For nearly 30 years of Dayton Flyer basketball, there were several certainties. More than 10,000 fans at the UD Arena. Soft pretzels at room temperature. Notre Who T-shirts. The Pep Band. One certainty however will no longer be after Saturday evening’s contest with Rhode Island. Charlie Robinson, the real voice of the Flyers for the last 29 years, is stepping away from the microphone and hanging up the sneakers as Public Address Announcer for University of Dayton basketball games. It is a void that will surely be missed as Flyer basketball aims high in the years to come. Robinson isn’t throwing in the towel altogether; he’ll still offer his voice for Dayton football games at Welcome Stadium. It’s at the Arena however where Charlie became an institution, a rock of Gibraltar, a good friend. The career of Charlie Robinson is long and distinguished, and steeped in a touch of irony. He’s had the pleasure of calling some of the greatest games in college basketball history, from Dayton’s triumphant upsets to NCAA tournament games of monolithic proportions – all in one of America’s most hallowed theatres of college hoopdom. It’s a dream job the best in the business would have loved to have for just a season – or a game, but it was Mr. Robinson’s neighborhood and no one ever questioned it.

The irony is Charlie Robinson himself. A humble man, he started off calling freshman games at the UD Fieldhouse as Coach Herb Dintaman fed star after star into Tom Blackburn’s varsity team. Eventually he moved up to varsity games, and when Don Donoher took over and moved things to the newly-built UD Arena, Charlie Robinson moved into the finest office in the country. Robinson’s likeability resided in his imperfections. He’s not the most polished and he’s not the most gifted. What he is however, is personal and unwavering. Make no mistake, Charlie Robinson is a Flyer fan.

Robinson was the consummate Everyman who used his voice to cast doubt on shaky calls without ever being too conspicuous. When the Flyers were at their best, Robinson conveyed it over the speakers; when they were at their worst, he never tried to spin straw into gold. No game would be complete without a few words tripping him up. Sometimes it was a promotion, sometimes it was a player’s name. Everyone always got a kick out of preseason exhibitions when Charlie put on his game face and tried valiantly to decode the last names of the Yugoslavs or Croats. His imperfections were a refreshing change in light of today’s slick announcers who use the forum as a personal campaign for public office. Charlie Robinson was at his best during the biggest moments. During the pregame eulogy honoring Chris Daniels and his family, Robinson – like many of us – broke down and hid nothing. He was a fan just like us, mourning the loss of a member of the family. He always managed to showcase the human element of sports and reminded us that in the end, we can all still be friends.

When Dayton scored major upsets against Notre Dame, DePaul, and Xavier, he cheered with us, calling the game with the proverbial UD Pride. He was fair, but he was a Flyer. Within the last year, we lost radio favorite Larry Hansgen, and now Charlie Robinson is saying goodbye too. It’s not easy saying farewell to gentlemen you’ve relied on for so many years. It feels like putting Ol’ Roy to sleep – like things won’t feel the same again. Truth is, things won’t be the same and never will. You don’t fill the shoes of a Charlie Robinson, you bronze them and let them sit for others to pay homage to.