Celtics

Our winters just won’t be the same without Jack Edwards and Mike Gorman

While Edwards and Gorman’s styles were not similar, both cherished their jobs and aimed to do them as well as possible in their own way.

By Chad Finn

May 4, 2024

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To say that Jack Edwards was more prone to soliloquy than Mike Gorman would probably stand as the most blatant understatement in the 15 years my byline has been on this column.

Edwards’s greatest hits during his 19 years as the Bruins’ play-by-play voice on NESN of course include his Patriots Day/Revolutionary War ode in 2009 after the Bruins beat the Canadiens in Game 3 of a playoff series.

“Two-hundred-and-thirty-four years ago yesterday, a bunch of rag-tag farmers stood up against the greatest fighting force in the world . . . ”

Some fans probably know the lyrics to that one by heart. And he remained audacious even in his final broadcasts.

During the Bruins’ Game 5 loss to the Maple Leafs Tuesday night, Edwards hollered “coward!” after referee Steve Kozari hurried off the ice in the second period when Charlie McAvoy was apparently trying to ask him about a dubious call.

It was classic Edwards — might not have been for everyone, especially outside of Boston, but he was for the Bruins, always.

It would be shocking if there were an instance of Gorman ever referring to anyone as a coward or any other insult during his 43 years calling Celtics games. During the first 39 of those years, his referee-averse friend and broadcast partner, Tommy Heinsohn, was the one prone to do that, often hilariously.

Gorman was understated by a modern play-by-play voice’s standards. His catchphrases — “Got it!” and “Takes it! Makes it!” — totaled six words, and fans anticipated and enjoyed them right through his final broadcast Wednesday night.

Recently, Gorman explained to me that he honed his approach in part by realizing early in those 43 seasons as a Celtics broadcaster that plenty could be left unsaid with an audience that watches most if not every broadcast.

“You don’t need to tell them everything,” he said. “They already know. They’re there with you every game.”

While Edwards and Gorman’s styles were not similar, both cherished their jobs and aimed to do them as well as possible in their own way. Which is why it should not have come as a surprise this past week that they said goodbye with a remarkably similar grace, with the respect and admiration of fans and colleagues so deeply displayed for both.

Circumstances conspired to give Gorman the perfect sendoff. The Celtics clobbered the Heat by 34 points in the series-clinching Game 5, meaning the only suspense at game’s end was when exactly Gorman would be acknowledged by the Celtics and the TD Garden crowd.

The goodbye, which really was a thank you for being such an enjoyable companion from generations of Celtics fans, came with a prolonged ovation with 41 seconds remaining.

When the 76-year-old Gorman signed off at broadcast’s end, he was succinct and sincere as always . . . and briefly and for once, at a loss for words.

“Phew, I don’t know what to say, really,” he said, before finding the right words as always. “For the past 43 years it has been an honor and my distinct pleasure to be the voice of the Boston Celtics . . . Special thanks to all who welcomed Tommy, Scal [Brian Scalabrine], and me into your homes all winter long.

“When it was a cold night going on outside you turned us on and it couldn’t have been better. There’s no place I’d rather have been,” he said. “So Boston, thank you. Good night.”

Edwards said his goodbye a night later. Because ABC has Game 7 between the Bruins and Leafs on Saturday night, Edwards’s run ended before the first round was complete.

His signoff after the Bruins’ 2-1 loss in Game 6 was as classy as Gorman’s, and with an added touch of poignance. The 67-year-old is retiring because of a mysterious issue that has affected his speech. “The game is speeding up all the time,” he told me in February. “And I’m slowing down all the time.”

In his signoff, Edwards thanked NESN employees and co-workers and acknowledged how grateful he is.

“The past 19 years, to witness and describe some of the greatest moments in the New England sports pantheon has been a thrill of a lifetime,” he said.

“Most of all, I want to thank my broadcast partner Andy Brickley. You’re the brother I never had until I started working with you. And it’s been a joy ride for 19 years. And this is my goodbye.”

Hockey play-by-play and color analysts have to work with a certain kind of seamlessness unique to the sport. The play-by-play voice has to keep up with the rapid action while leaving room for the analyst to interject, and the analyst has to recognize when those openings are there.

With subtlety and care, Brickley took on an added responsibility over the last year or so — helping his friend along and quietly filling voids when Edwards found himself struggling.

To hear Brickley acknowledge his respect for Edwards was more than enough to put a tear in a cynic’s eye.

“I had four brothers, but now I have five,” said Brickley, his words clearly touching Edwards. “An absolute pleasure working with you, Jack.”

And with that, an era came to a close. New England winters won’t be the same without Jack and Mike. They weren’t alike, but they are forever ours.