Fans at Cashman Field missing their old friend Blum

The setting sun turned the early evening sky as vivid as any painted movie set. The pale blues and pinks set the perfect tone for the end of a summer day and the start of another Pacific Coast League game at Cashman Field.

The Smiths are baseball fans. Amelia and I like to arrive early, chat up old friends and make new ones. My daughter is a girly-girl at heart, but she's proud of her autographed baseball collection, and on Sunday she was excited to throw out the first pitch as part of the Review-Journal's sponsorship of the game between the 51s and the Salt Lake Bees.

But someone was missing from the idyllic scene.

It was our first game without seeing our friend Bob Blum, the longtime radio announcer and assistant to the general manager of the Las Vegas team. Blum died recently at age 91.

"He was such a nice man," Amelia said.

That he was. For those lucky enough to know him, Blum was like a favorite uncle. You might not see him every day, but whenever you did, he came with a bounty of stories and gifts. When he learned Amelia collected baseballs, Bob made a point of rummaging through his supply and tapping some of the many big-league friends he had made in his long career as a broadcaster and publicity man.

When word circulated through the sporting community that Bob had died, it seemed nearly everyone had a story of the kind-hearted "Bloomer ," who was quick with a quip or to share a fact or "possible feature" with any reporter willing to listen. More than one generation of newspaper and television scribes benefited from Bob's generosity and experienced perspective.

Bob's career in sports was essentially preordained. Future UCLA basketball coaching legend John Wooden was his English teacher at South Bend High back in his Indiana hometown.

His voice was familiar to fans of the San Francisco Giants, Oakland Raiders and San Diego Chargers. He broadcast NFL Pro Bowls and even the 1960 Winter Olympics in nearly a quarter century in the Bay Area. He also handled play-by-play for a variety of college sports teams from San Jose State and Santa Clara University to UNLV's own Lady Rebels basketball squad. In Nevada, he was a member of three halls of fame.

I would like to think he found his home at Cashman Field, first with the Stars and then with the 51s. He knew the history of the franchise as well as anyone. The 51s' Executive Director Don Logan saw him every summer evening for nearly three decades.

Blum was at Cashman when they turned out the lights and among the first in the office the next morning. Of course, as the decades passed he changed his approach to the game.

Like an aging but reliable starter, in recent years he no longer went the distance but left after the fifth or sixth inning. And he was at the office the next morning in time for the first pot of coffee.

He was a jack-of-all-trades capable of handling the press, ingratiating the team with local high school baseball coaches, putting together programs and notes, nailing down details and, of course, filling in on radio broadcasts.

"Cashman was a central part of his existence," Logan says. "It's sad to come around here and not see him. It's really tough."

Everyone at the ballpark misses their friend Bob.

At the Club Level restaurant, host Jim LaRocca says, "Bob always had a joke to tell and was always in a good mood. You'd never see Bob with a frown."

As a tribute, the 51s players now wear a shoulder patch with the initials "RJB" and the drawing of an old-style radio microphone.

And on the outfield fence in deep center field, a tribute is painted in large white letters against a deep blue background: "Robert J. Blum 1920-2012."

Bob Blum would have told them they didn't need to go to all the trouble. But he would have been proud.

John L. Smith's column appears Sunday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday. Email him at Smith@reviewjournal.com or call 702-383-0295. He also blogs at lvrj.com/blogs/smith. Follow him on Twitter @jlnevadasmith.