Sports have an inimitable way of tethering to our memories, few of which are more treasured than the voices they produce. They are the voices of our teams, sometimes voices linked to our entire childhoods, even if they came through something as humble as your little transistor radio.

And we've endured the loss of a few voices in recent weeks, from Vin Scully to Verne Lundquist, who belong on some broadcasting Rushmore somewhere.

Now comes news that Chris Berman, the face, voice and conscience of ESPN, will be lightening his workload, no longer the host of "Sunday NFL Countdown" and "NFL Prime Time." Berman has been The Man at the Worldwide Leader for the last 31 years.

I'm not sure there's ever been a more significant broadcaster in the history of the world.

And here's why: Chris Berman, in tone and tenor, always reminded us the most important sports lesson of all: They're supposed to be fun. And nobody else ever made them more fun. There's not a better legacy to leave than being the guy most associated with laughter.

Did he scream? Faithfully. And all in fun. Surely, he cut the necessary swath for so many blatherers and bloviators who have come after him, the many who scream and yelp and pontificate, all making us forget that sports are for win or lose, not life or death.

You tuned into Berman for one thing: to laugh. To hear the shtick. You knew it was coming. And you still couldn't wait. It always reinvented itself by being exactly the same.

Hard to know where to begin. But maybe here: with his baseball nicknames. We all have our favorites. But the first time I ever heard Ross "I Never Promised You A" Baumgarten, I nearly wet myself. Other favorites: Bernard "Innocent Until Proven" Gilkey, Bert "Be Home" Blyleven, Mike "Enough" Aldretti, Rick "See Ya Later" Aguilera and Lance "You Sank My" Blankenship.

Then there's football. Berman's homages to Howard Cosell ("look at him go!"), Keith Jackson ("Whoa Nellie!") and other voices who came before him speak to a certain reverence for the pioneers that make Berman more endearing. You can't spend 10 minutes on a high school football sideline anymore without a Berman-ism. From "It's a FUM-BULL!" to "he ... could ...  go ... all ... the ... way."

His nights on NFL Primetime with Tom Jackson were must see television. I couldn't wait for Michael Jackson of the Cleveland Browns to make a highlight, just so I could hear Berman or Jackson go "hee hee" as Michael Jackson the singer made famous. Or when Martin Mayhew of the Washington Redskins would pick off a pass, Berman would pretend like he was sneezing.

May ... May ...May ... HEW.

I laughed every time.

I just did typing that.

Or when Keith Jackson, the old Packers tight end, would catch a pass, Berman would break into a "Whoa Nellie" from Keith Jackson the announcer. It always got better.

Colleague Sal Paolantonio was quoted as saying this about Berman on Tuesday: "The guy has spanned 'Cheers' and 'Seinfeld' and 'Breaking Bad.' He's had the same impact on the NFL as Steve Sabol had. He took the helmet off the players. The NFL owes an incredible debt to Chris Berman. Players owe an incredible debt of gratitude to Chris Berman. It's not going to happen again, someone in the media with his impact. It's once in a lifetime. It's a moonshot."

Steve Young: "Sports on TV is not calculus. It is authenticity. That's what you got from Chris. The nicknames, the stories, the fun ... Chris Berman is relentlessly himself. With Chris, there's honest cheerleading. He loves football. He loves sports. People can treat that as Pollyanna stuff, but fine. Sports should be fun. That's why people watch it."

I've become a bigger believer than ever recently that time and space are our greatest teachers. They never fail, even if sometimes, when we want something so bad, time feels as though it moves slower than an arthritic snail. Then there's times like this, where we wonder how it went so fast.

Thirty-one years for Chris Berman at ESPN.

And much like in "Jingle Bells," he did it laughing all the way.

Us, too.

This is the opinion of Day sports columnist Mike DiMauro.