MINNEAPOLIS — Bob Casey's work space is known affectionately as "The Hole," a cramped bunker behind home plate at the Metrodome.
The Twins' public-address announcer for all but a handful of games during the franchise's 43-year history in Minnesota, Casey shares the place with a couple of TV cameras, their operators, tangles of wire and cable and, supposedly, a rat named "Charlie" who lives behind the wall. A pane of cloudy plexiglas protects them from screaming foul balls.
"I've been here so long that I think everyone takes it for granted," Casey said, craning his neck to peer at his surroundings. "Someday this whole thing will come crashing down, and I'll be buried back here and nobody will find me."
He would never disappear so inconspicuously.
Casey's raspy, growling baritone can't be replaced. His sarcastic sense of humor and infamous slips of the tongue would be tough to forget, too.
If the 21-year-old, Teflon-covered stadium smells like stale hot dogs and looks like a giant pool table inside, then it sounds like Bob Casey.
"I think that voice is synonymous with Twins baseball," team president Dave St. Peter said.
This weekend, the 78-year-old announcer joins outfielder Bob Allison and become the 12th member of the Twins' Hall of Fame.
He predates the Metrodome by a long time, though.
Casey's career, which also includes announcing gigs with the Minneapolis Lakers and the Minnesota Vikings, got its first big boost in 1951 when he filled in for local broadcasting legend Halsey Hall at a Minneapolis Millers game.
He served as PA announcer for the Millers — a Triple-A team in the old American Association — for 10 years until the Twins came to town. Nearly 3,500 games later, he's still behind the mike.
Casey has done three World Series, including Minnesota's victories in 1987 and 1991. Only the college graduations of his three sons, Kirby Puckett's Hall of Fame induction and a brief illness last season have kept him away.
"He's a really close friend," Casey said of the player he began introducing as "Kir-BEEEEEEEEEE PUCK-it!" in his rookie season, 1984.
The exaggerated enunciation was just one of the many memorable things to come out of Casey's mouth.
There's the daily reminder of "Nooooooooo smoking in this stadium" and the warning to "Please do not throw anything — or anybody — onto the playing field."
When unruly fans showered former Twins player Chuck Knoblauch with objects in left field during a game against the Yankees in 2001, nearly causing the home team to forfeit, Casey sounded like an angry parent:
"Please stop throwing things. This is an important game! Now quit this!"
At a game in the early 1970s, Metropolitan Stadium received a bomb threat and Casey mistakenly told the crowd it had to evacuate within 30 seconds instead of 30 minutes — causing quite a panic.
At a Vikings game, he once explained that a 15-yard penalty on the New York Giants was for having an "illegitimate" player on the field.
"I thought that was pretty funny," Casey said.
In recent seasons, he's mispronounced scores of opposing players' names, some of the gaffes made worse by the often-muffled Metrodome sound system. A sampling:
Anaheim's Adam Kennedy was called "Pat."
Tony Graffanino of the White Sox was given two extra syllables: "GRAF-ah-nah-nah-noh."
Last year's AL MVP, Oakland shortstop Miguel Tejada, sounded something like "Tah-WAH-dah."
Blue Jays pitcher Roy Halladay was renamed Ray Holiday.
Red Sox shortstop Nomar Garciaparra became Garcia Parra. "I was just skipping the first part to save time," Casey insisted.
Yankees slugger Hideki Matsui was announced as "Mah-SOH-zoh," "Maht-SOO-see" and "Mat-SOO-shee" before Casey did it correctly.
Most of the opposing players are well aware of Casey's reputation.
"Oh, man, he's brutal," Royals second baseman Desi (DEH'-zee) Relaford said, rolling his eyes after a recent game. "Calling me 'DEE-see Rutherford'?
"You know what, though? That's just him doing his thing. Why not? He can call me by whatever name he wants."
It was pointed out to Relaford that Casey pronounced teammate Runelvys Hernandez's name correctly.
"Yeah, how did he do that?" Relaford said. "I still can't say it."
At his age, Casey is well beyond caring what people think.
"Sometimes," Casey said wryly, "I do it on purpose. Sometimes it's by accident."
Team officials have regular sessions with Casey and the rest of the stadium operations crew so that game days go as smoothly as possible. It's sometimes a little tougher to get the message through to Casey.
"Clearly he's got a particular style and way of going about things," St. Peter said. "Bob is going to be Bob, and in some ways, that's part of his charm."