In his maroon cardigan, knitted navy tie and square glasses, the voice of the Verizon Center sits comfortably amidst a library of theological tomes on a sunny Monday afternoon. Father William McFadden, S.J., may seem an incongruous choice for a job most often reserved for pomade-shellacked quick talkers just out of broadcasting school, but after almost 34 years as the public address announcer for the Hoyas, McFadden is as adept at the mike as any of them.
From his seat at the scorer’s table, McFadden keeps track of each foul, substitution and change of possession, announcing them in his effortlessly harmonic voice to the roaring crowd at every home game. And though you may not have noticed him before, if you’ve ever borne witness to Jeff Green’s ally-oop acrobatics, then you have surely heard McFadden’s intonations echoing throughout the arena like the voice from atop Mt. Sinai.
McFadden’s involvement with Georgetown basketball coincided with the beginning of John Thompson Jr.’s reign as head coach. When he speaks of the now-legendary man, McFadden does so with the greatest praise.
“He came in here with a total plan,” he said of Thomspon. “He didn’t want his athletes to be hired guns.”
Part of that encompassing vision was to involve the university community, especially the Jesuits, intimately with the team’s efforts. Many of the priests on campus were assigned roles within the organization; McFadden’s first job was to be part of a conspicuous cheering section right behind the basket in McDonough Gymnasium.
Though he can’t remember the exact date, McFadden believes that he began announcing in 1973 and can vividly recall his first game, an exhibition against a corporate team from Yugoslavia known as “Yugoslav Locomotiv” with a roster full of multi-syllabic and daunting names.
“I wrote the names out phonetically with the help of a Hungarian Jesuit in the community,” McFadden recalled, and said he has yet to encounter an equally challenging mélange of monikers.
When not on duty at the Verizon Center, McFadden fills his time as a full-time professor of theology. Normally, he lectures on the mysteries of religion and human existence, but on game day, his only role is to represent the Georgetown community with an air of professional grace. In years past, this professionalism required McFadden to appear at each game dressed in a referee’s shirt, an outfit he recalls with an impish smile. Though his uniform for games is now a simple navy windbreaker, he cannot help but be nostalgic for his black and white striped days.
“People treated me with the greatest respect,” he said with a chuckle. “I would sometimes rather wear that shirt than the clerical collar.”
As Georgetown basketball enjoyed a rise into prestige during the 1980s, their stadium facilities improved as well. Soon, McFadden was announcing over the P.A. system in the Capital Center, an arena that held over 18,000 spectators, a far cry from the intimacy of McDonough’s modest bleachers. It was there that some of the greatest moments in Hoya hoops history occurred.
When speaking about the glory days of Patrick Ewing and Sleepy Floyd, it is as if McFadden no longer exists in the present. He leans back in his chair, eyes closed in concentration as he recounts detailed plays from long-ago games. One moment seared into his memory comes from the Hoyas’ 1984 Final Four appearance against Kentucky. With obvious delight and what can only be described as giddy enthusiasm, McFadden recalls that it was the second half of the game, the Hoyas were down and Patrick Ewing sat on the bench due to foul trouble. He can remember thinking, “The dream is over.”
Then, Gene Smith subbed into the game, and while retrieving an out-of-bounds ball, McFadden distinctly remembers the junior giving a gleeful wink to his teammates and heading back out onto the floor. Georgetown went on to hold Kentucky without a field goal for 13 minutes. The Hoyas won the game and later, the national championship, due in no small part to the self-assured attitude attached to that wink and what McFadden terms “a defense that brought other teams to tears.”
When asked how long he will continue in his role as P.A. announcer, McFadden will only allow that his decision to keep going is “a year-to-year thing.” After over thirty seasons with Georgetown, he has a distinctly calm perspective concerning Hoya paranoia. McFadden has no fanatical pre-game ritual, he is not star-struck by the presence of John Thompson III nor does he celebrate wildly in Wolfenstein Hall after wins. His devotion to the team is apparent, but it is that of a seasoned observer, a measured appreciation for the game and its players that will stay the same whether or not McFadden chooses to stay on as an announcer.
One thing he is sure to miss if he ever leaves is what McFadden characterizes as “the perk of all perks,” which is the first-class parking spot he enjoys at the Verizon Center. After the game, police stop the busy traffic in the parking lot and allow him to sail through, back home to the Hilltop.
“That’s the high point of worldly recognition,” McFadden said with a smile.
