The timing, the gravel, the meter, the unbridled enthusiasm of Rod Bramblett’s call of Creede Simpson’s two-out, go-ahead homer in the 9th inning of last night’s game against Clemson was as perfect as the hit itself.
Like, it really was.
I’ve felt it for Rod ever since those first strained imitations of The Fyffe, trying to reach that classic pitch, warbling.
I know he’s come a long way since then – I told him so one night, as he protected his children from a bearded stalker in the parking lot at Niffer’s at the Lake. But last night, he was there, he had it, home run.
You can see it and hear it right here.
Or… you know… right here:
…
Thanks to AuburnOrange for pointing the way to the memories.
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