‘The Voice’ gets his due: Wilcox reflects as Traz Powell Stadium names press box after him
When he was a basketball player at Miami Dade College, Willie Wilcox used to run up the steps at the junior college’s on-campus stadium — now Nathaniel “Traz” Powell Stadium — as part of team conditioning.
“Now,” Wilcox said, “I take my time and walk.”
He climbs those 71 stairs just about every Friday during the fall, often getting stopped by someone who wants to chat or say hello, and settles into the press box as the sun sets over Miami and two football teams — sometimes two of the best in the country — get ready to play.
Wilcox has handed out countless nicknames as the public address announcer at the top of Traz Powell Stadium. At some point in these last 40 years, he gave the stadium its iconic nickname: “The Mecca” — “where some of the best high school football is played,” he always adds — but his perch will have a new name this weekend. When he walks up those 71 stairs Friday before Northwestern faces Carol City, he’ll see his name plastered across the press box and, at halftime, Miami-Dade County will honor the local legend by naming his Friday home the William L. Wilcox Sr. Press Box.
“I just blushed to think that they felt that way about me to honor me like that,” said Wilcox. “That’s such an honor.”
Wilcox made his debut on the stadium’s microphone more than 50 years ago. He was playing men’s basketball at Miami Dade at the time and the school’s student-athletes often volunteered on game days. Wilcox was a parking lot attendant, but, on one night in 1969, the usual PA announcer was sick and a coach asked Wilcox if he would fill in, trusting his deep baritone and magnetic personality would make him a natural.
He just wanted to get through it without messing up any names. He never thought it’d be the first of hundreds.
In the 1970s, it became part of his routine and he quickly became “The Voice” of South Florida’s vaunted high school football scene with his unique, conversational style, Chris Berman-inspired nicknames and a treasure trove of familiar catchphrases.
“I tell people, It’s not a job. That’s not my job,” Wilcox said. “It’s something that I like, so I can reach out to people. You just never know sometimes someone just needs to hear a kind word or someone just needs a smile.”
If one team is starting to pull away from the other? “Remember,” he’ll say. “It’s not over until it’s over.”
If a player trips and falls without anyone touching him? “That’s one tackle or the turf monster,” he’ll quip.
When it’s election season, he encourages spectators to make sure they go vote. When he spots a principal or athletic director on the sideline, he’ll make sure to give them a shout out. Every once in a while, he’ll make sure the crowd’s quiet, then say, “Remember: Just say to drugs and yes to education.”
“I had one lady come up to me and say, ‘Mister, I don’t know you, but you had such an impact on my daughter,’” Wilcox said. “’I’ve been dealing with my daughter about drugs and when she heard you say, No to drugs, the whole night she was repeating you and saying everything you were saying.’”
It’s not exactly unusual. When he spouts of his catchphrases, some fans will say them along with him. At a Miami Heat event a few years ago at Miami Northwestern Senior High School, Heat PA announcer Michael Baiamonte introduced him, “one of the most recognizable voices in Dade County,” Wilcox recalled, and it’s hard to argue.
Wilcox, who played football and basketball for the Bulls, has been doing this longer than even a lot of the coaches have been alive. He has called out names of fathers and sons, and given nicknames that have stuck all the way to the NFL.
His basketball coach was right: He was a natural after all.
“I’m just thankful that I’m able to still do it,” Wilcox said. “I have people telling me, Man, Wilcox you sound the same. You sound like when I was in high school. You still sound the same.”
