Courtside Calabro-Ation -- Mouth Behind Microphone A Sonic Boom

Ever wonder how Kevin Calabro, the Seattle SuperSonics' play-by-play announcer, comes up with the wild and wacky things he says?

Some of it is spontaneous combustion. But a lot is borrowed, like "Big Paper Daddy," his nickname for Sonic guard Ricky Pierce.

"Dana Barros said that after watching Ricky hit a shot from midcourt in practice," Calabro said. "Dana, kind of under his breath, said, `Big Paper Daddy.' I'm thinking, `That's beautiful. I've got to have that.' "

A fan's banner provided the handle for Shawn Kemp.

"The Reign Man," Calabro said, the words rolling and trilling. "I saw that on a poster as I walked into the Coliseum before a game. You put things like that in your memory bank and when Gary (Payton) throws the lob to Shawn, it's like, `The Reign Man defies gravity,' is just there. You get caught up in the flow and emotion of the game, and it's there."

Even though Calabro makes his living with his mouth, he says his ears are his most important tool.

"You pick up the language of the game by listening, not by running your mouth constantly and telling everybody what you think about the game," he said. "You ask questions and you listen . . . to players, to coaches, even gym rats."

Calabro, in his seventh season with the Sonics, is known for his emotional, high-decibel calls, which some Queen Anne Hill residents say they can hear without the aid of a radio or television set.

He says play-by-play announcers have to guard against becoming the biggest Homers this side of the Simpsons.

"I just try to tell the truth, and I don't worry about the ramifications," he said. "People can't argue with the truth.

"If the truth is these guys are bad and they are playing badly, then you have to report it. If the truth is they are rocking the house, and they have this year, then you damn well better get on the bandwagon and get with it."

Calabro's bombastic, street-steeped style stems from many sources. Anything he likes may become part of his act, be it a hit movie or song. His "You do that voodoo that you do so well" comes from a Cole Porter song and the Mel Brooks' film "Blazing Saddles." His description of an emphatic dunk, "Shaq really got up for the down-stroke," was lifted from a song by Funkadelic.

Getting fired was `best thing'

Calabro is a son of America's heartland. He was born and raised in Indianapolis, where his mother and father, Charlene and Paul, were schoolteachers. Paul Calabro, a member of the Indianapolis School Board, was the principal at Ben Davis High School when Kevin made a fateful choice.

After sitting on the bench as a freshman and sophomore, Calabro traded his gym shoes for a microphone, becoming an announcer at the school's 400-watt radio station.

"I was always the 15th guy on 15-player squads," he said. "I practiced, but never played, so my junior year I figured I'd have more fun playing intramurals and working at the school's radio station."

One of Calabro's two younger brothers, David, is the weekend sports anchor at an Indianapolis television station. The other, Ron, is a teacher and coach at a southern Indiana junior high.

After he graduated from high school in 1974, Calabro continued to work part-time at Indianapolis-area radio and television stations while studying broadcasting at Butler University.

His first break came in 1980, when he was given the chance to do play-by-play for the Indianapolis Checkers, a minor-league hockey team, on WIBC radio.

"I didn't know anything about hockey, didn't even know the rules, when they gave me an opportunity," he said. "I just jumped right in. I worked without a color guy and did over 100 games that season."

In 1982, Calabro got his shot at the NBA, with the Kansas City Kings, where Bob Whitsitt was the general manager. Calabro was 25.

Even though Kings Coach Cotton Fitzsimmons "treated me like a rookie player, making me beg for interviews," Calabro loved being part of the NBA's flying circus. But his station lost the rights to the Kings after one season.

In 1985, Calabro was hired to broadcast University of Missouri football and basketball. But his heart was still with the NBA, and that got him in trouble.

He was fired after one season.

Jerry Baker, who has worked for the Indianapolis Pacers since 1967, said Calabro's talent was apparent from his first days at the station. But he also said Calabro was afflicted with the maladies that strike many novices - a soaring ego and lack of dedication.

"When he first started working here, he was just a kid," Baker said. "He had the enthusiasm of youth, but he showed the irresponsibility of youth as well. Once Kevin matured, got settled down and found his niche, he became a better broadcaster. Right now, he's one of the best (in the NBA). No question."

Calabro admits to his early career woes.

"When I started out, I was a complete goofball," he said. "It was tough for me to buckle down and devote myself to something I didn't really want to do (covering collegiate sports at Missouri).

"Getting fired at Missouri was probably the best thing that ever happened to me. They just flat said they didn't like the sound. It woke me up to the realities of the profession: You're not given anything. You can't take your job for granted.

"I learned you have to be as intense as you can all the time, and you have to like what you're doing. I didn't really like what I was doing at the time. It was just the wrong situation for me."

One of the first people to offer condolences after he was sacked was Fitzsimmons.

"I talked to Cotton right after I got fired and he said, `You ain't lived till you been fired, son,' " remembered Calabro, his version of Fitzsimmons' husky drawl nearly perfect. "That is absolutely right and he would know. He's won more than 800 NBA games as a coach, but he's been gassed a few times, too."

Calabro worked for several months in Kansas City after being let go by Mizzou, then he moved to Seattle to work as a sports anchor for an FM station. Here in the Northwest, he crossed paths again with Whitsitt, who had taken over the Sonics' operation in 1986.

"When Bob offered me a chance to work for the Sonics, I jumped at it, baby," Calabro said. Ambitions stretch beyond Seattle

While part of Calabro would love to have a long-term relationship with one team, such as Bob Blackburn's 20-plus seasons with the Sonics, another part craves a brighter spotlight.

He loves it when the TNT cable network links up to a Sonic simulcast.

"That's a huge opportunity to let people hear and see what you can do," he said. "I thrive off the adrenaline.

"My ultimate goal is to work for a network. I've got to get busy and find those opportunities. They won't be found here in Seattle, and they won't be found with the SuperSonics. I'm 37 now; by the time I'm 40, I'd better have some connections made and better be on my way if I'm going to achieve that dream."

Soft tones not his style

Calabro said he is the same person you hear on radio, whether he's gushing about his hometown's "Indy 500" or sharing a table in a Queen Anne restaurant. He pumps up the volume.

Even at his Bellevue home with his wife Sue, a former nurse, and their three children, Calabro said his volume switch is always just a half-twist away from maximum.

"I'm pretty goofy at home," he said. "I like to tease the kids and my wife. I like to crack one-liners, laugh, and, of course, be loud. That makes me happy."

Happiness is a key to his success. "The reason for all the phraseology and the emotion is that if I don't do those things, I won't enjoy the job," he said. "And if I don't enjoy the job, I'm not going to be here. I'm really up there entertaining myself. That's the beauty of it." ------------------------------------------------------------------- HOW TO SPEAK CALABRO

A few of Sonic announcer Kevin Calabro's favorite terms, with English translations:

Big barn: the Coliseum. Hootenanny: blowout.

Corkscrew hopper: turnaround jump shot, stolen from Utah announcer Rod "Hot Rod" Hundley.

Dialed in: hot shooter. On him like a bad suit: tight defense.

The ball came down cold: high-trajectory shot.

Good golly Miss Molly: Wow! Mojo risin': Going up for a slam dunk.

Magic carpet ride: Going way up for a slam dunk. Usually used to describe a dunk by Shawn Kemp or Kendall Gill.

Nobody does the voodoo like you do: Another catch phrase after a Kemp dunk. From a Cole Porter song.

Stop the game, notify the FAA: Serving notice to listeners that Kemp was flying particularly high on a jam.