Gillis was our voice of sports
Here's the kind of guy Don Gillis was.
"Joe Pellegrino was the sports anchor at Channel 7," recalls the Globe's former sports TV/radio columnist Jack Craig. "When he left to take a job in Philadelphia, Don Gillis did a tribute to him - on Channel 5!"
That's clout only possessed in this town by Don Gillis, who died at the age of 85 Wednesday evening at his home in Falmouth.
Don Gillis could do whatever he wanted. He ruled Boston TV sports for 21 years before retiring in 1983. Check that. He invented Boston TV sports in 1962 and then presided over it in the manner of a benevolent monarch.
"He was King of the Hill," maintains Craig. "Completely."
"He was a pioneer, and he was The Man," agrees Bob Lobel, who was a rival and admirer. "He was the King. He and Curt Gowdy. I always think of them together."
And he really did create the evening sportscast as we know it. There was no such thing before Don Gillis prevailed upon the folks at WHDH, the old Channel 5, to devote time for sports reporting every evening at 6 and 11. He also had this quirky idea to augment his reading of the news with actual film clips of Red Sox, Celtics, and Bruins games. Imagine that.
"Today you're able to see what happened in a Giants game 10 seconds after it happens," says son Gary. "He was lucky to get film of the day before."
But he did. And what you saw and heard on Channel 5 was the product of one man's industry and imagination.
"He pioneered the use of film clips," points out Chet Curtis, who now reports for New England Cable News and was a longtime colleague of Gillis's at Channel 5. "He got a special exemption from the union so he could look at film that came back from baseball, basketball, hockey or football games. He would look at it through a special viewer, select the plays he wanted, and hang it on a little device he had. A union editor would cut it, but it had all been chosen by Don. He then voiced it over without a script, just talking, because he had selected the play himself."
Everyone else in town played catch-up for 22 years.
"He connected with people through that camera," Lobel explains. "He was your friend. He was someone you could invite into your home at any time. It was the same with Gowdy. They made the rules, and everyone followed."
There was no more ubiquitous media presence in town during the '60s and '70s. In addition to dominating the television sports business - don't forget those two decades of candlepin bowling shows - he also was moderator of the single best radio sports talk show this town has ever known. That would be the great "Voice of Sports" program that aired Saturday nights from 6:30-7 on WHDH, 850 on the dial.
The panel included Bill Liston and Tim Horgan from the Herald; Channel 5 executive sports producer Joe Costanza; and, in the beginning, the encyclopedic Chick Whalen, a Norwood native who scouted for the Pirates (discovering and signing, among others, Richie Hebner). In the later years, our own sage Ray Fitzgerald joined the panel. The discussions were lively, but always civilized, and the term "moderator" was never more apropos than when applied to the gentlemanly Don Gillis.
"No self-respecting guy would go out on a date on Saturday night before 7 o'clock," declares Craig. I know. That's the way it was in my BC dorm.
At that point I never dreamed I would actually work with this legend. But he was still on the job when I arrived at Channel 5 in September of 1982.
No one could have been more helpful or supportive. He would introduce one of my feature packages as if what people were going to see would constitute the best 2 1/2 minutes in television history, and, when it was over, he would state without reservation that it had been the best 2 1/2 minutes in TV history.
It was no act. Don Gillis just happened to be a very nice human being.
"One of the most pleasant individuals I've ever met, in this or any other business," reflects Curtis. "A decent guy. Low key. Very unassuming."
"He didn't go into it with the idea that he would be a pioneer of anything," says son Gary. "He just thought, 'What would I like to see as a sports fan?' And that's what he tried to do."
His viewers were unaware he was born in Nova Scotia, and that his family moved to New Bedford when he was a boy. He was a true man of his times, right down to World War II service on board the famed USS Missouri. So, yes, he was present when the Japanese formally surrendered. "He had photos he had taken with his little Brownie," Curtis says.
He attended Boston's Leland Powers School of Broadcasting on the GI Bill, and began his broadcasting career at New Bedford's WBSM in 1949. He joined WHDH when it was the dominant, yes, voice of sports in Boston, and during his time he called assorted Celtics, Bruins, and Harvard games, as well as Red Sox games when Gowdy was encountering difficulties with his back in 1957.
All this was the prelude to his glorious career as the Dean of Boston sportscasters, which he convened in 1962, the very evening Johnny Carson began his reign on "The Tonight Show." He was there for all those Celtics championships, he was there for the entire Bobby Orr and the Big, Bad Bruins madness, he was there for the Gino/Sweet Kentucky Babe/Mike Holovak Patriots, and, of course, he was a central figure in reporting "The Impossible Dream." In fact, he was host of the iconic TV special of the same name, and his interview in the joyous Red Sox locker room Oct. 1, 1967, is an industry classic.
He was the perfect man for the job. He had the looks, he had the voice, he had the sports judgment, and he had the effortlessly ingratiating manner that endeared him to both the people he covered and all those faceless people sitting at home in Marblehead, Wellesley, Southie, Chatham, Edgartown, or wherever Channel 5 was beamed into their homes.
"The world was different," says Lobel. " 'Ozzie and Harriet.' 'Father Knows Best.' Walter Cronkite. Don Gillis and Curt Gowdy. They all made you feel comfortable."
You couldn't think of writing a history of sports in this town without mentioning Ted Williams, Bill Russell, Bob Cousy, Bobby Orr, or Red Auerbach. You couldn't write one without mentioning the name of Don Gillis, either.
Bob Ryan is a Globe columnist. He can be reached at ryan@globe.com.
