Expect Anything Different? Remembering the Voice and Talent of Dan Hicks

Last Saturday, I watched the first half of the Notre Dame–Miami game with my Dad at his house. Some time in the third quarter, the sound went out on the TV. In a tale that might be familiar to too many of you, he spent more than an hour on the phone with tech support, only to be told to contact Sony, the manufacturer of his flat-screen television. With just a few minutes remaining in the fourth quarter, my Dad finally decided to watch the game with closed captioning.

He later told me, "In some ways, I was freer to watch the game unfold, as it wasn't being dictated by an announcer. While I learned a lot by closely reading and watching the plays, it was an inferior experience. I never want that to happen again."

My experience, however, was quite different.

I left to meet some friends in Half Moon Bay, so I listened to the game on Catholic radio via SiriusXM (]'m serious! And they do a great job, too). A friend wanted to know what that was like. I told him, "It was equally intense ... maybe even more so. With no view of the field or the positioning of the players, I had to wait in anticipation for the call and the outcome of each play, one down at a time. Had I been sitting in front of a television, I would have been on my feet and back in my seat throughout the game. Instead, I was squirming in my car seat, hanging on every word."

Ah, the tale of two halves.

My Dad's experience was sight without sound. Mine was sound without sight. But what this sports fan loves most is the combination of the two: a great view accompanied by a great call. Sports broadcasting is both an art and a science. The pictures tell one story; the voice in the booth brings it to life. And with that, I'd like to pay tribute to one of the best in the business: Dan Hicks, the longtime NBC golf and Olympics broadcaster, who died suddenly at age 64 following an acute illness.

If the 2008 U.S. Open at Torrey Pines were an Academy Award-winning film, I have little doubt that Hicks's call, "Expect Anything Different?" would be among its most memorable lines. Much as we remember Maximus Decimus Meridius (the Spaniard) in Gladiator for his unforgettable challenge, "Are you not entertained?", we remember Tiger Woods, the drama unfolding on the course, and Hicks's voice in the booth.

Some calls simply describe a moment. Others become part of the moment itself. Dan Hicks had a gift for the latter. In fact, I think his greatest gift was his ability to understand the drama of a moment. He knew when to build anticipation, when to let the action speak for itself, and when to elevate his voice because something extraordinary was happening. He wasn't simply calling a sporting event. He was helping us experience it. He was helping us appreciate its significance.

Because of his significance in life and now in death, after prayer, I shared Dan Hicks's story with my students. I let them know that his wife, Hannah Storm, is among the best in the business. She has carved out a remarkable broadcasting career of her own. From becoming the first female host of CNN's Sports Tonight to hosting NBC's Major League Baseball coverage and calling NFL games alongside Andrea Kremer, Storm has helped reshape the landscape of sports broadcasting. She is also a Notre Dame graduate. My heart goes out to her and their three daughters.

I wanted my students to get a sense of Hicks's style and spirit, his gift and singular talent. So I decided to show them one of the greatest sporting moments in Olympic history: the 2008 U.S. men's swimming 4x100-meter freestyle relay in Beijing.

I provided a little context and then played two YouTube clips of the race, each featuring a different broadcaster. The first was Dan Hicks, alongside analyst Rowdy Gaines. The second was another broadcaster calling the same race.

I don't think I'm being biased when I say that the second call pales in comparison to Hicks's. It was the version I had originally seen, and one that millions of others have watched. But hearing the two calls back to back was revealing. The difference wasn't simply volume or enthusiasm. It was the voice, the inflection, the timing, the anticipation, and the ability to convey the magnitude of what was unfolding in the pool.

Alongside Rowdy Gaines, Hicks was an artist, but his craft wasn't painting or sculpture. It was sight and sound, storytelling and revealing, knowing when to speak and when not to. He painted portraits with words, capturing not just the competition but the people, personalities, and moments that made it memorable. I will miss the portraits that he painted.

"Eternal rest grant unto him, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon him. May his soul and the souls of all the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen." Please give my mom a hug for me. 

Photo Credits
Hannah and Dan
Tiger, Jay and Dan