How AM radio shaped me: NBA from Seattle, MLB from Anaheim, music from Portland

In late elementary school and junior high, my nighttime ritual was simple: I'd go to bed, turn on my Panasonic radio and begin searching for sports.

I lived in Humboldt County, about five hours north of San Francisco and seven hours south of Portland. Other than Giants and 49ers games broadcast on a Eureka radio station, there was no sports on local radio. We got two TV stations (no cable for my family), so I'd see national sports broadcasts on weekends only.

Laying in bed, I would find AM radio stations from far-off cities and tune in. Play-by-play of the NBA's Portland Trail Blazers and Seattle SuperSonics. Baseball games involving the Oakland A's, Seattle Mariners, California Angels and even the hated Los Angeles Dodgers. University of Southern California football and University of San Francisco basketball. The Denver Bears, then the top minor-league baseball affiliate of the Montreal Expos. Even the Bay Area Golden Gaters of World Team Tennis had games broadcast on a radio station I could pick up.

Those cities were hundreds – sometimes thousands – of miles from my bedroom, yet I could listen in. The broadcasts faded in and out, but I could hear them.

I also listened to a Portland station play the most-requested of the day every night. I listened to Ronn Owens host his talk show on San Francisco's KGO radio, unaware that I was hearing the early stages of arguably the greatest local talk show host career in radio history.

Those were – for me, at least – the glory days of AM radio.

I wrote a week ago about car manufacturers removing AM radio from many models. It made me sad because I loved AM radio. As a kid, it was my window to the rest of the world.

The AM signal travels farther (and has lower sound quality) than FM radio. Thus I could hear stations in Denver or Salt Lake City or Los Angeles or Seattle.

In 2023, it seems quaint. It sounds like how when old people used to talk about going to silent movies. In the internet era, when you can stream almost anything to your phone, the idea of a 13-year-old searching the radio band for a far-away baseball or NBA game seems ancient.

Yet AM radio had an impact. My favorite NBA team was the Sonics, not the Warriors (whose broadcasts I couldn't find). My dream job was being the play-by-play announcer for the Giants. My musical tastes were cemented by listening to the top-40 station in Portland playing the most-requested songs every night (which eliminated the chance for me to ever like hard rock).

AM radio is fading. Why listen to talk radio when you can hear a podcast? Why listen to static-filled music when you can stream it to your phone or car? Why find a distant radio station for baseball when the MLB app has all the broadcasts?

I don't believe childhood was better in the 1970s than it is now. I don't believe technology is ruining the world. I don't believe we were better off without the internet.

I just know I still have fond memories of listening to Bob Blackburn broadcasting Sonics games on KOMO radio and Bob Clarke presenting the most required songs of the day on KEX radio from Portland. In my childhood, AM radio brought the world outside my small town to my bedroom every night.

Decades from now, someone will talk about how obscure podcasts and TikTok shaped their childhood and it will seem similarly old-timey.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.