The Long Game
Tonight, Denny Matthews will call his 8,000th Royals game, a number that is almost impossible to comprehend.
He started with the franchise in 1969, the Royals’ first season, and has called games across seven decades, including every division-winning team, all four pennants and both World Series championships. His first Royals game came 103 days before Apollo 11 landed on the moon.
For a little personal perspective, I’ve been in this business for 32 years and am finishing my 19th season with the Royals. Somehow, I’ve become one of the older guys around here, yet Denny was calling Royals games before I was born.
Unlike so many people in Kansas City, Denny wasn’t the voice of my childhood. We’ve never really worked together, other than having him as an occasional guest on our broadcasts, but we’ve carpooled to events and even called three minor league hockey games together. Those opportunities have given me a chance to get to know him beyond the voice everyone knows and to pick up plenty from watching and listening to him.
Wrigley Field, 2025
Eight thousand games is the headline, but I was more interested in what it takes to last that long, so I asked him the key to longevity.
“Luck, good health. Take care of yourself.”
As Denny continued talking, though, it became clear there was more to it. He kept coming back to the people who surrounded him along the way: owners, executives, managers, players and broadcast partners. As Denny put it, an organization is really just people, and “it’s the people that count.”
One of those people was his original broadcast partner, Buddy Blattner. Denny arrived at 26 with almost no experience calling baseball, and Buddy could have taught him to sound like Buddy. Instead, he encouraged him to find his own voice, giving him room to listen, make mistakes and develop his own style.
Nearly six decades later, Denny passes along the same advice to young broadcasters: Be yourself. Pay attention to people you admire and take what you can from them, but ultimately figure out who you are and do it your way.
There’s another part of Denny that has always fascinated me. He has an uncanny ability during games to say what feels like a prediction, only to have it happen moments later. I asked him about his supposed crystal ball, and he pushed back on the idea that he’s predicting anything. Baseball is too unpredictable for that. He called it a feeling, something that comes from watching closely enough and long enough to sense what might be coming.
Maybe that’s what experience really gives us. Not the ability to predict what happens next, but the perspective to recognize patterns, trust our instincts and understand that we still might be wrong.
And then there’s my favorite part of Denny’s story, which has nothing to do with broadcasting.
Last offseason, in his 80s, Denny got married for the first time, naturally at Kauffman Stadium.
Denny and Amy Matthews Wedding at Kauffman Stadium, 2025
I asked him which was more unlikely: calling 8,000 Royals games or having a Kauffman Stadium wedding, or any wedding for that matter. He never thought he would marry.
He picked the wedding.
Almost a year later, he said he’s still getting used to married life and is “learning every day on the job.”
There’s something fitting about that. You can spend 58 years doing something, reach the Hall of Fame, become the soundtrack for generations and still find yourself somewhere new, figuring things out as you go.
Eight thousand is the number everyone will celebrate tonight, but what I’ll take from Denny’s story has less to do with the number than what it took to get there: taking care of yourself, surrounding yourself with the right people, becoming comfortable with who you are, trusting the perspective that comes with experience and staying open to whatever comes next.
That’s Small Ball.
What has helped you build longevity in the things that matter most to you?