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Classic Audio
From the Capitals' first game in 1974 through the 1990's, listeners' winter nights were warmed by Ron Weber's folksy
radio play-by-play.
At Capital Centre (left), Weber broadcast from a desk built into the stands - fitting, because Weber was a fan's announcer.
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"Way to go, Miss Twiddle"
A few thoughts on the Capitals first broadcaster
When the
Capitals skated onto the ice for the first time in 1974, Jimmy Anderson was behind the bench, and Ron Weber (right) was in
the broadcast booth. Anderson was gone after 44 games, while Weber lasted an amazing 23 years.
That kind
of statistical introduction would no doubt please Weber, who peppered his broadcasts with arcane numbers and obscure facts.
(His nickname among the team was “Stats.”) He used that style, Weber said, because he felt unqualified to give
analysis. However, loyal listeners knew he had more hockey knowledge than he gave himself credit for.


Certainly, no one
knew the team better, or cared about their fortunes more deeply. During that awful 1974 season, the Capitals were in Toronto
– and on the verge of their long-awaited first road victory. The Maple Leafs tied the score with less than two minutes
to play, then scored the game-winner in the final 10 seconds. That cannonball to the gut was too much to bear. After dutifully
announcing the goal, Weber didn’t say another word for more than a minute.
On happier occasions, Weber was fond of trotting out his catch-phrases, such as calling the puck the "little black biscuit."
Or after a timely goal, "Way to go, Miss Twiddle." I never heard him explain what, if anything, that meant. But it represented
the unassuming, folksy style that wore well year after year.


That is, until the team moved from USAirways Arena to MCI Center, and Weber wasn't asked to come along. It should have
mattered that Weber was the only person to have seen all 1,939 Capitals games up to that time. (He once walked a mile to the
arena in Winnipeg when the wind chill was 70 below.)
But it didn't count. With a move to a hip downtown arena, management apparently felt Weber would be brown shoes to their
new tuxedo.
What a tone-deaf decision. Hometown announcers don't become legendary because of their technical skills or "attitude".
Fans appreciate how they live and die with the team, have been there through thick and thin, and even their quirks become
embraceable "signatures." Weber fit into all those categories, and I miss hearing him.
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