A few years ago Toronto fans met a new announcer. They hated him. He spoke like he was preaching from the mizzenmast, his voice booming from his bulbous head like waves of sounds echoing down Sinai rock. But he showed potential: The man could speak English. You felt, listening to him, that he’d read a book. Or maybe two. Maybe he’d even heard of Rudy Wiebe.

Jamie Campbell, who’d been doing hockey highlights for Sportsnet, was promoted to prime-time play-by-play man. No longer did he have to spend his days in Robarts Library researching whether Dave Lowry was a better “character guy” than Peter Zezel. It didn’t matter if he thought that Todd Gill was the fourth-best backwards skater in the Western Conference. Campbell was going to broadcast for the Blue Jays. He was going to ascend to a platform (his natural habitat) where people would actually be listening; not waiting to see Nazr Mohammed’s dunk.

Campbell was bad (we can forgive him for that; the man was young, inexperienced), but he’s improved significantly over the past few years. Some people hate him; some people deal with him. But, for me, he’s just faded into the background. And that’s exactly where a broadcaster should be–the background.

Here’s the problem: Campbell does play by play; broadcasters, for some reason, feel that the “colour” guy always has to be an ex-ballplayer. Always. OK, I understand the logic behind having a guy with behind-the-scenes knowledge; but you’ve got to weigh the benefit of sage, seasoned wisdom against the reality that most athletes can’t speak English.

I’m not talking about the Latino imports; I’m talking about good ol’ American boys. Boys–now men–raised on Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn. They just can’t speak English.

That’s the problem with Rance Mulliniks. His ability to analyze a game is decent. He knows when guys are pulling off the ball; he knows when pitchers are missing their release points. But he just can’t say it; he can’t develop his thoughts.

A typical Mulliniks sentence goes something like this: “Jamie, if you look at the way Rios sets up at the plate…” Period. End of sentence.

Or try this one: “Hitting the ball like that, Gibbons spoke to Eckstein before the game.” Dangling participle. Period. End of sentence.

Sure, Rance says his share of inane flow: “If they could just hit better, they’d score some runs.” But I can forgive that. That’s OK. The man is on air for three hours. He’s going to lapse and let something obvious exit his lips. But he’s so unsure of himself when it comes to grammar and sentence construction that you can hear him–actually hear him–trying to compose a proper clause in his mind.

And he can’t do it. He just can’t do it. So he trails off…

I’ve seen it hundreds of times. In English seminars…Even graduate English seminars. It’s the desire to be perfect, or else. But while you might be able to say, “Faulkner’s aesthetic is so…,” it’s absolutely unacceptable to say, “I think all Halladay has to do to be successful is…”

I like Mullinikis. I like Fletcher better, but Rance is OK. (Fletcher’s cocky and confident; I really like that he tells you that Rios’s K numbers are BS for a 20-HR guy.) But these producers have to know their talent. Send them to an English professor on sabbatical. Show them how to write; give them a reading list, and let them prove they deserve to be on TV. Give them a freshman essay, and make them correct the grammar. You can’t be a weatherman if you can’t point; so why accept mangled English from your broadcasters?

I know fans are throwing darts at Mulliniks posters. But he’s progressed a little over the past year. Let’s just hope he reads his English Grammar and Composition. Because this can’t get worse before it gets…