The Dodgers lost their voice when Vin Scully died. Los Angeles fans lost a family member
For legions of Dodgers fans, Vin Scully was the voice of their beloved baseball team. But for many Angelenos, the ginger-haired broadcaster was more like a family member. A grandfather, a uncle – someone they welcomed into their home on game day.
As heartbroken fans mourned Scully’s passing at age 94, it felt, they said Wednesday, like a death in the family.
“It almost felt like I lost my dad again,” said Desiree Jackson, who took the bus from skid row to Dodger Stadium to lay flowers and pray at the makeshift memorial that sprang up there overnight. “I fell in love with sports because of my dad, my brother and Vin.”
The 44-year-old wore a World Series hat and a long blue dress in honor of the legendary announcer, who died Tuesday at his home in Hidden Hills. Jackson grew up listening to Scully on the radio, and his voice, she said, is inseparable from the memories of her late father.
The memorial at the stadium entrance brought an outpouring of offerings and tears. Fans who came to remember the speaker described a figure who transcended divisions and transported fans to the game — wherever they listened.
“Generations of my family, that’s how we became Dodgers fans, listening to the broadcast,” said Tiffany Morales, 21, who joined dozens of mourners outside the stadium. “He was like a grandfather to us.”
Along with prayer candles and bouquets, fans left bags of Dodgers peanuts, a blue and white striped serape and a baseball with “It’s time for Dodger Baseball” — Scully’s trademark opener — inked over the stitching.
Eight-year-old Jax Gutierrez Alvarez, wearing Dodger blue, brought flowers. Among the Little League pitcher’s favorite pastimes is rewatching Game 1 of the 1988 World Series — won by the Dodgers on Kirk Gibson’s dramatic ninth-inning home run — with his grandparents.
“I love Vin Scully’s voice,” he said. “My favorite part is when he says ‘one high ball into right field, she’s gone!’”
A young bird chirps atop an LA Dodgers hat at a memorial for speaker Vin Scully outside Dodger Stadium.
(Wesley Lapointe/Los Angeles Times)
A tearful Lupe Guillen of Lincoln Heights brought a single white rose, a Dodgers flag and a handful of Mardi Gras beads to add to the memorial.
“I’m devastated,” she said. “My uncles used to live in Chavez Ravine. They were deported, but they would listen to him on the radio in Tijuana. He brought you right there.”
Alain Gomez, 38, watched with tears in his eyes as he recalled summers listening to Scully on the radio with his brothers. A lifelong Dodgers fan, a guy who bleeds Dodger blue, he wore a new Vin Scully T-shirt and sported a sleeve of Dodgers tattoos.
“It was what I grew up with,” Gomez said. “The stories he would tell about each player, you knew he loved the game.”
In East LA, Carlos Ayon parked in front of a Scully mural painted outside the Paradise Bar. In it, a grinning Scully wore a suit with a Lakers jersey over it. Two candles flickered at the base of the wall.
Ayon is a lifelong resident of East LA. Taking the day off from his office job, he planned to take pictures with his Sony a7 II camera at the stadium and here, at Lupe’s Burritos, where a “Vin Scully Av” sign hangs.
Suzanna Jimenez holds her daughter, Isabella Jimenez, as she looks with Lorenzo Jimenez at the memorial for Vin Scully outside Dodger Stadium.
(Wesley Lapointe/Los Angeles Times)
Growing up in LA, he said, meant growing up with the Dodgers and with Scully.
“He basically became a family member,” the 36-year-old said, providing the background noise of life that Ayon found “comforting.”
Ayon pointed to the mural of Scully and the one next to it, of late Lakers star Kobe Bryant.
When Bryant came to the NBA, Ayon was about 10. Although many things changed as he grew up, some things thankfully never did.
Bryant and Scully “were the constants,” he said. “That’s why it hits people so hard. Both of them dead.”
Another memorial appeared Wednesday at Scully’s star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. Jesús Carcamo, 25, left his lucky Dodgers hat there at the base of a palm-sized wreath of blue roses, white hydrangea and white orchids placed by the Hollywood Historic Trust.
“I wanted to leave one of my favorite hats, the one I used to wear when I went to Dodger Stadium,” he said.
Fred Thomas III, wearing a black Vin Scully T-shirt and a crisp Dodgers hat, had also come to Scully’s star to pay his respects. A lifelong Dodgers fan, he recalled listening to Scully call the game from his grandmother’s living room in the 1950s.
“Everybody had a radio and you wanted to listen to Scully,” he said. “He was a storyteller you could trust.”
Thomas said he admired how Scully kept listeners informed about what was happening on the court even as he spun his famous yarns.
“Scully wanted to keep you in the game,” he said.
Behind the register at Toro Grillhouse in Glendale, owner RJ Liquigan wore a Justin Turner jersey (he’s the Dodgers’ third baseman, for the uninitiated), a Dodgers cap and a replica World Series ring as a way of paying his respects to Scully. As he called out orders, the Spectrum SportsNet broadcaster was celebrating on a nearby TV.
Throughout the day, people stopped by to take pictures of the roughly 25-foot tall mural of Scully in the Liquigan parking lot. Painted by LA muralist Alex “Ali” Gonzalez in 2018, it shows Scully in a suit with a microphone in hand. By Wednesday afternoon, white and red roses had been left at the bottom.
For Liquigan, it is Scully “who represents the Dodgers the most.”
“He’s a legend,” he said. “There is no one like him.”
Liquigan became a Dodgers fan in 1988 when they won the World Series. Five years old at the time, he watched the game at the nursing home where his mother worked.
He recalled Gibson’s Game 1 home run and Scully’s memorable words: “In a year that has been so improbable, the impossible has happened.”
“I hope we can win the 2022 World Cup for Vin,” Liquigan said. “Win for Vin.”
Richard Choi, second from left, stands with Vin Scully, left, in a press box at Dodger Stadium in 1993 to commemorate the Los Angeles Dodgers launching a Mandarin radio broadcast. Choi had broadcast Dodgers games in Korean for Radio Korea between 1990 and 2021.
(Richard Choi)
Richard Choi also remembered the famous game in 1988.
For years, three hours before every Dodgers home game, Choi would arrive at the ballpark looking for Scully.
Choi showed Scully the lineup cards for the game and asked the famous broadcaster how to pronounce “Abreu,” the last name of one of the players. Scully would read the players’ names aloud to Choi, a Korean American broadcaster who served as a commentator on Dodgers games for Radio Korea from 1990 to 2021.
“He’s like a father figure to me,” Choi said Wednesday morning during an interview at the Radio Korea studio. “He was the first one I sought out at Dodger Stadium.”
For the 74-year-old, Scully was a father figure in more ways than one. Scully taught Choi English and the love of baseball after he arrived in Los Angeles in 1974. Scully guided Choi when Radio Korea became the first station to broadcast Major League Baseball games in Korean in 1990.
And through Scully, Choi said from the studio in Koreatown, Southern California’s burgeoning Korean-American community began to understand the region’s sports, culture and identity.
“For Korean Americans, he taught the true taste of baseball,” Choi said.
Shortly after Choi began calling Dodgers games, he once asked Scully about the famous call Scully made in Game 1 of the 1988 World Series. Why did Scully say “she’s gone,” rather than “he’s gone” or “it’s gone” when the ball left the court, Choi asked Scully.
A man would describe the cars and yachts they love and are proud of as “she,” Choi recalled Scully replying. Describing the ball as “she,” Scully said, added passion to the historic moment.
“When I heard that,” Choi said, “I thought he was a genius.”
