The Wet Country Roads Home With Steve And Jack

COUNTRY ROADS SOMEWHERE EAST OF MORGANTOWN – I was grumpy. I was annoyed. I was bothered by the rain even if I was no longer sitting – or standing or walking – in it. 

The very storm that had caused us to leave the game early had now encircled our black Honda CRV, a trusty steed over the years to my wife Anna and me, creating all that more of a challenging drive back to Maryland along the roads John Denver had once sung about. (To be fair, it was the interstate but close enough.)  

We were on our way back home because our dogs Marty and Bolt were back at home, and facing the reality of a pending unending weather delay, it had foiled the plan to drive to the game, watch the game and then leave immediately after the game was over – all within a comfortable window for them to be home alone. 

Albeit, it was a tiny inconvenience in the grand scheme of life caused by something I could not control – or probably could have planned better for. Then again, I typically do not handle those things well. 

I, too, was grumpy that Penn State was facing a weather delay like the one it experienced on an autumn weekend in East Lansing, Michigan back in 2017. We were there that afternoon that turned into evening and the flashbacks of that day rolled through my head as we rolled over the ridges and valleys of the eastern part of West Virginia and western part of Maryland. 

“They said the game will resume at 4:23,” my copilot said as she styled her motion sickness glasses. 

In my head what would come next was going to be a repeat of that day in Spartan Stadium. There was only proof that Penn State would come out flat and while it was week one, the relatively unknown of this squad would backfire, leading to another stunning collapse thanks in part to the weather gods. 

I raced through my head, fearing that in my endless list of gameday superstitions I’ve developed over the years (read: coping mechanisms) and with it being week one, I had forgotten something. 

In the midst of that drive and rain and anxiousness about the outcome of the game and Twitter updates from my copilot, two familiar voices supplied the comfort.

Steve and Jack. 

Steve Jones and Jack Ham have hit 25 seasons of calling Penn State football together and while they might not be the central figures in the gameday experience, they’re just as powerful of a part of Saturdays in the fall as the Blue Band, the Nittany Lion himself and trips to the Creamery. 

Saturday’s drive back home reminded me of that. 

I’ve said this before – in fact when we interviewed Steve on the podcast last year, I brought this up to him. 

Steve’s voice is the voice that I hear, or rather see, football with. 

Back when we were crammed on the concourse of Milan Puskar Stadium, I began to do the math. It wasn’t worth it to stick around because it’d be long for the dogs. I consulted Anna with the plan that we should head home. As we made our exit strategy to leave, Anna asked me if I had wanted her to drive so that I could watch the game on my phone. 

“No, we will listen to Steve and Jack. I can understand them better than anyone.” 

It was true. I can understand the picture Steve paints with his words – even if he’s got more to keep up with thanks to Andy Kotelnicki’s hectic presnap offense – and understand the importance of a play thanks to the explanations from Jack. 

Listening to those two was nothing new for me. Growing up and playing hockey in various parts of the state, my mom would chase the games on the radio in our silver Toyota Corolla – also a trusty steed. Usually at some point on Saturdays, we’d listen to even brief parts of their broadcasts if we weren’t in Beaver Stadium. Even now, she will text that she “had to turn the damn announcers off” because they were “freakin’ terrible.” 

That is code for she is listening to Steve and Jack. 

In general, I think we underlook and undervalue the importance of radio announcers for our sports teams. After all, many of my sports experiences growing up were listening to Bill Hillgrove orate the Steelers defense and Mike Lange remark about the Penguins before switching allegiances further south to Dave Mishkin in Tampa. 

And of course, Steve and Jack. 

Particularly with college football games – and the passion that goes into them – there is a legitimate connection fans share with the radio crew. They are uniquely yours and with Steve and Jack, you can feel that experience. 

Jones usually plays it down the center. He understands and recognizes the gravity of the game – and offers fairness to both sides and he makes it a point to never use the royal “we.” Sure, there’s maybe more inflection in his voice when Penn State does something big but at other moments, he will raise his excitement level when the opponents do that too. 

That authenticity is appreciated. His calls are never too homerish but also knows who his audience is. It makes you feel more empowered as a football fan to trust his eyes than other announcers who scream, nickname and overreact to anything over a 3-yard gain. 

His copilot is pretty good too.

Since I was born after his playing days were over, my only connection to Ham is through the radio. I don’t – like my mom’s generation – have a connection to his playing days at Penn State or in Pittsburgh with the Steelers. Even now, there isn’t the breadth of highlights of his playing days available the way you can watch Micah Parsons mix tapes on YouTube for hours on end. 

I don’t have that context of Ham but I have the one now coming out of the sound system of our 170,000-mile plus 2016 no-frills CRV. It’s evident that through his words, Ham’s well of knowledge is one that Penn State fans are lucky to tap in to. 

He knows when to criticize fairly. 

“James is not going to be happy with these presnap penalties,” he declares as offside Abdul Carter handed West Virginia five more yards. 

He knows when to chime in and he knows his place in the broadcast. He’s a Hall of Famer at the college and professional level and yet his explanations are so crisp and clear that fans are provided with a depth of knowledge that’s accessible to understand. 

And he knows how to connect with fans. He does use “we” but it’s not in a bothersome way and after all, if anyone should get to use it, it’s Ham, one of the greatest Penn Staters on and off the field of all time. 

Anna, who did not grow up a Penn State football fan to the level which I was, has now become a monster fan for the game of football overall. The road trips all of these years were her idea. She knows more about the NFL than I do and keeps a detailed, well-organized list of College Football Playoff chances in her Notes app. She’s also the one that’s been told to stop swearing by the parents in front of us at a game, not me. All of those items rank quite high on my list of why I love her. 

Our drive eastward isn’t her first time listening to Steve and Jack but she doesn’t have the same relationship that maybe you or I do. 

Still she offers a chuckle at their bewilderment as a targeting call Steve and Jack are convinced is targeting is overturned. (Upon review hours later, I find myself agreeing with the announcers as well on that call and a touchdown the duo demonstratively declared “short” that wasn’t reviewed.) 

Much like I’ve seen her growth for her love of football over the years, I have seen her enjoyment for Steve and Jack develop too. 

As my fears of a collapse are swiped away like the wipers desperately cleaning the windshield off thanks to a Tyler Warren 19-yard touchdown – and emphatic “TOUCHDOWN PENN STATE” from Steve – I wondered about the future of the radio broadcast. 

After all, I’m listening to it on an app and I don’t think many other people my age are tuning in over an FM – and certainly an AM – radio like the one in the Corolla. You don’t see many people my age – myself included usually – sitting in the stands at Beaver Stadium listening to a game. Most of those people are closer to Steve and Jack’s age than mine. 

Yet when needed, like on Saturday, college football radio announcers are a precious asset for fans to have, not just at Penn State but around the country. When Penn State switched its media partners from Learfield to Playfly this offseason, there was a moment of anxiousness that I had had. What if the new guys at corporate don’t like the old guys? Then again, at Penn State, they’d lose advertisers because they’d lose so many listeners. That was not going to happen and my anxiousness was quickly swatted away.  

But it’s clear Penn State and Playfly are trying to make them more accessible to people my generation. Again, I’m listening on the app and would do it more often too if service at Beaver Stadium was more dependable. (And yes, I could carry in a personal radio but that’s another thing in my pockets.) 

Once the fans of my generation are in too, Steve and Jack’s approachability on them will not fade away either. 

As we approached the final moments of the game and a pocket of relief from the rain on the drive home, I offered a chuckle, too, at the cast of characters backing up Steve and Jack. As Steve thanks Roger Corey – or “Rog” – and the duo now a trio begin to reflect on the last 25 years together. Steve’s voice seemingly throws an arm around Jack’s shoulder as a thank you for the ride. And Jack returns the favor but also passes the praise on to the gang behind the scenes. Bob Taylor is probably the most important man in this whole story because like Steve says this broadcast couldn’t happen without him. Today, Taylor received praise from Steve for navigating the delay so well. 

And lastly, Jack hands praise to what in my mind is the future of broadcast at Penn State, Brian Tripp. 

“That Brian guy down there is alright, too,” Jack quipped. 

Based on Tripp’s passionate calls of Penn State hockey and baseball, there’s no reason to believe he isn’t the future either should Steve decide to step aside. While I’d be excited for Brian — someone I consider a friend — to take that step, I’m not ready for him just yet. I enjoy Steve and Jack too much and that’s still a few years away, anyhow.

Tripp, manning sideline duties once again, graciously brushed the praise off from Jack and turns it right around before handing it back to the guys upstairs, like he always does. 

It was a connected, well-oiled machine that like Penn State’s offense settled down any nerves of the drive home. 

By the time the game’s final moments had come to an end, Steve announced the final play and final score, and the embrace of the booth had made what was a frustrating drive through another band of heavy rain a little bit more bearable. We were almost home, back to the dogs, who were indeed happy to see us. All thanks to the guidance of the GPS, Anna’s motion sickness glasses and the voices of Steve Jones and Jack Ham “on the Penn State sports network.” 

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