David Noble looks into the world, work, and wisdom of Yale sports announcers.

Marv Albert, Bob Costas, Dick Vitale…LeRoy Cole, TD, ’12? Yale’s student sports announcers have not achieved nationwide fame (yet), but their dedication to and passion for the craft of broadcasting is virtually unparalleled in the wide world of collegiate athletics. Cole, Sam Purdy, DC ’10, and Michael Dunn, SY ’10, are just a few of the Yalies who disappear on game nights behind microphones and re-emerge as phantom voices on radio waves across the New Haven area. Sports radio hearkens back to simpler times, an age before high-definition television, back-to-back-to-back showings of SportsCenter, and scoreboard updates on cell phones. At Yale’s radio station, WYBC, a dedicated team of students aims to sustain this slowly dying art form.

Growing up in Long Island, NY, LeRoy Cole spent many afternoons listening to drive-time sports radio shows broadcast from New York City. He developed a deep affinity for the medium, so much so that he made sure the college he would eventually attend had an established radio station that would allow him to pursue this passion. At Bulldog Days, Cole met with the sports director at WYBC, and expressed his desire to try his hand at announcing.

Like Cole, Sam Purdy decided almost as soon as he got to Yale that he wanted to cover sports for WYBC. Purdy had no prior experience, but like young fans everywhere, he used to imitate his favorite broadcasters while goofing around in his backyard.

For Michael Dunn, radio runs in the family. His father did play-by-play in his college days, and his uncle was an announcer for the Hartford Whalers, a former NHL franchise. Luckily for Dunn, Yale provides ample resources for him to continue the family business.

All students who want to broadcast for WYBC must undergo a basic training program, in which they familiarize themselves with the soundboard and other technical aspects of radio. But the brave few who choose to announce sporting events must endure hours of practice calls before they can step in the booth for an official radiocast. To mimic the environment of a live broadcast, prospective announcers set up equipment at games and proceed to describe the action as if they’re actually on-air. Then they return to the station and critique their performances, recorded for this exact purpose.

These dress rehearsals can be eye-opening for newbies at announcing. After calling his first “practice” basketball game, Cole realized that he’d repeated “It’s good!” nearly every time a player scored. Senior WYBC members compile a list of terms and phrases, so that broadcasters learning on the fly can vary their analysis and avoid sounding like the robotic commentators in video games. Purdy found the learning curve to be relatively steep. Nervous before his first Yale-Harvard football game, he surprised himself with the obscure sports jargon he managed to summon forth.

ONCE AN ANNOUNCER HAS A FEW calls under his belt, he’s more or less ready for the main event. But the preparation doesn’t quite end there. “In a given week with two home hockey games, I devote roughly 20 hours of time to the games,” Dunn said, “with roughly 10 spent getting to and from the rink, and then another 10 for prep, as far as learning the numbers and stats of the opposing team, researching storylines, and listening to past broadcasts to note ways I can improve.” Announcing is Dunn’s main committment at Yale. Dunn dissected hockey telecasts during this past February’s Olympics, with the hope of picking up new lingo from the pro announcers.

Before any match-up, especially when a broadcaster is covering a sport in which he might not have the strongest background, it’s imperative that he knows the names and numbers of players on both teams; a history of their recent meetings; and what to expect from the particular contest he’s covering. Past playing experience in the sport you’re announcing can definitely be helpful. On the other hand, a lifelong hockey goalie might not make the smoothest transition to calling a women’s softball match.

Cole’s hometown is a hotbed for youth lacrosse, so he was able to glean some understanding of the rules from friends who played. And yet, when he was starting out, Cole worried that he wouldn’t sound convincing enough in a full-fledged broadcast. “Your basic knowledge of a sport might not be on the same level as that of your listeners,” Cole said. He made an effort to attend lacrosse matches, listen to other announcers’ techniques, and get an idea of how the Yale team played.

ON THE MOST BASIC LEVEL, WYBC’S ANNOUNCERS want listeners to be able to imagine what’s happening on the field, court, or ice. But in a world where play-by-play breakdowns are only a mouse-click away, simple X’s and O’s just aren’t going to cut it. “I want to provide more than what you could get from a read-out of balls and strikes,” Purdy, a baseball announcer, said. In this endeavor the interaction between the color commentator and his partner—the play-by-play announcer—proves crucial. While the play-by-play guy tells you who has the ball and what he’s doing with it, the color commentator supplies the context, explaining what a victory would mean for each side.

Before any game, Purdy tries to determine what the plot point will be, or what theme he will return to as the action plays out. In this way, he portrays sport as no different from Shakespearean drama. The players, or actors, set out with the intention of imposing their will on the game. In the end they are often constrained by the wishes of the sporting gods, who preordain each side’s strengths, weaknesses, and strategies, deciding which one will ultimately prevail. From his vaunted position, the announcer occupies the position of omniscient narrator, and does his best to make sense of the action for those not fortunate enough to bear witness.

Currently, WYBC broadcasts both men’s and women’s basketball, hockey, lacrosse and soccer, along with baseball and softball. Given the men’s ice hockey team’s recent domination of the Eastern College Athletic Conference, Dunn is deeply grateful for the opportunity he’s had to cover the Bulldogs. In the past few seasons, Yale has been among the nation’s best on the ice—and WYBC has exclusive access to coverage of the Bulldogs. “No other school with a top-tier hockey team has a student station as its flagship station,” Cole explained.

One would think a conflict of interest might arise, with students calling their classmates’ games. But homer-ism is not necessarily frowned upon at WYBC. Compared to professional sports, college athletics allows quite a bit of leeway when it comes to unabashed fandom. While sportscasters are discouraged from using the pronoun “we” when referring to the Yale side, they acknowledge that their audience consists primarily of students, parents of the players, or fans of the school. As such, announcers aren’t shy about showing their enthusiasm when a Yalie makes a big play.

Displaying emotion is a way to capture the public’s attention, to convey the urgency of a game’s proceedings. But it is important to remain gracious in defeat. “During a tough loss, you find yourself in a state of shock or silence,” Purdy said. “But if you don’t keep talking, then you’re not doing your job.”

Asked to name his favorite call, Purdy traveled back in time to his freshman year, in 2006, when Yale’s football team ended a five-year losing streak against Harvard with a resounding 34-13 victory in Cambridge. Purdy chipped a tooth on his microphone when a raucous fan bumped into him during a sideline interview, but nonetheless remembers that afternoon fondly. Similarly, he understands why a Crimsonite covering The Game ’09 might have risen to new heights of vocal dexterity during Harvard’s miraculous fourth-quarter comeback. “For anyone who called that Harvard win, it’s going to be your best game,” Purdy said.

Cole believes that some of Yale’s hockey calls compare favorably to those of professionals representing other schools. The Bulldogs may not always dominate on the field, but they are a cut above the competition in the booth.