Ladies and gentlemen it is now time for the Royal Rumble. You spoke the wrestler's names with pride boldly you said

Did the things a lesser man might not have ever done

supplied your urine for the holster so he wouldn't get in trouble. Now you're gone.

With the WWE

W. W. W. Eblazon on your microphone plaubimin' all the restless names and waits and

where they're from.

You're the in-ring voice that shine

for one beef moment in eternity

and all too soon God called you to his side.

Heaven needed a thing,

go, that's why he took you. Heaven needed some clean urine. God knows we needed to. Heaven needed an announcer to introduce him.

Having needed a single. God knows we need you to.

Thank you very very much.

Boss, we've lost the Fink. Another voice of our childhood.

The last voice of our childhood?

Potentially.

Well, no, I wouldn't say that. We still got a few left.

Still got a few left, but few as impactful, right, as resonant, as of a

a particular time in our lives as Howard Finkel. You don't realize

you take of course you take an accounting now you take an inventory upon his passing of where he fit in creating moments that matter and helping wrestling to feel like it should and you realize that even though he only spoke for five ten seconds per match

Without him the matches aren't nearly as legendary he's he's he's he is such a crucial

Uh uh he is he is such a crucial element to the success of the results, the build up to matches. I mean, every, and I sure I'm I know I'm that I'm not alone but I did the think voice when I was a kid for every single match

...