Ed Farmer Embodied Chicago White Sox Baseball
Former Chicago White Sox right-hander, 11-year Major League pitcher and longtime radio broadcaster Ed Farmer passed away on Wednesday, April 1st at the age of 70 years old.
His passing means the White Sox community lost one of its own. Born in Evergreen Park, Farmer attended St. Rita High School on the southwest side. In his journey throughout the majors, the former reliever got a chance to pitch for an organization he grew up rooting for.
As a big-leaguer, “Farmio” pitched for nine teams from 1971 to 1983. The best portion of his career came during his three-year stint with the White Sox, which included 233.1 innings and a lone All-Star nod in 1980.
Typically, when someone spends 11 years in Major League Baseball, the history books tend to highlight his time as a player. Farmer is more of an anomaly to that artificial rule, as his value as a person was immeasurable.
Farmer naturally embodied the spirit that makes this town unique. He was also incredibly genuine.
Sometimes when I go to Guaranteed Rate Field, I run into some out of town fans and love striking conversation. In those instances, on such a minimal scale, I want to provide visitors a warm welcome to Chicago by extending a friendly gesture so that when they look back at their experience, they can hold on to that feeling of comfortability while having just left a somewhat unfamiliar place. I believe, on a much larger scale, Ed Farmer portrayed that same sort of warmth with every interaction throughout each day that he lived.
Farmer experienced the dream of essentially being a part of the White Sox family since the beginning. He had success as a broadcaster because his persona never changed from when his mic was hot to when he greeted the local deli owner who he’d of course known for years.
Farmer was the sort of voice who would verbally jab at his partner with a smile during a broadcast, but listeners wouldn’t be able to tell that the tandem in the booth were laughing and pointing at one another while the Sox had men at the corners with one out.
Farmer was also brutally honest. A trained ear could recognize when he was pissed at his club during an off night on the field or when he admired the effort put forth by the group during a prolonged losing streak.
I continue to refer back to the word “genuine” as it relates to Ed Farmer’s life and professional career. He wore his heart on his sleeve, he never veered from who he was and White Sox fans wanted nothing more out of a man tasked to call all 162 games on the radio – a much different undertaking than television. Whether you loved or hated his style as a broadcaster, there is no denying Ed Farmer encapsulated what it meant to be the voice of the White Sox.
As an aspiring broadcaster throughout college, I tried broadening my horizons as to who I could model my cadences after. When it came to Farmio, I always admired his ability to keep listeners engaged. A lot of that had to do with his storytelling ability.
Hypothetically, the man could look to his left and notice a thumbtack that would jog his memory about something relevant and would proceed to captivate his audience by explaining said thumbtack held a precious fan letter which hung on his bulletin board, or something of the like. He had such a knack for that.
I remember at SoxFest two years ago that Farmer hosted a panel. He sat down at his chair, grabbed the mic after a simple introduction and went right into a story unprompted. Some people just have a gift.
There are several instances of downtime in every game during radio broadcasts. Sometimes, for me, that was the best part of listening to White Sox baseball on either WSCR, WLS or most recently WGN because I would find myself more engaged in the anecdote than what was happening on the field.
Farmer was also so good at bringing in his color guy. He’d often say, “What did you see there,” or “what was that pitch,” knowing full well the answer to those types of questions. Sure, that’s essentially basic protocol for play-by-play announcers, but it seemed Farmer was unique in the way he did the job.
The last thing I’ll mention is my total admiration for his determination across his last two years on this earth. Farmer dealt with some serious medical issues. It was apparent he was struggling.
Farmer would never tell you that, though. He showed up – especially last season – across nearly an entire broadcast schedule and gave it his all until the very end. Ed Farmer was inspiring and if I ever need a source of motivation, I know I can think back to my mentor from afar and gather that drive to keep me going.
Our writers at FutureSox also chimed in to incorporate their unique perspectives of the late Chicago White Sox.
James Fox
Farmer narrated my summer in many cases. I worked at a shoe store for 6 years before I started teaching. Farmer’s voice was always on in our stockroom as we had the game on the radio every night.
Ken Sawilchik
Farmer was the backdrop of my summers. I would time my yardwork to coincide with the game, so I could listen to him. I remember a game just before the All-Star break. Farmer was talking about his flight home. The game went into extra innings. It was funny listening as his frustration became more and more apparent as the game wore on. He ended up missing his flight.
Sean Williams
Whenever I can’t watch a White Sox game, I would have it on the radio at work or in my car while I’m driving home. Farmer always made me feel like I was watching and I could feel the passion behind his voice. He was a voice of the White Sox for many years and a lot of memories are tied to him.
David Wildman
Farmer one time walked up while I was at a game with my girlfriend admiring the Hawk plaque outside the booth. He asked, “Wanna go inside?” We were allowed in to the broadcast booth and Farmer let us take pictures and everything. He told me: “Women are the light of our life. Without them we’d be lost.”
Steve Hasman
I just remember turning off the TV call during the World Series so that I could hear the radio broadcast instead. Even though Ed wasn’t the PBP guy, I craved that homerism during that magical run.
Jasper Roos
Living half-way across the world from Chicago, any Sox night game is on in the middle of the night for me. More often than not, that meant I wasn’t able to watch the game. I can’t even count the number of times I’ve fallen asleep to Farmio’s voice though, waking up only briefly to him shouting SOX WIN, SOX WIN in my ears before I’d fall back asleep.
Mike Rankin
Ed Farmer was my favorite. I leave you with this:
*Audio highlights courtesy WSCR
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Well done, guys!
Chicago’s south side baseball where we played as kids included cracked whiffle balls, broken rubber balls, 16”ers with strings hanging out a seam, and dark brown scuffed up baseballs. I couldn’t hit a clean white ball ever it scared me. Hitting those targets gets into a kids DNA and produces some great baseball and life example legends like Ed Farmer who was a great player, announcer and an example of tough south side ball players. Thank you for this tribute.