COLUMN: Music to my ears — The meaning of sound in sports

Not every story has to be a grandiose adventure with airtight theming and social commentary. Sometimes we just want to, for lack of a better example or phrase, watch a tight 90-minute action or comedy movie without all the depth and subterfuge and get on with our lives. 

Maybe that applies to sports columns, too. I don’t think I should have to make a point every week, especially when my opinion is pretty far from the end-all-be-all when it comes to athletics.

I’ve had a rough tumble with COVID-19 for the past week, too, so perhaps I’ve earned a bit of simplicity (read: indulgence?) in this week’s go-round.

So here’s some recent examples I’ve found of one of my favorite things that I feel sometimes flies under the radar — music in and about sports.

Thank you for sunshine (and Crazy Train)

Cooped up in my apartment above the garage of two very kind Mercer professors I rent from with the MLB trade deadline looming, I spent my quarantine desperately hoping for the Braves to make a move to address their injury woes — not to mention watching Atlanta lose six straight games to start the second half (if only that had been a coronavirus-induced fever dream).

Of course, general manager Alex Anthopoulous proceeded to swoop in and make at least one move, bringing in fan favorite Jorge Soler from the Giants along with former Braves reliever Luke Jackson. That was the well-loved Atlanta GM’s only move this time, though. 

In the meantime, the Seattle Mariners — a second team for me ever since they drafted Kyle Lewis, 2020 AL Rookie of the Year and Mercer baseball legend — traded for postseason hero Randy Arozarena.

Arozarena was cool when he was in Tampa, but coming to Seattle makes him even cooler. The Mariners were on the road for his debut, though, which got me thinking: what’s Randy’s walk-up song?

I love keeping track of walk-up music. I love Ozzie Albies’ proclivity for Pop Smoke and Sean Murphy bumping a Paul Wall track, but my favorite just might be Spencer Strider having the speakers blast Led Zeppelin as he warms up.

I was surprised to find that Arozarena’s is a song called Beautiful Day — not the U2 anthem, but a tune featuring a hook with what sounds like a young kid declaring his gratitude for sunshine and rain, among other things.

A little weird, honestly, though I like the character it shows.

Nothing could ever rival Chipper’s choice of Crazy Train, of course, which would send thousands into a frenzy back when the Braves still played at the Ted.

The Macon Bacon play all sorts of whacky music during their games as well, not just as walk-up music. Between each inning, hijinks abound as the crowd competes in games — anything ranging from passing hula-hoops along their interlocked bodies to hunting down random objects in an effort to win merch — with music fit to match.

Pigskin pregame tunes

But some high school baseball game’s around Macon also provided some unexpectedly fun walk-up songs. Some folks groan at the concept of intro music at that young a stage, but it was contagious when FPD fans started to clap along when a Latin tune played ahead of one batter — I’m almost certain it was standout shortstop prospect Keon Johnson.

The music at high school football games is another thing I’m looking forward to. While the schools may not all have specific hype music like some college programs do, the marching bands around here tend to put on a show, much to the chagrin of one of my coworkers who shall remain unnamed.

Whenever I got to cover a high school football game when I was at The Macon Telegraph, there was a certain feeling I always got in the press box — the soft sound of the crowd filing into the stadium and the speakers playing pop or country music as the atmosphere built reminded me I was about to get to dig into a high school football game.

There’s great fight songs as well, one of the most passionate and also most baffling among them being Rocky Top as the fight song for the Stratford Eagles. My colleague Ed Grisamore assures me there’s a story to be had there.

Then there’s Mercer, blaring out “Welcome to the Jungle” by Guns N’ Roses as the players come storming onto the field each home game from underneath a giant inflatable bear adorned in a Mercer jersey.

College football might win the battle of the gridiron music-wise. The new college football video game (which I’ve been dying to play) took the time to integrate iconic music from different stadiums — social media has been flooded recently with digital renditions of Virginia Tech’s pregame ritual set to Metallica and other school traditions.

As much as I despise the Gamecocks, South Carolina’s use of the song “Sandstorm” late in games always makes my hair stand up. Luckily Clemson has outclassed the Gamecocks in most sports lately, so no need to worry about that.

Then there’s a different type of music, that of the game itself.

Baseball is an auditory experience as much as it is a visual one. Listening to a football game on the radio would not entertain me in the slightest unless it was a must-see game and I didn’t have a way to actually see it.

There’s a reason our national pastime works so well over just the airwaves — the crack of the bat, the snap of the mitt taking in a fastball, crowds roaring every time a deep flyball goes airborne. That’s music to my ears.

Commentators factor into that, too. Sometimes I miss the voice of Chip Caray from my childhood, but I really like Brandon Gaudin and the new crew, and Ben Ingram on the radio is no slouch either, though it’s hard for anyone to come close to the likes of Skip, Pete and Don in the 1990s. 

A coworker and I regularly reference John Sterling, the zany wordsmith who called Hawks games long before he became nationally-known as a Yankees broadcaster. We try to coin our own Sterling-isms about inner office workings, though nothing we craft will be as fun to shout as “Dominique, magnifique!”

The bottom line is, I love the sounds of the game. Though if there’s one thing to take from this, maybe it’s just that I want the Braves to trade for someone with intriguing walk-up music as they get into the batter’s box.