Inside the long and narrow hallway that parallels the Celtics and away team’s locker rooms, I looked up and suddenly found myself alone with Mike Gorman.
I quickly debated whether or not to say anything. I didn’t want to bother him, but I also wanted to acknowledge him. I made a split-second decision to speak up, and I’m glad I did.
I don’t remember exactly what I said, but it was something along the lines of: “Hey Mike, Trevor Hass. I just wanted to thank you so much for everything you’ve done over the years. I’ve listened to you announce countless games, and you’re truly the best of the best at what you do.”
He gave me a friendly and genuine smile, and in that classic gentle yet powerful Mike Gorman tone, responded something like: “Thanks so much. That really means a lot.”
People probably express similar thoughts to him all the time, but you could tell he wasn’t faking it. He really did appreciate it. He does what he does to put a smile on people’s faces.
That’s the thing I’ll always respect most about Mike Gorman. He’s a kid from Boston who grew up loving the Celtics and considers himself extremely lucky to live out a dream for four-plus decades.
As Gorman embarks on his final season, I encourage everyone to soak it all in and enjoy the ride. I truly believe he’s the best at his craft. No one is more deserving of praise than this guy.
He has a way of making you feel like he’s right there in the room with you. It’s almost like he’s articulating what you’re thinking. He doesn’t use fancy vocabulary, he doesn’t embellish and he doesn’t make the moment bigger than it is. When the stakes are magnified, you’ll know, because he’s just as invested as you are.
It’s funny how certain people play such a significant role in your life from a distance. I’ve spent thousands of hours listening to him call games. When the Celtics are also playing on another channel, I’ll often stick to the NBC Sports Boston broadcast to listen to Mike.
All these years later, it’s still a treat to listen to him call a game. His calming, grandfatherly presence makes the game digestible and smooth. His rapport with Tommy Heinsohn is second to none, of course, but he also meshes seamlessly with whoever else is by his side.
I also appreciate how he intermittently asks questions during a broadcast. He knows a ton about basketball, but he’s not afraid to learn more. He’ll ask about a certain trade, a certain player or a certain trend that’s unfolding in the game. Mike isn’t afraid to ask, because he knows if he has the question, someone else probably does as well.
Mike, who turns 78 in November, hasn’t stuck around this long for the money or the glory. He’s done so because he loves the game, he loves his job and he loves the Celtics. He wants to see them win one more. He won’t want all the fanfare this year, but he’s earned it.
I truly admire his passion, commitment and professionalism. I’ve thanked him once, and now I’d like to thank him again. You, sir, are appreciated. Enjoy this final season. I know we will.
All these years later, you’ve still “Got it!”
