Milwaukee Says Goodbye To Bob Uecker

Sunday at American Family Field wasn’t just another game day. It was Milwaukee’s chance to say a proper goodbye to Bob Uecker, and let me tell you, they absolutely nailed it.

The Brewers rolled out the red carpet for their beloved broadcaster, who spent 54 years behind the mic, and honestly, it was the kind of send-off that would’ve made old Bob himself crack a joke about how he didn’t deserve all the fuss. But here’s the thing. He absolutely did.

When “Ueck” Became More Than a Name

Picture this: every single Brewers player taking the field with “UECK” stitched across their jerseys instead of their own names. For one day, they weren’t Christian Yelich or Brandon Woodruff. They were all Bob Uecker, and somehow that felt perfectly right.

Those jerseys aren’t just hanging in some storage closet either. The team’s auctioning them off through September 8 with all proceeds going to Uecker’s favorite charities: Wounded Warrior Project, the ALS Association, and pancreatic cancer research. Because even in death, he was still looking out for others.

The Ceremony That Made Grown Men Cry

Bob Costas, yeah, that Bob Costas, emceed an hour-long celebration that had more emotional punches than a heavyweight fight. But the real knockout came when Robin Yount stepped up to the microphone. Yount, the greatest Brewer ever, told a story about meeting Uecker back in 1974 when Robin was just an 18-year-old kid about to start at shortstop on Open ing Day.

Here is a guy who knew Uecker for five decades, and his parting words about his friend? Classic Uecker humor, even about death itself. “Right to the end,” Yount said, “he told me he wasn’t afraid of dying. He just didn’t want to be there when it happened.”

More Than Just a Voice In the Booth

Here is what gets me about Uecker. He was just like the players. Woodruff remembers finding Uecker swimming laps in the clubhouse resistance pool while rehabbing an injury. Ted Simmons talked about how Uecker’s catching knowledge helped him learn a new pitching staff when he joined Milwaukee in 1981. This wasn’t some suit who showed up for games and disap peared. He was in the trenches, literally and figuratively, for over half a century.

The Perfect Imperfect Ending

Want to know how much the baseball gods have a sense of humor? The ceremonial first pitch, thrown by Uecker’s son to Robin Yount with the whole team in those “UECK” jerseys watching, ailed just a bit outside.

Juuuust a bit outside. If you know, you know. And if you don’t, well, you missed out on one of baseball’s greatest inside jokes becoming the perfect tribute moment.

A Legacy That Lives On

The Brewers didn’t just throw a party and call it good. They renamed the broadcast wing the “Bob Uecker Broadcast Center” and updated his medallion next to the retired numbers with a microphone symbol. Because while Yount and Paul Molitor were incredible players, Uecker was something different entirely. He was the voice of Milwaukee baseball.

Sure, they lost the game 4-3 to San Francisco , but sometimes the scoreboard doesn’t tell the whole story. Sometimes it is about honoring a man who turned a .200 batting average into a 54-year love affair with an entire city. Manager Pat Murphy said it best after the game: “God, I wish we could have got that for Ueck.” But honestly? I think they did get it for him. They got him exactly what he would’ve wanted. A ballpark full of people laughing, crying, and remembering why baseball matters.

Rest easy, “Mr. Baseball.” Milwaukee won’t forget.