Hello. It is I, Robert Uecker. I am addressing you from PNC Park in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, where the Milwaukee Brewers have just defeated the Pittsburgh Pirates. Our record now stands at 81-79 with two games to go. No matter what transpires in the next two days, we have clinched a .500 record for the 2005 season, for the first time since 1992.

I am often asked, “Bob, what is it about this Brewers team that is so special, that has helped them to succeed where others have failed?” I answer, honestly, that it is the strong leadership of Manager Ned Yost, Pitching Coach Mike Maddux, Third Base Coach Walt Donnelly, General Manager Bob Melvin, and Owner Mark Attanasio. These men have made sure that the trains run on time. All men naturally rally to a strong governing hand, and these five fingers, clenched together, have formed a mighty fist.

We have also assembled a team that is fully committed to the ideals and philosophy of what it means to be a member of the Milwaukee Brewers. There is no concept of the Brewer which is not fundamentally a concept of life; philosophy or intuition, a system of ideas which develops logically or is gathered up into a vision or into a faith, but which is always, at least virtually, an organic conception of all of baseball.

Take, if you will, Derrick Turnbow. In his previous incarnation, as a member of the lazy laissez-faire California Angels, Turnbow was prone to control problems. And who could blame him? With his Ray Bolger nose and his jug ears, he looks like a blank-faced peasant. But even a peasant can rise, given the right leadership. This year, Coach Maddux imbued young Turnbow with the deep understanding of the closer’s role. Know that the relief pitcher, and in particular the closer, must not believe in perpetual peace. Daniel Kolb was weak, and not all the Mazzones in the world could save him from the Slough of Despond. But when Turnbow, this yokel, takes the mound, he changes into a warrior, a wizard, a true star. Hence, his saves.

Or Bill Hall. This youngster is modest, polite, shy to the point of pain. But that is until he dons his uniform. Then, he begins to believe in the Team, the Crew. Then, he crushes the ball like it is nothing, takes the extra base with no apologies, makes splendid sacrifices in the field to save his team. Discipline is the soul of armies; without it there are no soldiers, only confusion and defeat. Bill Hall has created his myth. The myth is a faith, it is passion. It is Milwaukee.

You are not used to hearing me talk this way. You are used to a clown, a self-deprecating glad-handing stooge who distracts the radio listener with spurious anecdotes about Joe Torre or bizarre fantasies regarding punching ostriches on the head. But no longer must I debase myself, dance for your peanuts like a monkey. Now the time for jokes is past. That opiate has done its job by lulling the opposition to sleep. Today, our plan has come to fruition. Today, we are men.

And I, too, am a man again. No more “Mr. Baseball,” no more “Mr. Belvidere,” no more “This must be the front row.” And definitely, no more sausages racing around the verdant expanse of Beautiful Miller Park. The great wheel has come around again. We begin this new era FREE MEN.

Tonight, we were behind, 5-0. But Geoff Jenkins’ and Damian Miller’s home runs have bought us the respect we deserve, after so many years on Bud Selig’s tight leash. The Pirates have been vanquished tonight, but so much else has been vanquished as well. No more will the chattering classes be able to hiss weakly about the ineptitude of this noble band. No more will these brave warriors have to be seen as Bud Selig’s servant boys. No more will Chicago and Cincinnati and Pittsburgh fans be able to chuckle derisively when they see MIL on the schedule. Instead, they shall quake in fear of their lives.

Hail the juggernaut of Chris Capuano! Hail the vengeful fists of J.J. Hardy! Hail Wes Helms, reborn, remixed, and reloaded! Hail Julio Santana, chopped and screwed!

An hour, signed by destiny, is ticking on the skies of baseball, an hour of irrevocable decisions. A declaration of war has been given to the ambassadors of the National League. Who will answer this call? WHO WILL DARE?

Bob Uecker is the Milwaukee Brewers’ radio announcer. He played for the world champion 1964 St. Louis Cardinals. He has appeared in commercials, television series, and feature films. He looks forward to a glorious future. First, however, he will golf! And perhaps physically assault some ostriches.