When he began with the Reds in 1942 there was just a scattering of former players who had made the transition into top flight broadcasters. Jack Graney in Cleveland, Harry Heilmann in Detroit, and Frankie Frisch in Boston were the most prominent. "The athlete-announcers of today don't realize how tough we had it at first because those so-called professionals who had preceded us had schooled the public wrongly. We had to break down all the misconceptions, the misinterpretations of rules, and the vernacular that our predecessors had interpreted according to their own whimsy."
With his casual but sincere, matter-of-fact style, Waite became a tremendous favorite with the fans in the Cincinnati area. As the years went by he became as much a part of the club as the players themselves. Twenty seasons of big-league experience, where he had associated with some of the game's greatest stars, gave him a wealth of anecdotal material to draw upon. His storehouse of memories and recollections of his pal and teammate, Babe Ruth, are incomparable. Listeners used to pray for rain so he would have the opportunity to reminisce about days gone by. Whereas all other stations would return to the studio for some recorded music when there was a rain delay, Cincinnati fans crowded closer to their radios to hear Waite tell about the Big Guy (Ruth) when he was in his prime. He also used the rain breaks to try and get over the idea that everyone makes mistakes, including sports announcers. "I would try to philosophize and level with the people. I just did the best I could and that's all anybody can do."
By pursuing perfection, Waite Hoyt became, without really realizing it, one of the finest broadcasters in baseball. In the process, Cincinnati became his hometown and the Reds became his team. Through the good years and the bad, he remained at his post. In 1952, he pioneered the idea of the simulcast -- reporting for both television and radio simultaneously. Cincinnati, with its staunch German traditions was a slow city to change. Thus, Waite was the last of the Major League announcers to abandon the telegraphic studio recreations. In 1961, after years of adversity, the Reds copped the National League pennant, and their broadcaster received one of his great thrills -- being with a pennant winner again. "Cincinnati is my town," he is quick to say. "I pay my taxes here, my son was brought up here, my friends are here, my money was made her and I’ll be buried here.”
Twenty-four years and 4,000 games after Ellen Hoyt informed her husband that he needed more polish behind the microphone, Waite Charles Hoyt signed off the air for the final time from Crosley Field. The guy they once called “School Boy” formally bowed out after 50 years in baseball.
“The big adventure is over,” he said when he left the Reds broadcast booth. He didn’t leave without fanfare, however, as in response to the many, many requests from the fans, a “Waite Hoyt Day” was held at Crosley Field on Sunday, September 5, 1965. Before Hoyt called it quits, Russ Hodges, the voice of the Giants, said of him: “Waite Hoyt is authoritative. When he makes a statement there is no doubt as to its accuracy. When Hoyt says it’s so, the Cincinnati public goes by what he says. He gives a clean-cut description of the game, drawing a clear, positive picture for his listeners. His voice is really very fine. During the occasional lulls he dips into a vast sore of baseball knowledge. His stories of associations with such immortals as Babe Ruth, Lou Gehrig, John McGraw and countless others are a delight for Waite’s fans. One thing I’m positive about,” concluded Hodges, “is the fact that he is just as fine an announcer as he was a player.”