It's a sad day in our industry as one of the true legends of local sports broadcasting has passed away. With style and wit, humility and panache, Gary Papa informed and entertained Philadelphia sports fans for 28 years. His untimely death at age 54 reminds me how precious every day is on this earth.
My memories of Gary are wide-ranging. When I arrived at WFMZ-Allentown in 2000, I worked in the Reading office. My anchoring skills were raw and uninspiring. Thanks to some supportive colleagues, that changed over time.
Manoj Shamdasani, our executive producer in Reading, was incredibly encouraging.
When I asked him what he thought made a good sports anchor, he said, "See him. Do it like him and you'll be great."
Manoj was talking about Gary Papa.
Effortless and conversational are just two of many flowery words that could aptly describe Gary's style. He was your buddy, your inside source - and if he was ever nervous you didn't know it. He had unique relationships with athletes and viewers alike.
Once, the Colts Marvin Harrison lit up the Eagles at Veterans Stadium. Marvin isn't a big talker, but since he was from Philly, a number of reporters were chasing him down on the field after the game trying to get his reaction. He blew everybody off, until he saw Gary.
"Hey man, I used to watch you on TV growing up. I'll talk to you," said Marvin.
"Well I appreciate that," said Gary. "I watch you now, so I guess we're even."
The interview went about two minutes - an eternity for a post-game on the field interview with any player - let alone Marvin Harrison - and Channel 6 played the whole damn thing!
Gary Papa could get blood out of stone. He could sell Jack LaLanne an ice cream bar and convince him it was healthy. Heck, he probably convinced Villanova they had a shot at beating Georgetown in '85.
Shortly after I arrived in Detroit, the Pistons played the Sixers in the NBA's opening playoff round. We traveled to Philly for Games 3 and 4.
After Game 4, I was waiting to do my live shot outside the Wachovia Center, sharing a truck and crew with Gary. I told him what Manoj had once said to me - "Do it like him and you'll be great."
Gary's response? "Don't always believe what you hear."
We had this conversation in a tricked-out, gas-guzzling SUV. What was a 50 year-old white guy fighting prostate cancer doing in this ride?
"This was Hollis Thomas' truck," said Gary, referring to the former Eagle defensive tackle.
"How did you end up with it?" I asked.
"He didn't want it, asked me if I wanted to buy it and he gave it to me for a good price," said Gary.
In my mind, I'm picturing Gary Papa waiting to do a live interview with Hollis Thomas after an Eagles game. Both of these guys are ridiculously unique, so the off-camera conversation had to be classic.
Papa's so good he got himself a new car during a postgame show. It's probably not exactly true, but I'm sticking with it because with him (and Hollis), it's believable.
That day in April of 2005 was the only day I spent significant one-on-one time with Gary Papa, but even then I knew it was special. Not for a moment did I think he'd be dead in four years.
He was full of life and laughs and three minutes after I was done with my live shot, I watched him do sports from outside the Wachovia - not through the tube, but in the flesh.
Over and over in my head, I said, "Do it like him and you'll be great."
I'll keep trying. Thanks, Gary. Millions will miss you and no one will ever forget you.
