Bryson Stott blasted a grand slam for the Phillies Wednesday night to help Philadelphia sweep the Marlins in the National League Wild Card round.
The crowd exploded. It was a magical moment for the home fans.
Thursday morning I came across a video of the homer in which the on-field audio was isolated, removing the announcers, so it basically sounded like you were standing by the plate.
Tai Verdes’ song “A-O-K” played as Stott came to the plate.
Excited crowd noise built.
On the first pitch the bat cracked.
The crowd roared.
The stadium’s illuminated Liberty Bell tolled repeatedly.
Anyone who has played sports knows there are iconic sounds associated with them that will drill into your brain and never leave.
I can only speak to sports I have played, but there are several sounds that hold a special place in my heart.
In baseball, the crack of the bat wears the crown. I never played with a wooden bat so I have never personally produced that noise, but I’ve heard it at professional ball games. A well-hit ball is a legendary sound. I played baseball with aluminum bats and later softball with composite bats. The sounds varied among material and manufacturers – ranging from a vibrating “ping” sound of metal to a flat “thunk” from the plastic materials that came later.
Baseball also gives us the satisfying sounds of a ball cracking a mitt. When a baseball or softball snaps in the web of a glove you know it has been thrown with some serious velocity.
It may surprise some people, but I did play a little bit of basketball when I was younger and fat. The “swish” of a basketball zipping through a net tells you the shot went perfectly through the rim and backspin of the ball ripped against the back of the net.
I would argue the “donk” of a basketball hitting squarely on the rim is also memorable and tells you the shot has gone rogue.
I played a lot of football but the problem with football is that the numbers of players and fans create an audio gumbo. Bands, cheers, jeers, grunts and collisions all join together to make a muddy mess in your ears. This is the reason you know someone got wrecked if you actually hear an individual collision in football, because that hit was above-and-beyond anything else happening on the field.
The “bonk” of a football hitting a goalpost is memorable if delivered in an empty stadium. A referee’s whistle will also stick in your ears for a while after a game. Being a lineman, I remember the different sounds inside my helmet if the shell of a helmet hit mine, rather than the facemask. When facemasks would grind together it almost sounded like two bucks rattling antlers together as the cages scraped across each other.
I also recall the sound of our football cleats coming across the access road behind the old MHS high school, eventually flattening out on a rubber mat laid across the track before eventually giving way to silent steps as we hit the grass of the field.
Strangely, as quiet as golf is to play, there are a series of sounds that I find classically memorable. I think the silence surrounding the game makes the nuanced noises stand out.
Obviously, the sound of a well-hit drive coming off a clubface is distinctive. Like ball bats, golf drivers are all different and have identifiable noises. Some respond with a stiff “thwack” while others are different, like the appropriately named Ping clubs. While much more muted, putters also have proprietary sound when they tap the ball.
My favorite sound in golf is the low, rattle of ball meeting plastic when a putt drops into the hole, but, unfortunately, a more common soundtrack to my game comes when a wayward shot drifts into the leafy green trees. Will it pass through barely altered? The hollow knock against a solid limb of the tree offers another reality.
Though I have no experience with other sports I would expect they have similar hypnotic sounds known to those who play them. The sound of a kicked ball in soccer comes to mind. The ball contacting the surface on a tennis court. I would imagine gymnastics comes with a myriad of subtle sounds, like the pounding of feet running on a mat, the sound of hands hitting a vaulting table, a springboard compressing or the sound of uneven bars straining under stress.
Just like a smell can remind you of your grandma’s house, I think those sounds we associate with sports can instantly take us back and drop us on the field. Those noises can stir that tingling that makes us want to compete and chase those responsive sounds one more time.
Another swing offers a chance to hear that sweet crack of maple one more time.
-Chad Williamson is the managing editor at the Journal-Tribune.