One of my favorite comments about journalists comes from the movie “When Harry Met Sally.” When Sally tells Harry in the opening scene that she wants to be a journalist, he looks at her strangely.

“So you can write about things that happen to other people?” This cynical exchange makes the life of a journalist sound somewhat depressing. Playing second fiddle to the world may not be all that endearing of a prospect.

In sports, one of the most visible aspects of this are the sportscasters that bring us the athletes and games that are thrust into our lives via television or radio.

As it turns out, sportscasters can become symbols of moments. Whether it’s Al Michaels asking a crowd whether they believe in miracles at the olympics, or Russ Hodges screaming “The Giants won the pennant! The Giants won the pennant!,” sportscasters have the power to turn the good into great, and the great into classic.

Growing up in Cleveland, I was able to listen to some of the best broadcasters in sports. including Herb Score.

Score was a former Indians’ pitcher who had his career derailed by a baseball to the eye. No one knows what would have happened had the injury not taken place, but many speculate a hall of fame career would have been in the left hander’s future. As it was, Score was forced to end his baseball career prematurely, and ended up calling Indians games for thirty years. Cleveland Indians fans grew up with Score. While the Indians were horrible, you could always count on the soothing positive voice that was coming from the speakers.

If Herb was depressed by the teams woes, he never let us in on it.

Score wasn’t a great broadcaster in the technical sense, but he connected with fans of several generations by never talking down to listeners and letting the sounds of the game be the story more than his own voice.

Too often these days, sportscasters try to be the game. Too many talk about everything, uncomfortable with even a moment of silence.

Herb Score was not like that.

Fans who listened to him could hear the game. They not only knew what was going on, but heard everything from the crack of the bat to the voices of the loud beer vendors at Cleveland Stadium.

Score is remembered by many for his miscues. I remember listening to a game in 1996 where he was calling a ball hit to the outfield.

“Line drive basehit centerfield, Lofton goes over and makes the catch. One out.”

When Herb made a mistake, he corrected it and moved on. He was human, and he knew it.

Score broadcasted games until 1997, when he retired. His last game was game seven of the 1997 World Series, which the Indians lost.

In retrospect, it may have been a fitting end. Score called more Indians’ losses than anyone in history, he should have been called the most frustrating.

Since he retired, Spring Training has not been the same. This is not a knock on Cleveland’s current sportscasters. Tom Hamilton, Mike Hegan and Matt Underwood are all dependable and good to listen to.

It’s just that when a legend has left, it’s hard to forget. Score told us what happened to others and nothing else. We wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.