Voice of the Huskers never sounded so good

Saturday’s last-second thriller against Illinois was not for the feint of heart, and in fact it sounded like play-by-play announcer Kent Pavelka was having a heart attack as he called the last play of the game. The Huskers’ 83-80 win was memorable, and so too was Pavelka’s epic audio, which was getting almost as much air time after the fact as the winning shot itself.
With the game tied at 80, Pavelka wore his heart on his sleeve, as he often does, counting down the seconds as Sam Hoiberg drove the lane hoping to make some Husker history. If you haven’t heard the call, do yourself a favor and dial it up online.
“Sam drives the ball, kicks it, it is Lawrence, puts it up …Ghaah. Aaah. Aaah. Aaah. … I’m going to pass out,” Pavelka said with an exasperating narrative that made listeners wonder if the 76-year-old was experiencing an actual medical emergency. 
I caught that dramatic soundbite live and honestly enjoyed the scene Pavelka painted in my mind as much or more than the video highlight of Jamarques Lawrence’s heroic 3-pointer. I was amped up myself, walking briskly on our treadmill to ease my angst, fists pumping, focused on the chaotic scene unfolding in Champagne, Ill.
“The game is over,” Pavelka continued, nearly out of breath. “Nebraska wins it. Nebraska wins it. Nebraska wins it. Jamarques Lawrence hits one with two-tenths of a second to go. I’m not going to last this year, but Nebraska just set a school record for 11 wins to start this season and 15 wins in a row.”
Lately, I’ve gotten back into the habit of turning down the TV and dialing up the voice of the Huskers on the Husker app, preferring the home-spun take on Nebraska athletics over network broadcasters who often seem slanted the other way. Pavelka makes no apologies for his Big Red bias, and in fact openly calls out referees by name if he disagrees with a call in the heat of the moment. He knows his audience is right there with him.
Saturday’s exciting audio reminded me how special radio broadcasters have been to Husker Nation over the years. We lost Greg “Sharpy” Sharpe earlier this year to cancer, and I’ll always remember his call of the Team Jack Hoffman touchdown run, as well as his delay-of-game penalty reaction following the Sam Foltz tribute in 2016. 
“Husker Nation, permission to shed a tear,” Sharpe said, his voice cracking. 
It’s one thing to write something that touching hours later. To come up with words so emotionally charged in the moment, live and on the air, is a rare gift.
I also enjoy Matt Coatney’s energetic, folksy style as the voice of Lady Husker basketball, which, by the way, is off to a fantastic start. Coatney makes me smile every time he references a play or shot taken based on a town’s location on the Nebraska map painted on the court. He knows Nebraska by heart, in other words, and fans appreciate his homegrown perspective.
John Baylor, voice of Husker volleyball, suffered a gut punch along with the rest of us Sunday as our top-ranked and previously undefeated Huskers lost a five-set thriller. Baylor has his own unique style as well, punctuated with catchy phrases that roll off his tongue faster than a Harper Murray kill shot.
You can’t walk down this particular memory lane without tipping the hat to the late Lyle Bremser, who called Cornhusker football games for 42 years before retiring in 1984. In an era when televised games were rare, Bremser gave Husker Nation something to talk about long after the final whistle.
“Holy moly,” Bremer famously said during Johnny Rodgers’ punt return for a touchdown in the Game of the Century against Oklahoma. “Man, woman and child did that put ‘em in the aisles. Johnny the Jet Rodgers just tore ‘em loose from their shoes.”  Listening to that call still gives me goosebumps 54 years later. Seriously, who talks like that anymore?
Like Pavelka on Saturday afternoon, it’s not what these broadcasters say, necessarily, that connects those of us who bleed Husker red. It’s how they make us feel in the moment, putting words to either the thrill of victory or agony of defeat.
They say pictures are worth a thousand words, but on Saturday Pavelka flipped that script like a pro.
KURT JOHNSON can be reached at kjohnson@ hamilton.net