It was no secret that Bob Uecker kept busy. He was typically found in the booth for Brewers games or raising money for Make-A-Wish Wisconsin. He was also known to spend a lot of time on his boat.
A native of Wisconsin, born and raised in Milwaukee, Uecker turned a middling, five-year stint as an MLB catcher during the 1960s into a broadcasting career that spanned six decades, made him a mainstay in Hollywood and saw his everyman persona become as synonymous with the Brewers as the Miller Lite beer he served as spokesman for.
Bob Uecker, whose self-deprecating wit helped him parlay a mediocre baseball career into stardom as a broadcaster, actor and pitchman for beer from his hometown of Milwaukee, Wisconsin, died on Thursday at age 90,
Whether you know him from his broadcasting work in Major League Baseball, through his appearances back in the day on the Tonight Show with Johnny Carson, as a television actor, for his role in Miller Lite commercials or as Harry Doyle from the movie Major League,
The baseball community is mourning the loss of Bob Uecker following the death of the longtime Milwaukee Brewers broadcaster at the age of 90.
Bob Uecker, known throughout the United States as “Mr. Baseball” died January 16 at the age of 90. Ten years ago, the then-Archbishop of Milwaukee Jerome E. Listecki – who retired last year – said Uecker used “self-effacing humor to bring appreciation and joy to those who share a love for the game he so well represents.”
Governor Tony Evers honors the late Bob Uecker, celebrating his legacy as "Mr. Baseball" in Wisconsin and beyond.
Bob Uecker was the voice of his hometown Milwaukee Brewers who after a short playing career earned the moniker "Mr. Baseball" and honors from the Hall of Fame.
I turned 13 during 1967’s Summer of Love. There was no time more eventful for a red-blooded American boy to become a teenager. A cultural phenomenon was
Word of Bob Uecker’s death reached us after the editorials for last Friday’s edition were already done. But there’s no way we can let his passing go without a tribute.
A whole different kind of 'technical debt' turned into real-world trouble Who, Me? Accidents will happen, and every Monday The Register celebrates them – and your escape from the consequences – in a fresh instalment of Who,