Reds on Radio

During the summer of 1923, in search of programming variety, WLW had begun to do shows by remote, tying into the phone lines to transmit from locations outside the studio. The earliest such broadcast was done from Cincinnati's Hotel Sinton, where Paul Whiteman and his Café de Paris Orchestra performed on Thursday evenings.

Shortly after that broadcast, Lewis Crosley had a thought of his own that would have consequences as far reaching as any of Powel's ideas.

He took a trip to Redland Field.

He took a microphone with him.

As he would explain later to a family member, he'd been looking for an opportunity to further field-test the station's remote equipment. He chose Redland Field as the setting for his experiment for reasons that are now lost to us. Perhaps the ballpark, out on the western edge of town, provided a unique set of transmission difficulties. Perhaps station engineers had other variables they were determined to solve. Perhaps Lewis simply wanted an excuse to take in a ball game. He and Powel had been fans of the hometown team since their childhood days in College Hill.

Regardless of the reason, he was there at the ballpark, with all the apparatus required, and after a relatively simple set-up, he sat down behind the microphone and called balls and strikes for the fifth, sixth, and seventh innings. Then, having established to his satisfaction that everything was in working order, he pulled the plug on the broadcast, packed up his equipment, and returned to the Crosley plant...

...Where the phones, he found, were ringing off the hook. WLW listeners demanded to know why the station hadn't aired the rest of the game.

Lewis began wondering the same thing.

He and Powel talked it over. Lewis made a phone call to Reds owner Gary Herrmann, and plans were made for a closer association between the Crosley brothers and the team.

* * * *

On April 15, 1924, the Reds opened a new season. The first game, as always, was played in Cincinnati, home of the first professional baseball team.

That year, it was the Reds against the Pirates.

And that year, the game was on the radio.

Lewis's phone call to Gary Herrmann the previous summer had resulted in WLW being granted permission to broadcast on Opening Day, as well as a handful of other contests throughout the year. Engineers from the station set up a microphone and power amplifier on top of the grandstand, right alongside several hundred other fans. It was crowded; it was hot; it was noisy. The excitement was palpable, not just in the stands, but everywhere a radio signal could be picked up in the Cincinnati area. Thousands tuned in. Receivers went on in Cincinnati's City Hall and in the Department of Health and across the river in the Campbell County Sheriff's office in Newport, Kentucky.

WLW's Opening Day broadcast started at noon, with Alvin Plough at the microphone. He entertained listeners by "describing interesting events that transpired in the park." It seems likely that the word "Crosley" crossed his lips more than once as well. At game time - 2:45 p.m. - Robert Stayman took over for Plough and did his best to describe the action as it occurred. The art of baseball play-by-play was not much more evolved than that of ringside commentary. Nonetheless, the broadcast was a smashing success; it ended on a high note, with the Reds beating the Pirates 6-5.

The rest of the year didn't go as well for the team. The Reds finished in fourth place with a respectable 83-70 record, ten games out of the top spot, which was occupied by the New York Giants, but the previous year's second-place finish had filled Cincinnati with pennant fever. The team featured a strong pitching staff - led by future Hall of Famer Eppa Rixsey, Dolf Lugue and young phenom Pete Donohue - and a potent lineup featuring future Hall of Fame outfielder Edd Rousch, catcher Bubbles Hargrave, and rookie sensation Hughie Critz. But the sudden death of manager Pat Moran just before the season began cast a cloud over the club the entire year, which ended in the same terrible way, with the death of first baseman and team captain Jake Daubert shortly after the season ended. Despite the tragic deaths and the disappointing record, 1924 marked a monumental turning point in the history of the team. The Reds were on the radio - and have been ever since.

The next year's Opening Day broadcast featured yet another unique moment. WLW once again carried the game, but one of the announcers was a very tall, distinguished-looking fellow who seemed distinctly out of place perched high atop the grandstand, where the equipment had been set up. He was Powel Crosley, owner of the station and one of the most powerful men in the city. A life-long Reds fan, he simply couldn't resist the temptation to call a few innings himself.

[ return to top ]