John Sterling was the perfect voice for the Yankees — and their fans

When you tune into a game to find out that John Sterling didn’t need to update the score New York Yankees “They’re losing,” I would tell my son.

“How did you know?” he will ask.

“Just listen to his voice,” I would respond.

Sterling’s sound was shaped by his despair, his despair, his joy, his happiness. Red Sox fans often complained that every Yankees victory they thought was close — Theeeeee Yankee win! — and I’ll tell anyone who knew Sterling to cover the team, that no, he was sincere about how he felt about the Yankees’ success — and that they won a lot during his time as a broadcaster. He had as many championship rings as Derek Jeter.

After learning of Vishwa Sterling’s death Monday morning, Michael Kay, his longtime booth partner, wrote, “He loved his life.”

Did he ever. Sterling arrived in the press box hours before each game, usually wearing a light-colored suit in the summer and a scarf in the spring or fall, carrying a briefcase, and he loved to gossip — about the team, about the players, about the writers. He wanted to know what you had heard and what you knew, and he designed each question as if it were open-ended, even when you knew it wasn’t. “Why does George Steinbrenner get so much criticism?” he asked in his deep baritone. “I just don’t understand it.”

He can laugh at himself. A few years ago, we had a “Baseball Tonight” podcast contest that invited fans to submit their best Sterling impersonations, and he graded each participant’s work, praising the enthusiasm — a true showman who understood that if his work was being discussed, it was a good thing.

What listeners sometimes miss, if they aren’t paying attention, is that while Sterling openly rooted for the Yankees, he also offered sledgehammer blot criticism when the team played poorly. He has voiced, at times, what Steinbrenner thinks about signing a struggling pitcher or an underperforming free agent. The Yankees’ grumbling was noted and explained, not ignored, by fans.

He would praise other team players, cheer for a spectacular play or effort. He admired the art that he described every day, good or bad. “You can’t be any other way,” Sterling once said.

Like any broadcaster in the booth for decades — and he called games for a variety of sports, including Boston Celtics legend Larry Bird’s record-setting performance against the Atlanta Hawks — he made calls that will live forever. I thought his best moment was remembered as the Rick Camp game — a rain-delayed, extra-innings game. New York Mets And Atlanta Braves July 4, 1985, which continued until the early hours of the morning. Both teams used their full rosters, leaving Atlanta to insert weak-hitting pitcher Rick Camp as a pinch hitter in the bottom of the 18th inning.

You didn’t need to know your score. You only have to hear Sterling’s voice to understand the absurdity of it all – and the improbability of what happened. “The Mets are rocking their outfielders,” he said, working with Ernie Johnson Sr “Arnie, if he hits a home run to tie this game,” Sterling laughed, “it will absolutely be certified as the most nutritious in the history of baseball.”

“And here’s the 0-2 pitch… and he’s hitting it to deep left! The hip goes back! It’s… gone! Holy cow! Oh my goodness! I don’t believe it! I don’t believe it! RICKPOCK!!”

“Remember what I just said?! This certifies this game as the scariest, wildest, most incredible game in history!”

Sterling’s disbelief was perfect, in a voice that often speaks for fans’ feelings.