CLEVELAND, Ohio – I recently wrote several stories about Jimmy Donovan, the radio voice of the Browns from 1999 to 2023, who died of cancer last weekend.

Before Sunday’s Browns game, several of us in the press box were talking about Jimmy. I’m using his first name, because most of you reading this probably feel like Jimmy was a friend – even if you never met him.

It’s the magic of someone who is often on radio and television – and whose private life matches that of the public figure. Jimmy had a way of making strangers feel like friends. This is something I learned from him and other people in my life. I’m still working on it.

But one the conversation was with Andre Knott, who takes care of Guardians matches for Bally sports. He was closer to Jimmy than to me. Early in Knott’s career, he was asked to go into television as a sports anchor – much like the job Jimmy had for nearly 40 years at WKYC.

At this time, Knott and Jimmy worked together on the Browns radio show. Knott was on the ground giving reports to the radio booth. So they had a relationship. Knott called Jimmy to tell him about the job offer.

Jimmy spent nearly an hour on the phone with Knott, telling him everything about being a TV anchor…what to look for and what to watch for. The good and the bad.

He showed so much interest and enthusiasm for the decision Knott had to make that you could have sworn it was Jimmy who was considering the job offer.

What is it for?

Last year, Browns receiver Amari Cooper called out the quarterback Joe Flacco “a multiplier of faith”. By this he meant that Flacco’s trust in others gave them confidence. He built them.

As we told stories about Jimmy in the press box, it hit me later. Jimmy was an “enthusiasm multiplier.”

Big job, small job. They were all important to Jimmy, who found a way to approach them with a good attitude and energy, even while battling cancer.

The same with his relationships with others. It could be a national TV star or an intern still in school – Jimmy has found a way to make them feel welcome.

As I wrote this, I thought of Colossians 3:23-24: “Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, and not for men, since you know that you will receive a reward. inheritance from the Lord as an inheritance. reward. It is the Lord Christ whom you serve.

A burst of joy

I also thought of something that Cavs president Koby Altman once said, “Some people are drains. some are fountains.

It was Jimmy…a fountain. He brought emotional healing and life to those he met.

I saw this in the 1990s when I was on a weekly Tribe show with Jimmy and a few other writers. I hadn’t done much TV. I know there were times when I missed my airwaves, and Jimmy quickly covered it. It was so smooth that almost no one noticed there was a mistake.

Then Jimmy would quietly mention what was wrong and how to fix it. No scolding in front of others. Don’t make me (or anyone else) feel stupid. We felt like we were all in this together.

I think of Philippians 2:3: “Do nothing from selfish ambition or vain conceit. On the contrary, with humility, value others above yourselves.

Almost everyone in media (and many other professions) has an ego. You will be rejected. Your confidence will be shaken. The right kind of ambition is healthy. This is how Jimmy rose through the ranks, from a college radio station at Boston University to minor league baseball in Burlington, Vermont, and finally to Cleveland in 1985.

Jimmy could have fallen into what this verse calls “selfish ambition and vain conceit.” After arriving in town, the Boston native waited 14 years before becoming the radio voice of the Browns.

But during that time, he worked NFL games for NBC (1987-97) and helped cover the 1992 and 1996 Olympics for NBC. Later in his career, he turned down national network jobs to stay in Cleveland, a field he embraced with his usual enthusiasm.

Talking to Jimmy, you would never have known the work he was doing on a national scale. He rarely talked about it. That’s why I’m talking about it now.

Enthusiasm multipliers don’t need to tell you what they did. Instead, their mere presence makes you want to be with them.

A multiplier of encouragement

I received this email from Tim Huhta:

“Our 20-year-old son was diagnosed with cancer and had to undergo chemotherapy for three months. I’ve been a Browns season ticket holder since 1995. I contacted Jimmy to tell him what my son was facing – and we are every game. Maybe I thought he would send her a letter? A map?

“On the second day of my son’s chemo, he received a phone call from Jim Donovan. He told Logan about my letter. He then said, “Here is my cell phone. Text or call me anytime. We can talk about chemo and the Browns.

“Jim called Logan on his way to Cincinnati last year, telling him he was thinking about Logan and wanted to check in. He called him the morning of the game. They were texting and spoke on the phone several times during Logan’s three-month ordeal.

“Logan has been cancer-free for six months. Even though Jimmy was dealing with his terrible news, Logan and Jimmy continued to text and encourage each other. I feel like we lost a great friend. Jimmy didn’t have to do what he did for my son. My family will never forget the time he took to help Logan fight his fight.”