Throughout this week, The Athletic will profile many of the 10 broadcasters who have been nominated for the Baseball Hall of Fame’s Ford C. Frick Award. The next recipient of the award will be announced on Dec. 6 at the Winter Meetings. Read all of our stories on the nominees here. 

Duane Kuiper was standing outside his daughter’s house in Alamo a few weeks ago when a neighbor pulled up in a white SUV. He rolled down the window and told Kuiper how much he enjoyed listening to him call San Francisco Giants games with Mike Krukow, his inseparable partner for going on four decades now in the booth. And he wished them both luck on Dec. 6.

Kuiper had to break the news gently: this isn’t a package deal. Kuiper and Krukow are among 10 broadcasters nominated for the honor. Only one nominee will receive the Ford C. Frick Award. Only one will earn a place on the dais and the invitation to speak to the crowd in Cooperstown, N.Y., in July. The neighbor blinked in disbelief. Split up Kruk and Kuip? You might as well throw a pool party and wheel out a tank of hydrogen and a tank of oxygen.

“I know, it’s hard to imagine,” Kuiper said. “He’s a nominee and so am I. Which is fine. The first time this happened, we were both nominated for an Emmy for Northern California broadcaster of the year. My wife sat in the middle of our table. I was on her left, Mike was on her right. And I won. So I had to go accept and say something, and I said, ‘Look, I thank everybody involved, but I also want to say how important this is because my wife said she would sleep with someone who won an Emmy tonight. So I’m happy it was me.’

“Mike was super gracious and nothing has change since that night. Except now we both have 18 of ’em.”

From their trove of Emmys to the top spot that they routinely claim in fan rankings of local broadcast crews to the greatest honor of them all, the near universal love and acclaim that they’ve received from generations of Giants fans, Krukow and Kuiper are as decorated and celebrated as any regional voices in the industry. Their descriptions and accounts have been the backbeat as the franchise moved from Candlestick Park to the shores of McCovey Cove. Their tonal inflections and observations captured the exhilaration of winning four National League pennants and three World Series championships. They played into the anticipation every time Barry Bonds cocked his wrists in the batter’s box and awaited the next pitch.