Truculent: truck-u-lent, verb, Act of Howard Cosell lending his truck to Bob Uecker.
If you've ever seen Al Michaels being interviewed about Bob Uecker on a talk show, you immediately understand the genesis of that phony definition.
If you don't, here's a quick synopsis. One night in the 1970's, Uecker, Michaels, and Cosell were paired together on a broadcast of an MLB playoff game. Cosell was being his usual arrogant, stuffy, know-it-all self. and kept imploring the team at bat to bunt in a situation that clearly didn't call for it.
Not wanting to embarrass Cosell over his lack of common sense when it came to baseball strategy, Uecker at first ignored the pleas, then gently decided to convince Cosell bunting was a silly strategy to implement under the circumstances.
If you're unaware of who Howard Cosell was and what he stood for, know this, he always thought he was right, and any challenge to his beliefs was an invitation for a heated argument. This was the true essence of truculence.
Surprisingly, albeit begrudgingly, Cosell agreed with Uecker, although he couldn't resist an opportunity to have the last word by attempting to undermine Uecker's intelligence.
"I get your point Uecky." Cosell boastfully proclaimed. "You're awful truculent tonight." "You do know what truculent means, don't you?"
Without missing a beat Uecker dryly retorted, "Sure I do Howard, if you had a truck, and I borrowed it, that would be a truculent."
That took guts. Uecker seized upon the cruel attempt by Cosell to make him look dumb, and made a joke so cleaver and brilliant that it made Cosell look stupid.
In a way, it was the perfect example of the type of sarcastic, smart aleck remark that was so cleaver the other person didn't realize they had been insulted until much later. I can't help but think Uecker was a heavy influence on people who took the same approach to comedy like David Letterman or Jimmy Kimmel.
What's most amazing about Uecker is that he was a rare breed, a jock who was able to parlay a .200 career batting average into a lifelong career in baseball and several years in the entertainment industry.
His entertainment career as a sitcom star, talk show guest, and commercial pitchman was built upon a persona that combined prideful self-confidence with a starling lack of self-awareness.
Uecker was a master of using comedy to mock his misplaced sense of self-importance or sense of insecurity.
Put another way, he possessed an everyman quality in which he wanted you to believe he was famous and well-connected, but in the end he was forced to reconcile with the fact that he was no better than us.
This is illustrated no better than in the following commercial:
Perfect, just perfect. Here's Uecker too wrapped up in his own self-worth that arrogantly insults the fans with his "front row" remark only to end up where he truly belongs.
It was a persona that was on the surface predictable but so smartly manifested that you never knew where the punchline would go.
It was always hilarious, and represented the mark of a truly talented comedic mind.
There was also a more true to life side to Bob Uecker, one that made him a shining example of loyalty, love, and a fan's passion for the game.
For 54 years, Bob Uecker was the soundtrack to a Milwaukee summer. While many Wisconsin residents fired up their grills to cook bratwurst while they drank their Miller's, their radios were tuned to Uecker describing the fortunes of their beloved Brewers.
True be told, Uecker wasn't the most pleasant broadcaster to listen to when he was doing play-by-play. His singsong cadence and strict adherence to what was happening on the field was sometimes disappointing to listen to through my satellite radio.
I always expected him to be funny, but I had to admire that he was just doing his job, but if you listened long enough, the quick wit would eventually show itself.
If the game was a blowout, a bunch of funny stories about his playing days were sure to follow.
Uecker represented the type of baseball broadcaster that is quickly becoming a dying breed, one who understood that describing a baseball game on the radio could be a slog, and that it was best to try and be entertaining when the situation warranted.
With the possible exception of Vin Scully, no baseball broadcaster was more entwined with his team and city than Uecker with the Brewers.
I'm sure there were more lucrative opportunities to expand his entertainment opportunities and call games in a bigger market with a larger fan base, but Uecker never forgot his roots, and remained loyal to his team and his city.
That sort of small market loyalty was endearing and rare.
Uecker was beloved by the organization. He was a close confident of players and owners alike, and in later years was the brutally honest uproariously funny Grandfather figure who was just as beloved by the modern players.
Just this past September Brewers manager Pat Murphy told his players that no one meant more to the team than Uecker, and invited him to take part in their celebration when they clinched another division title.
Amid the loud shouting and frequent pouring of champagne over their heads, Uecker commented on the proceedings with a comment that bellied his persona.
"I peed my pants", he exclaimed.
That brought the house down among young and old.
For the past few years, I always thought that this would be the year the Brewers and Bob Uecker would finally win the title they richly deserved, alas it was never to be.
When Brewers closer Devin Williams grooved a fastball to the Mets Pete Alonso that eliminated the Brew Crew from yet another postseason this past October it was a loss in more ways than one.
Following the game, Uecker tried to make sense of his emotions as he valiantly tried to put a brave face on yet another postseason disappointment.
"I'm telling you, that one... had some sting on it" Uecker somberly told his audience.
Sadly, it was the last profound words he would ever speak to his legions of fans.
Go forth from this earthly existence Mr. Baseball, and enjoy the rights and privileges afforded by heaven's sky box.
And every once in a while, make sure you sneak down to the front row.
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