‘Onions!’ and All: Bill Raftery Still Steals March Madness

Less than two weeks after calling the NCAA men’s national championship game, Bill Raftery will celebrate his 83rd birthday. And the living legend sounds as good as ever behind the microphone. With his charisma, basketball IQ, and memorable TV catchphrases, Raftery has been the MVP of CBS Sports’s and TNT Sports’s March Madness coverage.

Start with a game schedule that would exhaust announcers decades younger. With only a few days of rest, Raftery called four men’s first-round games and two second-round games as a part of CBS’s No. 1 team alongside fellow analyst Grant Hill, play-by-play announcer Ian Eagle, and reporter Tracy Wolfson. 

Next, the broadcasting Hall of Famer is set to call two Sweet 16 games, including Friday night’s doubleheader of St. John’s–Duke and Michigan State–UConn. Then he’ll call one Elite Eight game, both Final Four contests, and, finally, the national title game on April 6.

It’s the same grueling schedule the 45-year TV veteran has endured since ascending to CBS’s No. 1 March Madness announce team in 2015. But like all TV naturals, the former Seton Hall and Fairleigh Dickinson head coach makes it look effortless. 

As New York Post columnist Kirsten Fleming wrote on X/Twitter: “At 82, Bill Raftery is still delivering classic lines that will endure. Hasn’t lost a step. He brings so much joy to college hoops.”

Then there are his eccentric, on-air catchphrases, delivered with the brio and enthusiasm of Gus Johnson of Fox Sports or John Fanta of NBC Sports. They’ve become part of the lexicon of the annual Big Dance. 

It wouldn’t be March without Raftery’s trademark “Onions!” after a player nails a late clutch shot. Or “With a kiss” for a soft bank-in. And of course, “Lingerie on the deck” when a defender is faked out of their shoes. 

My personal favorite is “Onions. Double order!” So what if the vaguely vulgar exclamation has been deemed inappropriate for TV by some pearl-clutching critics? Hoops fans love it. The college kids love it, too, excitedly repeating it to Raftery after hitting the big shot. 

Finally, there’s the man himself. When you watch Raftery, you know you’re watching broadcast history, the way you did with Verne Lundquist, Dick Enberg, Brent Musburger, and Dick Stockton. Or the late John Madden, Vin Scully, and Howard Cosell.

Raftery is “the ultimate example that passion never goes out of fashion,” notes Gerry Matalon, a performance coach for sports broadcasters, analysts, play-by-play announcers, and game reporters.

“What I look for in any high performer in live-game broadcasting is complete presence—total engagement, with nothing held back,” says Matalon. “Maintaining extraordinary cognitive sharpness, instant recall, real-time pattern recognition with spontaneous wit, all under the pressure of a live national broadcast, is demanding at any age. To sustain that at the highest level for over four decades is incredible. Every time Bill Raftery calls a game, you see exactly that level of presence.”

The colorful Raftery is like a character out of a Jay McInerney novel—a throwback to the freewheeling, pre-internet days of the 1980s when hoops ruled New York City and sports seemed more fun. 

The tales of the notorious bon vivant closing bars are legendary. Within a minute of calling their opening March Madness telecast, the 53-year-old Hill paid homage to his broadcast colleague’s drinking prowess.

“Best time of the year,” joked Hill. “Get a chance to see great basketball, buzzer beaters, and damage my liver this next month.”

Eagle has experienced many last calls with Raftery himself. He could only laugh knowingly in appreciation.

I like to think of Raftery as Dos Equis’s “Most Interesting Man in the World” come alive. At the 2024 NCAA tournament, Raftery wasn’t sweating over game film in his hotel room. Instead, he was out on the town in Brooklyn with Bill Murray, another legendary party animal. And yes, Murray picked up the check for the two Bills. “We were thinking of doing Ghostbusters 3,” Raftery casually explained on-air.  

During an interview on The Dan Patrick Show, Eagle swapped war stories with the host about partying with Raftery. “He’s a million times more entertaining when he’s not doing a game. And that’s saying a lot,” Patrick noted.

Finally, there’s Raftery’s professional career arc. It’s a monument to patience, persistence, and waiting for the right moment.  

The quintessential Jersey guy’s TV career dates all the way back to 1980—when Team USA won the “Miracle on Ice,” Jack Nicklaus captured golf’s U.S. Open, and Muhammad Ali challenged Larry Holmes for boxing’s heavyweight title.

In addition to his TV duties, Raftery called the men’s Final Four on Westwood One Radio for 23 long years before he and Hill were finally promoted to the No. 1 team with Jim Nantz. That happened only because Greg Anthony was suspended indefinitely after being charged with soliciting a prostitute in Washington, D.C. The charge was later dropped as part of a plea deal. Raftery, meanwhile, has remained on CBS’s top team ever since. 

In fact, the prototypical late bloomer didn’t get the chance to call his first Final Four on TV until he was 72 years old, a moment chronicled by his son Billy Raftery Jr. in the documentary With a Kiss. As that doc noted, the elder Raftery’s been on the road to the Final Four his entire life. Did you know that he’s been with CBS since 1983? That’s two years longer than Nantz, the face of the network.

Over his career, Raftery has fit in seamlessly with an array of talented play-by-play partners such as Lundquist, Nantz, Eagle, James Brown, and Sean McDonough. His adaptability and “don’t worry, be happy” mindset keep him at the top of his game.

Given his age, it’s fair to wonder how many more Final Fours Raftery—who recently signed with CAA for representation—has in him. True to his nature, that doesn’t seem to be something he’s concerned with anytime soon.

“I’ve been blessed with support from other people, so I never really think about it,” Raftery told my FOS colleague Ryan Glasspiegel about possible retirement last year: “I’m sure at some point they’ll let me know if you’re not doing your job, but I just sort of take each year as it goes.”