It seems like just about everyone who has done this for a long time has a Keith Jackson story to tell. Jackson, the legendary broadcaster for years widely regarded as the voice of college football, died late Friday night at age 89.
 
Jackson's homespun style and his colorful expressions such as "Whoa, Nellie," the "Big Uglies" and his reference to the Rose Bowl as "The Granddaddy of Them All" and Michigan Stadium as "The Big House" helped make him one of the most popular and revered broadcasters ever in the game.
 
Whenever Jackson praised your favorite team it meant something.
 
He began calling games for Washington State in the early 1950s and emerged nationally in the mid-1960s when ABC secured the broadcasting rights to college football.
 
Jackson worked Monday Night Football in its inaugural year in 1970 before ABC's top target Frank Gifford was able to get out of his CBS contract, and he also worked Major League Baseball, the NBA and the Olympics, but it wasn't until he replaced Chris Schenkel as ABC's lead play-by-play man for college football in 1974 that his career really took off.
 
I am aware of two instances when Jackson was in Morgantown to call West Virginia University football games. The first happened in 1975 when he described West Virginia's great, 17-14 upset victory over 20^th-ranked Pitt.
 
That was the game Bill McKenzie kicked the winning field goal on the final play.
 
A second time occurred nine years later when West Virginia made its unforgettable second half comeback to defeat Boston College, 21-20. The Eagles had quarterback Doug Flutie, whose season-ending performance at Miami helped him win the Heisman Trophy that year.
 
BC was riding high with early season victories over Alabama and North Carolina and had risen to No. 4 in the polls prior to its Oct. 20 meeting with West Virginia at Mountaineer Field. ABC's top announcing crew of Jackson and Frank Broyles were assigned to cover the game.
 
The vast majority of the country was going to see the West Virginia-Boston College game so it was a big deal back then to exposure-starved West Virginia University.
 
Describing the action to a statewide radio audience was West Virginia's legendary "Voice of the Mountaineers" Jack Fleming. As was frequently the case with Fleming, he was stuck in traffic during his trip from Pittsburgh to Morgantown and arrived at the stadium much later than he had hoped.
 
Consequently, he was behind on his pregame scene-setter and was furiously scribbling down thoughts on blank sheets of paper when Jackson, sitting in the adjoining booth, noticed Fleming hard at work.
 
Jackson was anxious to say hello to Fleming, the guy who called the "Immaculate Reception" and those four Pittsburgh Steelers Super Bowl victories.
 
To Jackson, getting the opportunity to meet Fleming was the broadcasting equivalent of a Cardinal getting to say hi to the Pope, or so it seemed to others sitting in the booth that afternoon.
 
For those who worked with Fleming, they knew there were times when he was simply unapproachable. One of those occasions was right before he was about to go on the air. Fleming considered the broadcast booth his inner sanctum and intruders were not welcome, no matter who they were.
 
Once, when he was working Super Bowl XIV at the Rose Bowl, a group of Japanese tourists wearing Mickey Mouse t-shirts had somehow mistakenly walked into the booth while Fleming was doing the pregame show on the Steelers Radio Network.
 
Fleming's broadcasting partner, Myron Cope, erupted in anger, "What the hell is this, Pearl Harbor?
 
"Outta here!"

Fleming told yours truly that story many years ago.
 
At any rate, to those in the same room with these two broadcasting legends that sunny October afternoon in Morgantown it was a rare opportunity to observe two greats tell some stories and spin a yarn or two. Surely, an exception would be made for the great Keith Jackson, they thought.
 
Fleming politely shook Jackson's hand, asked him how he was doing and tried to make some small talk while his mind drifted to more pressing matters - namely his all-important scene-setter to establish the appropriate tone for such a meaningful football game.
 
Jackson, sensing Fleming wasn't in the mood to have a long, drawn-out conversation, soon ended their brief discussion and wished him a good broadcast.
 
When he left Fleming's booth to return to his own, Jack turned around and issued a stern order to those standing behind him, "Lock the door! NO MORE VISITORS!"

To Fleming, having a great game broadcast was serious business, no matter who might be visiting.
 
Thus, my Keith Jackson story - a true Keith Jackson story.