Legendary sportscaster Bob Blum to be inducted into Hall of fame

Tim Graham

Friday, May 8, 1998 | 8:17 a.m.

Al Davis isn't one to throw around the word "excellence."

But once the Oakland Raiders' owner identified the subject of a recent interview request that crossed his desk, he was quick to return the call.

"Any time you drop the name Bob Blum, I have no choice but to call you back," said Davis, who coined the slogan "Commitment to Excellence" in reference to his dominant Raider teams.

"I admire him. Bob Blum's whole attitude was an attitude of excellence."

Bob Blum seems to make that impression on everyone he comes into contact with. Ask any of those people about the man and they will gush about the 77-year-old sportscasting legend.

Mostly known in Las Vegas for his work with UNLV, the Stars and Thunder, Blum first made a name for himself by building the Raiders' radio network in the early 1960s. He later did the same for the San Diego Chargers.

And even more intriguing is Blum's life away from the microphone.

"I've done some interesting things," Blum said with a chuckle. "It's been a lot of fun."

Consider the following: He grew up in South Bend, Ind., a few doors down from storied Notre Dame football coach Knute Rockne; a Jew, he attended Notre Dame and experienced a brief stint on the football team; he was the general manager of a minor-league baseball team; he helped orchestrate legendary basketball coach John Wooden's arrival at UCLA and he recommended future NFL commissioner Pete Rozelle for his first NFL job.

Blum also has accomplished much away from sports. His commercial real estate business more than pays the bills. He also possesses a personal pilot's license through his service in the Air Force.

"He's had a remarkable career," said Ken Korach, a play-by-play colleague who called Stars games for Blum's production team. Korach now broadcasts for the Oakland A's.

"When I first met Blum in '86, I heard all the stories about this guy. I said 'There's no way this guy knows all the people he says he knows, or has done all the things he's said he's done.' But it's all true. He's an amazing guy."

Even a notorious tough guy like Davis is amazed by Blum.

When the dark-shaded, slick-haired football renegade bought the Raiders in 1963, he kept only three employees. Blum was one of them.

"He was a forerunner," Davis said. "We owe him a debt we'll never forget."

According to those close to him, Blum is tireless when it comes to giving of himself. He has helped develop the careers of former Stars announcers Korach, Paul Olden and Jerry Reuss, all of whom now work in the major leagues. He also donates thousands of dollars to college programs each year.

"He's really been like a second father to me," Korach said. "We still talk almost every day on the phone. To have a guy who's that supportive ... he doesn't ask for anything. He's been so special."

But Blum, who will be inducted into the American Football Foundation Hall of Fame at the MGM Grand on June 25, can play the role of prankster as well as he can the patriarch.

As current Stars and Thunder broadcasters Jon Sandler and Tim Neverett attest, Blum's sharp wit makes their jobs more enjoyable.

"He certainly is a character," Neverett said. "The great thing about doing Stars baseball is having him sit between John and I, and he always writes notes to us while we're on the air. He always has a joke. He's really fun to be around."

The Golden Dome

It might sound strange to anyone outside of South Bend, but Blum, a Jew, always wanted to attend Notre Dame.

"You grew up as part of the Notre Dame lore," Blum said.

Blum lived down the street from Rockne and spent many an hour playing with Rockne's four children.

Blum eventually attended Notre Dame on a B'nai B'rith scholarship, something he claimed wasn't unusual at the Catholic university.

"Oddly enough there were quite a few Jews that went to Notre Dame because they have an excellent law school," he said. "And a lot of Jewish families sent their kids there as an in to get football tickets. I would say 15 percent of the student body was Jewish."

But there was something strange about Blum's first days at the Golden Dome. The scrawny freshman decided to go out for the football team.

"That was short and sweet," he said. "I played a little high school football at South Bend Central. I was a third-string end only so I could make the trips to cover the games for the newspaper.

"Elmer Layden was the head coach at the time. I weighed all of about 140 pounds, which in those days wasn't as light as it is today. But one day after a couple weeks of practice, Layden sent me into the scrimmage.

"They had an All-American tackle by the name of Joe Beinor. There was a play designed in which he was to pull and hit the odd-side end. He missed the block, and it was me. Layden got all over him: 'What's that newspaper guy going to write about you now?' I'm thinking to myself 'Gee, this guy missed me and he's an All-American.' Well, about two plays later he didn't.

"I remember looking up at the equipment manager and said 'Where do I turn this football uniform in?'"

Wooden for hire

Rockne and Layden weren't the only coaching legends Blum's South Bend roots would tie him to.

As a student at South Bend Central, Blum had an English teacher by the name of John Wooden.

While working in Los Angeles with noted announcer Bob Kelly, UCLA athletic director and basketball coach Wilbur Johns announced his retirement. Blum remembered his high school's old basketball coach, then at Indiana State, and decided to concoct a story with Kelly, who also hailed from Indiana.

"I said to Kelly -- we were always looking at angles for stories -- 'Why don't we write a letter to Wooden, see if he's interested in UCLA, and then we can start pounding on Wooden for the job and get credit for it,'" Blum said.

Wooden disregarded the letter.

"He said he had a standing policy not to seek work when he already had a job," Blum said. "We went back to Johns and told him about Wooden, but he said he couldn't hire a guy who hadn't applied."

Johns supposedly decided to stay for one more year because he couldn't find a suitable replacement. But the next off-season, Blum claimed he and Kelly arranged for Johns and Wooden to meet at an NCAA meeting.

Wooden took the job and went on to win an unprecedented 10 NCAA titles, including an astounding seven straight from 1966-73.

Networking

In 1948, Kelly helped Blum land the job that launched his broadcast career as the baseball play-by-play voice for El Centro of the Class-C Sunset League.

Blum eventually found himself as the team's general manager. He still isn't sure how it happened, but he didn't complain.

"I was making $300 a month as a broadcaster, another $300 a month as the general manager and another $250 a month working at the radio station," Blum said. "I was in high clover. There were announcers in L.A., who, if they were making $400 a month, were making big money."

From there, Blum went to work for Tide Water Oil, which held the radio rights to several colleges in the West. That's where Blum started to see heavy action, calling football and basketball games for Loyola, San Jose, Santa Cruz, Cal Poly-Pomona, Sacramento State and Nevada-Reno.

In 1954 he went to work for San Jose State, where he stayed until joining the Raiders in 1961.

Although he lost money on the Silver and Black early on, Blum eventually pieced together a four-state, 19-station network that thrived. His rights fees were minimal. In fact, they were free in 1961 and just $10,000 in 1962. He estimates those rights to be worth about $1.5 million today.

On top of that, Blum didn't pay much labor. He was a one-man show who called the games, handled the production and even sold many of the ads.

"All I was gambling was my talent and my ability to do that thing," Blum said. "From 1963-65, I probably was the highest-paid sportscaster in all of football because I did everything myself."

It was that savvy Davis liked.

"He was a guy in the trenches," Davis said. "I was impressed with his willingness to work. He was dedicated and had a passion for what he was doing."

Once Blum got on Davis' good side, the two became close friends.

"He is the most loyal guy in sports," Blum said. "He has done so many things for players, fans, coaches. He'd kill me if I ever said anything about it (because) he protects that side of himself. He's a good person, but he's the Mystery Man."

Blum recently spent a week in the hospital with pneumonia. He didn't tell many people, but word got back to Davis anyway.

"Last week, I got a call from his secretary asking me how I was feeling," Blum said. "I said 'What are you talking about?' She said 'Well, you were in the hospital.' I said 'How do you know?' She said 'Mr. Davis knows everything.' I couldn't even argue.

"He wanted to know if I needed anything. I said no, but if I would have said I needed $10,000 it probably would have been in my back account the next morning.

"He always takes care of his people."

Rat race

Blum left the Raiders to work for the Chargers in 1967. He enjoyed similar success in San Diego, putting together a 22-station radio network.

But he had not stopped broadcasting San Jose State or Santa Clara games on Saturdays. Afterward, he would hop a red-eye to wherever his NFL team was playing. The grind started to wear him thin.

"It just got to be too much," Blum said. "I would catch a flight out of San Francisco Airport -- I still remember -- at 12:15 (in the morning). You'd fly into Chicago about 5:30, and from there you could go any place.

"I'd take a pill to wake up, and I'd take a pill to go to sleep."

It was this time that Blum decided to go in a different direction. He left the Chargers in 1968 to work a toned-down college schedule.

That's when he started to second-guess his departure from the Raiders. That move developed into Blum's lone career regret.

"If I had stayed with the Raiders I might have gotten a shot to do network television," Blum said.

"But I'll be very honest. I wasn't as good on the air. I think I did a good job, but I wasn't as good as Ken Korach. I just figured if I can't get to network television I'm spinning my wheels. I'll have to find a different way to make my money."

On to Las Vegas

Those who knew him had to see it coming.

When Blum moved to Las Vegas in 1973 as a part-owner of KLAV 1230-AM, he immediately went after UNLV's football and basketball rights. It was only natural.

Blum quickly scanned the broadcast landscape and discovered KORK 920-AM owned the Rebel rights for about $500. He called then-athletic director Bill Ireland and made him an offer he couldn't refuse.

Ireland didn't hesitate once Blum offered an unheard of $5,000.

Blum's timing was perfect. That year also happened to be the first for Ron Meyer and Jerry Tarkanian. Meyer led the Rebel football team to an undefeated regular season and a Division II playoff berth in 1974, while Tarkanian's basketball teams whipped the town into a frenzy.

"When you have good timing, good things happen to you," Neverett said.

Behind that success -- and with Blum behind the microphone -- rights fees soared, eventually surpassing $40,000 a season. Today, the Rebels retain their own rights, choosing instead to buy the air time because the sponsorships are too lucrative to turn over to the stations.

Blum has called football, men's and women's basketball and baseball during his 25-year association with Rebel radio.

But not all has been glorious in that quarter-century. With the exception of Ireland, Blum has witnessed more controversies and scandals at UNLV than anyone else.

"It hurts to see that type of thing happen at the university," Blum said.

He is particularly troubled by the debate centering on current athletic director Charlie Cavagnaro, who is being investigated for allegedly making racist and sexist comments about UNLV athletes.

"It's gotten to the point where somebody has to stand up and be counted or forget about it," Blum said. "I hate to admit it, but (university president) Carol Harter is right. It's character assassination until somebody comes forward and says 'I was here at this time, in this place. I heard it, and that's that.' Then the guy is gone.

"I've played golf with him. I've been out socially with him. I've worked with him. I can't remember him saying anything like that."

But Blum says Cavagnaro can rub people the wrong way.

Blum, a member of the women's basketball head coach search committee, had trouble understanding why Cavagnaro went against his recommendation and recently hired Regina Miller, a losing coach from Western Illinois.

"He's a weird duck, to be honest with you," Blum said. "At times he's friendly as hell, hugging me. Other times he'll barely say hello. But that's him."

Donations, please

No matter where he has worked, Blum always has made it a point to donate to the local university.

"You take any successful community, it has a successful university," Blum said. "I feel the people in the community should be behind the university. I have an interest in athletics, so I target it that way."

He is a member of the local Notre Dame club and still gives to Santa Clara. Blum also is a UNLV scholarship donor and works with the Rebel Football Foundation and the UNLV Women's Sports Foundation.

"Thank God I'm able to do it," Blum said while knocking on the arm of his wooden chair.

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