Super Spectator

Jim Murray lost some vision

And we all saw less.

Super Spectator in Spectator Country,

He was our human satellite

Scanning the sports world

From loft professional vantage,


Sending signals to us

At morning coffee in Malibu

Or on the 6 a.m. from Greenwich.

Orbiting galactic happenings —

The Derby, the Series, the Bowls.

Super Correspondent

Covering the star wars.

Transmitting no cold

Electronic images,

But word pictures to be

Digested, spiced by his prose and wit,

Warmed to taste

By his humanity.

His eyes, the eyes of millions.

Super Tourist from Tourist Country,

Telling tales of Russia in the

Summer of our Olympic discontent;

Bearding the bear in his den.

Thoughts to impact multitudes

With delight,

Even belly laughs,

Except in Moscow or Cincinnati,

Then it’s, “Send back the keys, Jim!”

One eye lost, gone

Like a friend deserting

The other uncertain.

He stood on the brink of darkness,

His sight dimmed, but not his gratitude

For memories of shining hours.

Memories that are our memories.

Gratitude that is our gratitude.

His loss that is our loss.

Jim Murray’s eyes were the eyes of all of us.

Bill Dowey

The Malibu Times is the first newspaper in Malibu, serving the community since 1946.

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