Editors Note: This article was first run last September. With Bob Murphy's passing today, we feel that it should be run again.

On July 27th one of the most recognizable figures in Mets history announced his retirement, effective at the end of the season. For 42 years Bob Murphy, along with Ralph Kiner, has been the voice of summer. Bob did more than just announce, he painted a picture. His unmistakable pronunciation of players' names, his trademark “Happy Recaps,” his always sunny disposition; Murphy is more than voice. Murph, as he is affectionately known, is an ambassador of the game; he is a treasure, one of the truest examples of what is right in baseball.  
 
Murph has been there through the thick and thin. He was there with Kiner and Lindsey Nelson --when the Mets played their first game at the Polo Grounds-- and 7 years later when Cleon Jones dropped to his knee. Murph was there when Jimmy Qualls singled off Tom Seaver. He was there in 1973 when the Mets mounted an unbelievable comeback and came within 1 game of a Championship. He celebrated in 1986, and was there 13 years later for the Grand Slam Single. Despite all the history he’s seen, it will be his constant professionalism in disappointing situations that will be remembered. He was there to comfort you after Kenny Rogers walked Andruw Jones and when the Yanks dominated the Subway Series. He has been there throughtout the disappointing past 3 years with the same neverending enthusiasm. He was there every spring in St. Lucie, declaring that even he needed to practice. He treated every game as if it was his last, and enjoyed every pitch, every last swing.  
 
Rather than say goodbye, we should celebrate a tremendous career. My favorite Murph memory is sneaking the handheld AM/FM radio I got for my birthday under my pillow. Slowly I drifted to sleep as Murph did what he did best. He’s one of our last links to the past teams. Whenever you turned on the radio to listen to game he’s always been there. Who can forget how the slightest bit of sadness turned to jubilation as the ball went through Buckner’s legs or the amazement in his voice as he proclaimed,  “And the Mets win the damn thing!” after nearly blowing an 8-run lead against the Phillies. Even his flubs were memorable: “A deep fly to center, it might be ... caught by the 2nd baseman.”  
 
We all knew retirement was coming though. Over the past couple of years Murph had begun to slowly lighten his work load. Time almost caught up with the timeless one when was hospitalized with pneumonia, but Murph rebounded like he always does. His occasional slip-ups were becoming more and more frequent. But despite the frequent “Murphs,” I still find myself muting the painfully obnoxious Tom Seaver and Keith Hernandez in favor of the old standby. For all of the professionalism and dignity he brought to the game, Bob was inducted into the Announcers and Writers wing of the Hall Of Fame in 1994. And on September 25th the Mets will honor him with Bob Murphy Night. He has earned it all, and now Murph will retire to Florida presumably to spend time with his family.  
 
It’s sad to think that the next generation of Mets fans won’t hear Murph call a game; an appreciation for his talents seems to be a common bond between all Mets fans. As one of the lucky ones that has enjoyed Murph for 20 years I would like thank him for a lifetime of memories and congratulate him for a tremendous career. We should all be so lucky to impact as many people as he did. So from the bottom of my heart, thank you Murph.

Photo from the Baseball Hall of Fame.