send my wife and me to a nice restaurant and we could run up any tab we wanted."
"The station's general manager liked it because I didn't TELL him what he should do," said Weber. "Instead, I ASKED him what he thought about doing Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday games. In 1976 we put 80 games on that station, and my wife (Kay) and I ran up a $62 bill at that restaurant…back then [which is] like $180 now!"
After a "friendly split" with WSPD, Weber sold the idea of broadcasting the Mud Hens' full schedule to WMTR-FM, which carried the games until Fifth Third Field opened in 2002.
That's when Mud Hens games really went uptown - to the local ESPN station, WLQR (Sports Radio 1470, The Ticket).
"Our first year we were the station's highest-rated program except for two Ohio State football games," said Weber.
The Mud Hens have seldom qualified for the International League playoffs. Yet Weber, who's also been Toledo's traveling secretary for 20 years, always finds a way to keep Toledo fans tuned in.
"The greatest compliment I've ever received was when a fan said 'I've never heard anyone make a game so exciting with a lousy team on the field," said Weber. "I've received that compliment a few times when we've had bad years.”
While he accents the positive, Weber doesn’t eliminate the negative. "[I]f somebody screws up, I will talk about it."
He was a solo act until 1987, when Frank Gilhooley signed up for home games. Still, Weber plows through 80 games like a verbal steam engine.
"It's a talent you're not born with but you have to develop," said Weber. "You have to be a 'motor mouth'. I have no problem with that.”
In a town connected by the hip to the Cleveland Indians, whose rep has been the butt of jokes and feature films like Major League, Weber keeps the Hens broadcasts upbeat because that’s just the way that he’s wired.
“I've been upbeat. I've never dreaded coming to the park. I could have a personal problem, but if you were listening to my broadcast you'd think I was the happiest guy in the world."
Weber maintains his "happy" exterior even under adverse circumstances.
In the days when the minors weren’t big business, a 1976 game against Pawtucket was bumped to a recreation field in nearby Attleboro, Mass to make room for an amateur tournament.
"Thank God it didn't rain because the game was played on an open field and I sat at a card table next to the backstop. And the phone line was stretched across a tree somewhere,” recalled Weber. "Joe Lis, who held our home run record, hit one out in that game. After he crossed the plate, he ran up to me and yelled 'Hi, Mom' because my mike was right there."
Weber had a shot at the show in Charm City in 1990. “I almost got the Baltimore job," said Weber. "Thanks to an agent I knew who had a few contacts, he got me in the front door. (Then-Orioles lead broadcaster) Jon Miller even called my house. But they took somebody else.
"I never aggressively went after it. And I hate to say this but when you get up there everybody's after your job."
The crowing rooster in the Hen’s house is a job that sits well with Weber, and keeps him close to home.
"I never really wanted to change roots, and if you get to the majors, most likely you're going to have to move," said Weber. "My (two) daughters (Christine and Mary) were raised here and I've got two grandkids in the area.
"There's no pressure here and nobody's trying to stab you in the back. And during the winter, since I'm the traveling secretary, I book all the hotels, airlines and bus transportation. I've got this job as long as I want it."
Weber is a fixture in Toledo. While he may never have the notoriety of Red, Harry, or Vinny, he will have two distinctions unique to broadcasters in the minor leagues. He will be a bobble head and a Ralphie winner, all in the same year.
