Mariner Baseball Broadcaster Glad Just To Be On Base

Anyone with the name of Rizzs (and there are only two that I know of) presents a phonetic challenge that is not to be dismissed lightly.

We are speaking here, of course, about Rick Rizzs, the Mariner baseball broadcaster. Now about the last name.

It is pronounced Rizz, as though the ``s'' didn't exist. However, if you see it in print for the first time, you might take on the impossible task of pronouncing Rizzs as though the ``s'' matters. It doesn't. Forget it. Just say ``Rizz'' and you have got it mastered.

This electrifying bit of trivia was gleaned the other day under a hot Arizona sun where the Mariners are training - to be precise, I sat in the Mariner dugout at Tempe's Diablo Stadium and talked to Rick.

He disclosed quite early in the going that his real, or Italian - heritage name, was properly Rizzietello.

``That was my grandfather's name,'' he said. ``But he shortened it to Rizz, then added the ``s.'' My grandfather's brother changed his name, too - from Rizzietello to Rizzo. So you see we've now got a family name spelled three different ways.''

Rick Rizzs, as you know, is the No. 2 broadcaster of Mariner games. Have no double about who No. 1 is. That is Dave Niehaus, whom many an expert regards as the best baseball announcer on this or any other continent.

Dave has been with the Mariners for 14 years. In those baseball seasons he has announced 2,210 games out of a possible 2,214. He missed those four games in order to attend graduation ceremonies for his three children - Andy, Matt and Greta.

Dave is a stylistic dandy. One thinks, at times, that he must have studied at the Royal Academy of Dramatic Arts. Hundreds of thousands of people in the Northwest know the dramatic inflections of that voice.

Frequently, Dave describes a pitch as ``l..l...l...ow and out-side.'' making it sound like a force of nature at work. In cheerier moments, when the Mariners hit home runs, he reports with delight, ``Fly away!''

Any dramatic play might draw from Dave his patented `` My, oh my!'' as though he is witnessing the imminent return of the late J.C.

Rick Rizzs is relatively soft-voiced, straightforward, his tones unadorned by Shakespearean inflections.

``I would never think of trying to be like Dave,'' Rick was saying. ``What I want to be is a pleasant contrast to him. Make no mistake about it, he's the greatest.

``Dave has great knowledge and a real insight to the game. He has a great voice and enthusiasm. I sit there beside him for 162 games and I enjoy listening to him.''

Rizzs ranks his partner, Niehaus, with the very best - Vin Scully of the Dodgers, Ernie Harwell of Detroit, and the much-publicized Harry Carey of the Chicago Cubs.

Like many a ballplayer in this camp, Rick Rizzs came up though the minors, meaning the hard way. For years, he broadcast games played by such baseball titans as the Memphis Chicks, the Alexandria Aces and the Amarillo Gold Sox.

With the players on those teams, Rick rode buses for 15 or 18 hours at a stretch.

Ever since he was a kid growing up in Chicago, he yearned to be a major-league baseball broadcaster. In a steady stream, he sent out his resume and tapes of his broadcasts, trying to make the big leagues.

``Then one day George Argyros called me,'' Rick said. This was in the winter of 1983 and the former Mariner owner invited Rizzs to his office for a talk.

``We talked for about an hour, and George was interrupted by phone calls, doing his other business. I didn't know how I was doing. Then after one call, George put the phone down, stuck out his hand and said, `` Welcome aboard.' ''

His greatest encouragement as a kid, Rick says, came from Jack Brickhouse, a famous TV and radio broadcaster in Chicago. Rick wrote a letter to Brickhouse, asking what he, as a high school sophomore, could best do to become a major-league broadcaster.

``I got a nice handwritten letter back,'' Rick said. He urged me to get all the schooling I could, to broaden my education, and work hard. I never forgot that.''

Today , Rick says, he gets 15 or 20 letters after each Mariner home stand. Some of these are from kids seeking advice. Rick answers every letter by hand, including his advice to would-be Dave Niehauses.

In 16 years of broadcasting, major league and minor, Rick has missed only one broadcast. That was when his son, Nick, then age 7, needed emergency surgery.

``I was a single parent then,'' Rick said. ``After my divorce, I had custody of Nick. My ex-wife agreed to this because there were two ladies who lived in our apartment complex in Bellevue to help me take care of Nick.

``One was Juanita Moore, who was really like a mother to me. The other was Pam Shute. We became like one big family in that apartment. Nick is 13 years old now.''

When Rick talks about Niehaus, as he does almost incessantly, it is not about his ``boss,'' but as a friend.

``He has always allowed me to be myself on the air,'' Rick says. ``He gives me a lot of confidence. That's because we are such good friends. Some announcing teams don't get along because their egos get in the way of friendship.

``But with Dave, there's none of that.''

Rizzs, now 36, appears to be a guy who can't believe his good fortune. He has signed another two-year contract with the Mariners (Niehaus is negotiating another contract at the moment) and life looks pretty good.

``I think a lot about my father,'' he said. `` He told me once, `If you wake up in the morning and you're happy to go to work, you've got it made.' I've got it made.''

Emmett Watson's column appears Sunday, Tuesday and Thursday in the Northwest section of The Times.