A Dodgers broadcasting legend reflects on life, superstar-laden team

Los Angeles Times

27-03-2025

He's 89 years old and has been retired for two years, but Dodgers broadcasting legend Jaime Jarrín looked like he was ready to call another season or three as he strode into Gale's Restaurant in Pasadena.
The mellifluous tenor that narrated Dodgers games for generations of Spanish-language listeners hasn't weakened. His magnificent head of hair remains full. His capacity to tell tales is still worthy of Gabriel García Márquez.
It was the lunch rush earlier this week, yet every Gale's server, busboy and cook stopped what they were doing to shake Jarrín's hand. Wearing a crisp outfit of brown khakis, an Ecuador soccer jersey, Harold Lloyd-style glasses and a 1988 Dodgers World Series championship ring that was simultaneously brilliant yet understated, he greeted them all by name.
'I've eaten here over 20 years,' Jarrín said in Spanish as we made our way toward his regular spot near a wall of glass block windows. 'When my wife was alive, we'd come in at least four times a week. If I like something, I stay with it.'
Ya think?
The Hall of Famer called Dodgers games for 64 years, the second longest tenure for one team of any baseball broadcaster after his dear friend, Vin Scully. Jarrín and his late wife, Blanca, were married for 65 years. He has lived in the same San Marino home since 1965. He's still a spokesperson for the Los Defensores legal firm, a relationship that goes back 41 years.
Jarrín never misses a Dodgers game on television and attends home games whenever possible, 'because I do miss a little bit the atmosphere of the stadium.'
But his big project these days isn't baseball.
He serves as the name and face of a scholarship fund that has awarded more than a quarter million dollars to students. His sons Jorge and Mauricio founded it in 2019 to honor their mother, who died of a heart attack during spring training that year.
'My name is the only thing I have,' Jarrín said as he sipped on an Arnold Palmer and nibbled on complimentary bruschetta. Jorge, himself a broadcaster of note, joined us. 'It's not necessary to have our name [on the fund], but to be able to be associated with something that helps others is wonderful because the need is so obvious and large.
'The community has been so loyal to me, so kind,' he continued. 'And in our business — radio, television — if you don't have followers, it's over. So the least I can do is give back.'
A waiter came over to take our order. 'Denos unos minutitos, por favor,' Jarrín said. Please give us a few minutes, sir.
There were stories to tell.
He remembered as a teenage radio reporter in the 1950s going into the newsroom of El Comercio, the largest newspaper in Quito, Ecuador, in the early morning to swipe stories from desks, 'but since we were the same company, it didn't matter.'
Then there was the time in the 1970s when Sears was expecting 500 people to show up at its landmark Boyle Heights store for a live broadcast with Jarrín, Davey Lopes, Steve Garvey and Ron Cey. About 15,000 people showed up instead: 'We told the players, 'Here's your check — go! Go! We're not responsible for your security.'
Above all, Jarrín praised his 'extraordinary teacher,' Scully.
'When Blanca died, he called me,' he said. A small bowl of corn chowder was now before him. He tucked a large napkin over his Ecuador soccer jersey. 'And they were the most beautiful 20 minutes of my life. Listening to Vin talking in that melodious voice — his mastery of the language, that vocabulary, that intonation, that heart. He spoke from experience, because he had lost his wife too.'
Scully passed away in 2022, just a few months before Jarrín called his last game. Jorge said Scully inadvertently served as an inspiration for him and his brother to start their family foundation.
'We started to discuss, 'How are we going to maintain and perpetuate his legacy and not let it fade away?'' he said. 'It's wonderful the love that people had for Vin Scully. But in another generation or so, it'll just be, 'Oh yeah, I heard of that guy — they say he was a great announcer.'
He looked at his dad, who was busy forking through a small house salad with extra garbanzos, and smiled. 'My father doesn't want to write a book because he doesn't feel that the story is over. But this, he's proud of.'
Jorge joked that the Jaime and Blanca Jarrín Foundation is 'done on our laptops out of the house' with the help of his brother and sons. They've yet to ask the Dodgers to donate — 'but the wife of [Dodgers CEO] Mark Walter sends us a check,' Jaime noted. Students of all backgrounds and interests can apply, but two scholarships are set aside for students pursuing law and journalism — the former as a nod to the Jarrín Foundation's primary sponsor, Los Defensores, the latter in honor of Jaime's career.
Not that he's happy about the state of journalism.
'Maybe I'm a dummy, but I don't get it,' he said, his voice suddenly sharp. 'In all industries, when the competition is hard, you try to better yourself. You try to offer something special. The news industry, instead of fighting to do that — offering better editions, more reporters, more columns, something to attract people to pay attention? No, they gave up against social media.
'It's an embarrassment,' he added.
Jarrin said that young people long would approach him to share that they wanted to get a communications degree in the hope of breaking into journalism, 'and I'd say, 'Perfect. Very good. Wonderful.' But in the last two years, I've said, 'No. Take language classes.' If you speak three languages, the world is at your feet. This country is behind the rest of the world in two fields specifically because we don't have enough bilingual people: politics and the economy.'
Our time was nearly up, so I tossed three more questions. First up: How are the Dodgers going to do this year?
Jarrin praised the recent contract extension for manager Dave Roberts 'because he has the respect of the clubhouse,' and said he has no problem with huge player contracts because 'it would be unjust if the owners kept all the money. … Dodger Stadium is a gold mine. Do you know how much money you get from feeding 50,000 people every night?'
He thinks this year's team is the strongest Dodgers squad he's seen since the 1977 and 1978 ones that made it to the World Series only to lose to the New York Yankees. 'On paper, they have the most powerful unit, above all with pitching, which is extraordinarily good,' Jarrín said, going as far as to say they'll win the National League. 'If they don't win, it's going to be an absolute and total failure.'
Next was a change-up: What do Latinos need to do to now that we're nearly half of the population in Southern California?
'Even though the numbers favor us, we remain a minority,' he replied. 'We need to better ourselves more and do a little bit more than what a white person would do to excel. And the foundation for this is to learn English.'
Jarrín blamed himself for not speaking English as well as he'd like on account of his career and talking only Spanish at home so his sons could be bilingual — 'I sacrificed my knowledge' for them, he claimed.
Would he have had a more successful career if his English were better?
For the first time all afternoon, Jarrín seemed unsure of himself.
'Maybe?'
He reflected on all of the accolades and accomplishments of his career. 'I don't know if I would've been able to achieve all of that in English.'
A chuckle.
'The competition would've been harder, no?'
Finally, a softball: What did he want people to say about what his legacy is?
Jarrin didn't hesitate: 'Only that they think and say to others, 'I want you to be like Jaime Jarrín in your commitment to whatever you want to do. Follow his way and his discipline, and you'll achieve what you want.''
Throughout our conversation, he waved or gave a thumbs up to admirers who didn't want to interrupt our conversation. The moment we got up from our table, the floodgates of fans opened. Soon came photos, more handshakes, more conversations. The lunch rush was over, so most of the Gale's workers looked on in admiration.
'A lot of people do that,' said server Francisco Perez in Spanish. 'He's such a loving man. Refined and loving. He's what we say in Mexico is gente de raza.'
Man of the people.
Chef Leonardo Castillo stood behind the counter. He's worked at Gale's for 20 years.
'He's never been someone who comes in and says, 'I'm Mr. So-and-So,'' said the native of Puebla, Mexico. 'He comes in like anyone else, even though he's Jaime Jarrin! What an honor that he's one of us.'