That's right, Jones called perhaps the single defining game in Penn State football history, that glorious night in the desert when the Nittany Lions went out and stopped the hated Miami Hurricanes to claim the then-mythical (arguably STILL mythical) national championship. As a proud alum, I have to link to this:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tOlpsEV_9gs
Jones had a warm, pleasant on-air demeanor, and if he was a terror off camera, please don't tell me about it. He was like a grandpa. As long as I listened to him, he looked old, sounded old, and generally radiated old. It wasn't the crotchety old of Mr. Potter, though, or even the comically crotchety old of Andy Rooney. No, it was the best kind of old for an announcer you're gonna listen to for the next 3 hours plus: amiable old. I half-expected him to show up in the booth wearing a sailor's hat and invite all us viewers to go fishing on his boat after the game.
I'm not talking Jack Buck old, which is a whole nother level of elder statesman, where you wonder how the guy makes it through a whole game at his age. No, Jones didn't have the massive charisma of an imitable guy like Buck. He was "just" a solid pro who served as a likable guide as you enjoyed a sporting event together.
Do we still have these kinds of guys around? Networks like to skew young, and the old guys that are left are either legendarily old (Vin Scully), trying too hard to flaunt it old (Barry Switzer on Fox NFL Sunday last season) or "I refuse to believe that they're old now because that makes ME feel old" old (Al Michaels, Marv Albert). Maybe Verne Lundquist?
At any rate, the news that Charlie Jones is gone saddens me, but his distinctive weathered voice lives on…especially if you play that Fiesta Bowl clip again and again.
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