What Al McCoy meant to a diehard Phoenix Suns fan like me
I did not grow up a Dodgers fan. But I had my own Vin Scully as a Phoenix Suns fan in the form of Al McCoy.
My dad, ironically, did grow up a Dodgers fan — back when they were the Brooklyn Dodgers, his hometown.
When I was little, my dad and I bonded over sports.
A lot of my best memories of childhood are from watching the Suns hoop with my dad.
Suns games somehow brought us all together
I remember when a wacky vendor with clown-like red glasses selling red rope asked me for my name.
I was a shy child and sheepishly said, “Ben.”
He turned to the crowd and yelled, “Hey, everybody! Say hello to Benjamin!”
Our section cheered. I was mortified.
I remember when a Suns dancer asked me to come out to the court and dance with her. I was maybe 7 or 8? That also got a nice cheer from the crowd.
There’s just something about sports that brings people together.
Al McCoy was part of so many memories
I got to see Amar’e Stoudemire score 50 points in a game.
I got to see my dad interact with Stephon Marbury and ask him where in New York he was from (Coney Island).
I got to see Steve Nash’s “Seven Seconds or Less” Suns under Mike D’Antoni change the game of basketball with their breakneck-paced play, three-point shooting and spacing.
And there, all the while, was Al.
No, I don’t mean my dad (who also could shorten his name to Al), but Mr. McCoy.
“The Voice of the Suns.”
He had a perfect voice for the game
McCoy was the Hall of Fame sportscaster who spent 51 years on the sidelines calling Suns games.
He was the unassuming, short-statured fella with the most perfect radio voice you’ve ever heard.
The genius behind such catchphrases as “SHAZAM!” “Zing Go the Strings!” “Ohh, brother!” and “Heartbreak Hotel!”
The guy who wasn’t afraid to call out the referees on air if he felt strongly enough that they missed a call (we Suns fans certainly felt that a lot over the years, thanks in large part to former referee Tim Donoghy).
When I was young, I wasn’t permitted to stay for the entire game, so when my dad and I would head out after halftime or, if I was lucky, early in the fourth quarter, we’d listen to Al McCoy on the way home in the car.
Letting McCoy put a little bow on every Suns win — or sometimes more often, loss.
I saw McCoy just before his last game
On the Saturday before the Suns’ eventual series exit and McCoy’s final hurrah calling the Suns, I was out to dinner with my girlfriend, and in walked who else but Al McCoy.
I couldn’t believe he was in the same place I was and kept awkwardly looking over my shoulder at him.
Finally, I mustered the courage to say something, knowing I’d regret it for the rest of my life if I didn’t take the chance.
“Excuse me, Al?”
Out came that sheepish kid again who was embarrassed by the red rope guy.
“I just have to say, Go Suns.”
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McCoy nodded, smiled, gave me a wave and said, “thank you.”
I’m sure it was one of thousands of interactions McCoy has had over the years with his fans, Suns fans.
On his final broadcast he mentioned how doing radio brought him closer to the blind community, bringing the game I love to people who can’t see it, but who can see it through Al’s confident and steady words.
That’s the type of guy he is. Just a genuine, kind soul who still manages to give back to the community he’s already given so much to through our shared love of basketball.
When things got bad, we listened to Al
The Suns. Going to games with my pops. Al McCoy.
That’s a solid encapsulation of my childhood as a Suns fan growing up in Phoenix.
McCoy wrapped up his final call on May 11.
And there we were, me and my dad, sitting on the couch, having turned off the abomination of a Game 6 performance the team put forth in McCoy’s final outing — yet another playoff-run-ending drubbing, this time to the deserving Denver Nuggets.
We muted the TV, changed the channel and put on the radio to listen to McCoy call it to the end one last time.
I’ll miss those times, but I’ll always cherish the memories.
Thank you, Al.
(Both of you.)
Ben Leibowitz is a digital producer for Gannett and a diehard Phoenix Suns fan.
This article originally appeared on Arizona Republic: Phoenix Suns announcer Al McCoy meant everything to fans like me
