Brent Musburger and Orel Hershier called today’s season-opener between the Milwaukee Brewers and Chicago Cubs at Wrigley Field on ESPN.

And I have to say, it was great to hear Musburger call a baseball game.

I grew up with Musburger. His voice, for better or worse, dominated and defined my view of sports as a kid. I loved his enthusiasm. His ability to get lost in the moment. His tendency to overexaggerate, overemphasize and turn the ordinary into the extraordinary. I loved it all. And I still do.

I know it’s probably not in vogue to praise Musburger. But you know what? I don’t care. I really don’t. Nowadays, I long for the era of Musburger (and the soft-spoken Dick Enberg, who I recently heard for the first time in a good while, when he called the NCAA Tournament).

And that’s not nostalgia speaking. It’s more of a comment on what was and what is.

Good, professional, polished and respectful sports announcers are a dying breed. Musburger and Enberg represent a fading era. They always seemed in awe of the sports, teams and athletes they were covering. They respected history. They put events and actions in perspective. They held reverence for greatness.

Now? It’s all one-hundred-words-a-minute schills, oozing at the mouth just to hear themselves speak. Ruined by a 24/7 world, they churn out nonsense in loud, un-humanlike voices. Real, true analysis and insight is out the window. Enter: mind-numbing rants and a ceaseless stream of facts.

As a result, I normally have the “mute” button somewhere near my fingertips every time I watch a sporting event on TV nowadays. But today, while watching the Brewers and Cubs battle it out in the rain for 10 innings, I never once even thought about quieting Musburger. He was the announcer, and I was the listener. Yeah, he botched a few words and spellings. Yeah, he missed some things. But he sounded like he cared. And he spoke with a voice filled with respect, reverence and authority. And when Chicago’s Kosuke Fukudome launched his thrilling game-tying three-run home run in the ninth, Musburger was the only one I wanted to hear call the shot.