Herb was the "Voice of the Indians" on either TV or radio from1964-97. He didn't sing "Take Me Out to the Ballgame" like Harry Caray or cry "How about that?" like Mel Allen. He didn't root like Phil ...

Reaction from Indians officials on the passing of legendary pitcher and broadcaster Herb Score. Score died this morning at his home in Rocky River. He was 75. Team President Paul Dolan: "Today is a ...

Herb Score was, of course, the Indians radio voice when I was young. I know I’ve written before (I know!) that people around town called him Herb “No” Score for the obvious reasons, but I firmly ...

As promised in our last installment, here are some words on Indians‘ great Herb Score, who passed away earlier this month. Score was one of the most promising young pitchers of all time, and for a ...

He might have been the greatest lefthander of them all. Greater than Grove. Greater than Koufax. Greater than Carlton. Just about anyone who was around when Herb Score first hit the big leagues with ...

Herb Score, the Cleveland Indians pitcher and former broadcaster whose promise on the mound was shattered by a line drive, died Tuesday at his home in Rocky River, Ohio, the team said in a statement.

When I was a seven or eight-year-old kid growing up in West Virginia, I was always playing baseball, sometimes with others, and at times alone. I would go through the motions of pitching, as though I ...

former broadcaster whose promise on the mound was shattered by a line drive, died Tuesday. He was 75. Herb Score was named the AL's Rookie of the Year in 1955 and was an All-Star twice in his career.

Herb Score appeared to be on his way to becoming the next dominant pitcher for the Cleveland Indians. That hope seemingly ended on this day in 1957, when Score was hit in the face with a line drive, ...

Herb Score, the former Cleveland and White Sox left-hander who was known more for the accident that almost took his right eye than for his brilliant pitching, died Tuesday at age 75. Score died at his ...

More than anyone else on a baseball diamond, pitchers stand in the direct line of fire. By the time they finish their follow-through, they are even closer to home plate than sixty feet, six inches.

I suspect only baseball lovers whose formative years coincided with a former president of Columbia University in the White House will bother to read this little essay, for the name in its title will ...