In a year that has only bad news to offer, the White Sox announced the loss of their voice this morning. Ed Farmer died on Wednesday at the age of 70.
Farmer, who had long been a fierce advocate for organ donation in Illinois while battling polycystic kidney disease that ran in his family, waged an unspecified health battle for much of the last year.
The White Sox appeared to be transitioning away from a broadcast booth reliant on Farmer's availability. Andy Masur, who started his White Sox career in WGN's broadcast booth by calling single innings during home games, took over as the play-by-play guy for an increasing amount of assignments last season. Farmer missed the last week of the 2019 season for a "medical matter," and the pairing of Masur and Darrin Jackson opened the season in spring training before the pandemic froze the league.
Had Farmer been able to continue, he would have been embarking on his 30th season in the White Sox radio booth, first as an analyst to John Rooney, and then as the play-by-play guy alongside Chris Singleton and Darrin Jackson. He also pitched a few seasons for the White Sox, the neighborhood team for the product of St. Rita High School.
Farmer contained multitudes. Most of his words were delivered in a cantankerous monotone, which created an odd-couple vibe with the more offbeat Jackson that occasional listeners had a hard time grasping. The few times he registered in the greater baseball world's awareness for his radio work, it was for his fondness of Hammurabi's Code.
That broadcast persona didn't mesh with what people said about the person. Watch any road feed on MLB.tv or Extra Innings for a series, and one of the home team's broadcasters would talk about how nobody had more friends in baseball than Ed Farmer, and the broadcast's director would take a couple seconds to give him a nod.
(This jibes with my general impression. The few times I saw Farmer in person, he was seated and holding court with a crowd of three to 10 people.)
Moreover, that gruff vocal exterior made it more notable when he broke character. He rose to the occasion for the White Sox's biggest moments, and the calls that he and John Rooney made during the 2005 season still resonate.
And similarly, Farmer's sentimental side did break through an increasing amount over the years, including this team-produced video from 2019.
Based on the number of stories that have already emerged online, we're going to be learning a lot over the next week about why seemingly everybody who met the man took to him.
OK, maybe not Al Cowens.
