I sang the national anthem at a Cincinnati Cyclones game in 2008, a great memory. I really love to sing and was undaunted by the musical and political challenges “The Star-Spangled Banner” so famously poses. I didn’t fear showing up in video montages of national anthems gone wrong, because I’m good at remembering song lyrics. My enthusiastic performance that night undoubtedly helped push the Cyclones past the Dayton Bombers, 3–2.
But enough about me and hockey, because baseball season is here! This year we’re celebrating the 50th anniversary of the greatest Cincinnati Reds season ever: 1975, when the Big Red Machine beat the Boston Red Sox in the ninth inning of the seventh game of the most exciting World Series in baseball history. (ESPN ranked it No. 1 in 2020.) But enough about the games themselves. I want to highlight the most forgotten and neglected parts of that historic series: people like me, performers of our national anthem!
Do not laugh. Every Major League Baseball game features someone belting out “The Star-Spangled Banner,” immediately followed by someone complaining about it. The grumbling started in 1968, when José Feliciano’s unusual interpretation sent brains bursting in air. Performances have varied widely ever since. The 1975 Reds postseason had its share of national anthem wins, losses, and errors, which we shall now recall. Please remove your hats.
Truth be told, I should wait until next year to do this remembrance. The Reds not only repeated their World Series victory in 1976, but did so in a four-game sweep. More importantly, the Reds beat America’s most famous team from its most famous city, the New York Yankees, and thus attracted a more famous roster of national anthem singers. The previous year’s matchup didn’t have the same gravitational pull for celebrities willing to sing about the perilous fight. But that doesn’t mean things weren’t interesting.
The first interesting thing I discovered during my research is how few people think this topic is interesting. Baseball historians passionately log the particulars of each game—the venue, attendance, weather, game length, box score, spit trajectories, etc.—but almost none register the many thousands of national anthem performers unless they sounded unusually bad. But enough about Roseanne Barr; she sang during a regular season game and doesn’t qualify for this story.
I’m proud to report that after digging deep into my internet bookmarks and media sports contacts, I managed to claw out the names of 10 of 11 national anthem performers from the 1975 and 1976 postseasons, earning me a batting average of .909. And this one belongs to me.
The 1975 World Series began at Boston’s Fenway Park on Saturday, October 11, just hours before the premiere of Saturday Night Live. “The Star-Spangled Banner” was performed by Jane Morin, a well-known Boston jazz singer. Morin had been born blind, so it was somewhat ironic that she was handed a deaf microphone. The bad connection eventually sparked to life and gave proof to the stands that her voice was still there.
Marty Brennaman doesn’t remember Jane. That’s no surprise, because he was the Cincinnati Reds play-by-play announcer for 46 years, has witnessed “The Star-Spangled Banner” 8,000 times or so, and at that moment was about to call his first World Series. Morin’s brief problem didn’t make the cut in Marty’s memory bank.
He remembers only a few particulars from a lifetime of national anthems …but enough about Roseanne Barr. He does, though, clearly recall those two-minute performances always standing apart from everything else. Marty and his on-air partner, Joe Nuxhall, took the anthem seriously. “Joe would yell at anybody he saw nearby who hadn’t stood up or taken off their hat,” he tells me. And while Marty appreciates that the teams on the field are laser-focused on winning the game, he gets annoyed when he sees a player disrespecting the anthem’s brief performance. “If I was down there in a uniform knowing that a TV camera might focus on me, I would never chew gum or stare down at the ground or smirk.”
OK, back to Fenway Park. The second game’s national anthem came from the U.S. Navy Band and a sailor soloist. Yawn. This is what I mean when I compare 1975 performers to the ones who showed up the following year. The first two games of the ’76 Series featured country star Charley Pride and singer/TV star Della Reese, so you see my point. And the third pair of games compare only slightly better.
When the 1975 Reds came home to Cincinnati for their first World Series since 1940, the national anthem singer couldn’t have been a better choice: Marian Spelman. Younger readers won’t recognize that name, but she was one of Cincinnati’s most beloved entertainers. She hit it out of the park—and, by the way, so did Bench, Concepción, and Gerónimo. Compare that with the third game in 1976, featuring opera star Robert Merrill, a regular at Yankee Stadium who was so beloved the stadium kept playing recordings of him long after he was dead. And they say parochial old Cincinnati can’t let go of its past.
With one huge exception, the performers from both years were less interesting from Game Four onward, so I’ll just skim them. There was a minor league Sinatra named John Gary, and some more military bands. The 1976 World Series ended at Game Four, and 1975’s Game Five was the one where I couldn’t find the singer. That brings us to the huge exception: Game Six. You true baseball fans have been waiting for me to get here since we started, so let’s go.
Game Six of the 1975 World Series is considered by many to be the greatest single game in the history of professional baseball. Twelve innings. Twelve pitchers. Back-and-forth scores. Heart-stopping plays at the plate, and a game-winning homer that’s included in every collage of baseball’s greatest moments. But there’s one thing from that incredible night I’ll bet you don’t know, and you should, because it’s a sports cliché come true: An ailing major star was replaced at the last minute by a rookie, whose performance launched him to lifelong fame.
It all happened before the first pitch. Kate Smith, the world-famous singer, was supposed to do a special performance of her signature song, “God Bless America,” in place of the national anthem. Smith took sick, however, sending Fenway Park management scrambling. They found a local opera singer, Rene Rancourt, and he wisely demurred to perform Kate’s song. His over-the-top rendition of “The Star-Spangled Banner” got the attention of the Boston Bruins, who quickly snagged him as their hockey team’s official vocalist. Rancourt sang at every Boston Bruins home game for the next 42 years. Thanks, Kate.
Brennaman was a witness to the very best baseball game ever played and 15 years later to the very worst national anthem ever sung (last mention of Roseanne, I promise). You may be surprised to know that he enjoyed José Feliciano’s controversial rendition and has no problem with singers who tailor the song to their own musical style. “As long as it’s respectful and not too over the top, I’m fine with it,” he says. I’m sure Marty would have liked my straight-ahead performance at the 2008 Cyclones game. Let’s remember that the Cyclones won after they heard me, but the Reds lost after hearing Rene and Roseanne (sorry, I lied).
Many Americans don’t like “The Star-Spangled Banner” because of its melody and/or lyrics. People often suggest replacing it with “God Bless America,” “America the Beautiful,” or “God Bless the USA,” but church/state opponents have the usual problem with those songs mentioning God (which the complete lyrics to “The Star-Spangled Banner” also do). Maybe someday our national anthem will be replaced by a deity-free song with less controversy, like “Baby It’s Cold Outside.”
I’m still OK with the song we’ve got, even as I increasingly struggle with those high notes. At sporting events I always do Marty and Joe proud by standing and doffing my hat. I hope you’ll now notice America’s song more, too, at every Reds game you attend this season. Play ball!
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