Forty years of gentle baseball baritone: An evening with “the voice of the bulls”

“Good evening, Bulls fans, and welcome to Durham Bulls Athletic Park.”

The soft baritone belongs to Tony Riggsbee, calling from the announcer’s booth on a Thursday night. He has covered the team for more than 40 years – first as a sportscaster and later as a Bulls commentator – and always in a set style that is “very, very different from what is the dominant style of announcers today.”

“That’s the cheerleader style, the barker style,” he says of the approach he rejects. “In a lot of these stadiums, there are guys who yell.”

“I do it traditionally. For me the focus is on the game.”

Since attending his first Bulls game in 1962 at age nine, Riggsbee has spent much of his life at the stadium. Riggsbee began covering the Bulls in 1980 as a live radio commentator for WPTF before moving to Bulls television coverage in 1986. He began commentating live Bulls games in 2006, which is his 19th season in that role.

“I just love it,” he says. “I get paid to pay attention to the game.”

“It’s a lot of fun when you know what you’re doing,” he says with a smile.

Riggsbee does. In addition to the Bulls, he does offseason call-offs for Major League Baseball in the Arizona Fall League and the Cactus League in the spring. His schedule has him call-off baseball games nearly year-round, with only a few weeks off in December and January. Add in his longtime job as a morning sports reporter for the North Carolina News Network, a national radio network, and Riggsbee spends more time covering baseball than sleeping.

“I try to sleep for two hours in the afternoon,” Riggsbee said of his sleep schedule. “And then when I go to bed at 10 o’clock, I sleep for four hours. So the two hours together add up to six hours. But sometimes I can’t manage three at night.”

His wife tolerates his schedule, he says.

“It’s the second marriage for her and me, so she knew what she was getting into.”

***

By the time the game starts, Riggsbee has already been at the park for several hours. He follows the same meticulous routine before every game. He arrives at the park two and a half hours before the first pitch, long before the fans. He grabs a Diet Pepsi, his preferred source of the caffeine he needs, picks up a copy of the day’s lineup and sits down to fill out his scorecard.

As he writes the lineup down on his scorecard, he checks the names against a pronunciation guide provided by the opposing team. Tonight, none of the names trouble him; he’s already met most of the players on the list.

He opens a three-ring binder and begins inserting the displays he will read at specific times in the game: special displays for strikeouts, the first run scored, and each home run.

In addition to his scorecard and binder, Riggsbee keeps a personal journal in which he catalogs every game he commentates, documenting the date of the game, the opponent and the color of the Bulls uniform, and leaving space for the final score. The notebooks record every game of his career as a sportscaster and commentator since 1980, he says.

After a quick dinner at the stadium, the “Voice of the Bulls” is ready to go.

It’s a beautiful evening at the stadium, and fans are flocking to see the Bulls take on the Lehigh Valley IronPigs. About 6,175 people have shown up — not bad for a Thursday night. It’s $1 hot dog night, and parents are juggling aluminum-wrapped frankfurters and fidgeting preschoolers as player introductions begin.

Riggsbee takes pride in the way he introduces the players: “I introduce the visiting team the same way I introduced the Bulls,” he says. “I play through the middle.”

But when Riggsbee tries to keep his fans’ attention on the game, he has competition. It’s Yellowstone Night at the DBAP, and cowboy activities like “Rope the Bull” dominate the action between innings.

Riggsbee stays focused on his task. He updates his scorecard with every pitch. He keeps an eye on the batters in the waiting circle and makes sure not to miss any player changes. The umpires help out and wave off the field when a new batter enters the field.

Keeping an eye on the pitcher changes is more difficult. Riggsbee pulls out a pair of binoculars to see who is warming up in the bullpen.

Even though Riggsbee keeps an eye on all the personnel changes, he still manages to make the occasional comment. “He played for us until about a month ago,” he says of Lehigh Valley’s Ruben Cardenas. “He’s a real power hitter.” As if on cue, Cardenas hits a double off the left outfield wall, scoring two runs and giving the IronPigs an early lead.

Riggsbee has experienced a lot of baseball over the years, and a few memories stand out. In 1962, he saw Hall of Famer Joe Morgan play for the Bulls. Twenty years later, he saw another player, Chipper Jones.

“The home run that sticks out in my mind was many years ago,” he says. “We had a catcher named Pete LaForest and we were down three runs against the former Ottawa Lynx in the bottom of the ninth inning. LaForest hit one of the longest grand slam home runs I’ve ever seen with the bases loaded. The ball just kept flying.”

“And the building wasn’t there yet,” he says, pointing to the Diamond View II building that now stands behind left field, “so you could see it going forward.”

I ask if he thinks we’ll see something similar tonight.

“You never know what you’ll see,” he says with a smile.

***

As the game reaches the sixth inning, the Bulls publicity team asks Riggsbee to share another count. Hot dog sales have risen to 3,745, a steep increase from the 2,369 just a few innings ago.

I ask Riggsbee if he’ll lead the stadium in singing “Take Me Out to the Ball Game” during the seventh-inning break, like legendary Chicago Cubs commentator Harry Carey did. Riggsbee shakes his head no – that’s not his style. Besides, “I don’t hit high notes,” he says.

As the appetite for hot dogs grows, so do the Bulls hitters. In the bottom of the seventh inning, Curtis Mead and Ronny Simon hit back-to-back home runs to tie the game. The fans outside the commentary booth stand and high-five each other, but Riggsbee still has a job to do. He taps the glass in front of him to signal the fans to sit down. He has to see who’s up to bat next.

By the bottom of the ninth, the fans are where Tony has been all along, watching every pitch with high intensity. The Bulls are down 5-4. The next out will end the game.

Mead hits a ground ball that seems to be the final nail in the coffin for the Bulls. But a missed throw by an IronPigs infielder saves him. Mead runs to third base and the stadium erupts. The Bulls have found new life.

Ronny Simon is next to bat. He gets a quick walk and the Bulls suddenly have players on first and third base. When Austin Shenton steps up to the plate, the crowd’s excitement builds.

Shenton quickly falls behind, leaving the Bulls one strike away from defeat. Shenton opts for a low curveball and hits the ball just enough to send it into left field. Mead runs home to tie the game, and Simon runs to third base.

With the score tied 5-5 between the Bulls and the IronPigs, Riggsbee announces that catcher Logan Driscoll is at bat. We both exchange an expectant look. The stadium is on its feet.

Driscoll hits a single into right field and Simon runs home for the winning run. The stadium explodes. It’s a miraculous win for the Bulls in a game they seemed to be losing just minutes earlier.

The Bulls players rush onto the field to celebrate with Driscoll, and the fans erupt in cheers and throw popcorn into the sky in joy.

As the crowd roars, Riggsbee quietly closes a window in the press box so he can hear the intercom. The official scorekeeper is calling out the names of the winning and losing pitchers, names that Rigsbee must announce in a few moments.

Riggsbee announces the names of the pitchers and wishes the fans goodnight. He turns off his microphone, makes a final correction to his scorecard and pulls out his personal notebook.

In the line that begins “6/27/24, Bulls vs. IronPigs, white uniforms,” he simply adds:

“Victory, 6-5.”

He turns to me and grins.

“You never know what you’re going to see,” he repeats.

Riggsbee grabs his notebook, his scorecard, and his empty Diet Pepsi bottle and leaves the locker room. It’s time for a much-needed rest.

Tomorrow night he will do it all again.

Pictured above: Tony Riggsbee, longtime Durham Bulls commentator, prepares for a game. Photo by Travis Swafford — The 9th Street Journal