For four decades, Preston Williams has been the voice of Fort Smith athletics. Anyone who has ever heard Preston Williams call a ball game, either live or on broadcast, knows his professionalism and commitment to getting it right.
Anyone who knows him when the mic is shut off is aware he is equally passionate about a good story, of which Preston has a million and counting. Heck, his announcer debut tale is a humdinger, one which he tells with gusto about going from keeping the book on the bench to being the voice of what is now University of Fort Smith athletics.
“I was a student at Westark (College) in the ‘80s,” he says. “We had a kid, I don’t remember his name, and I’m not sure if I ever knew his name, who was the announcer for the women’s game. One day that kid didn’t show up. I mean, literally, like two minutes and thirty-seven seconds left on the warmup clock, I see the AD, Jim Wyatt, talk to Coach (Louis) Whorton and that never happens. You don’t go bother the coach two minutes before the game; he’s got too much on his mind. He was just letting him know, ‘Hey, the kid didn’t show up, who you want to do it?’
“Jim turns to me, he goes, ‘Can you announce and do the book?’ I said, ‘Yes.’ He goes, ‘Well, the main thing’s the book; just announce starters and then do what you can but keep the book.’ I guarantee you, Whorton turned around, huddled up his girls and he goes, ‘Y’all get ready to laugh. Preston’s gonna introduce us.’”
Preston made the most of his Wally Pip moment that touched off the career he still enjoys today. As ordered, the scorebook was flawless and his announcing debut nearly so, save for one moment that is a part of Lions lore.
“I didn’t do bad, but I did screw up the introduction,” he says. “When I got to ‘Welcome to Westark…’ I paused and I thought, ‘Oh, no. It’s not gym, it’s not gymnasium, it’s not auditorium, it’s not arena, it’s not field house. What do we call this place?’ We’ve got dead air for the thirty-five people that are in the stands now and I’m feeling all this blood get to my head.
“Finally, I cleared my throat and went, ‘Westark Coliseum’ and everybody busted out laughing. Once the blood got back to an even flow, I did the lineups. And you know, we wound up getting beat by twenty-something points, but every basket we made sounded like a buzzer-beater and every basket the other team made you could barely tell who scored.”
Preston didn’t have to wait long for the reviews to come in. Not only did he see the mirth of the players and coaches but at halftime he sought out the athletic director who’d tapped him for the gig as an emergency replacement.
“Halftime comes around, I go into a foyer area, like our little open area there by the concession stand and there’s the AD’s office,” he says. “I didn’t even get to knock on the glass; he’s already motioned me in. This guy is always so serious, so I said, ‘So when are we getting the coliseum built?’ He busts out laughing and goes ‘You did fantastic. You get to get it for the rest of the season.’ Then after the season, he’s like, ‘You can have this as long as you want.’”
In short order, Preston would become a fixture at Westark games not only for women’s basketball but later inheriting the men’s games and serving intermittent gigs for the volleyball team through the years. From there he added announcing work for the Fort Smith public school system calling boys and girls basketball, football, and volleyball. For a hometown kid, it’s been a dream ride in the place that he knows best and loves most.
“If I had to kind of describe where I was brought up, it was an awesome little neighborhood,” he says. “If you were doing something outside and the other kids saw you doing it, then all of a sudden you had twenty. We played, it was supposed to be touch football, but it quickly became tackle. We played basketball. We played plastic baseball in the backyard, kind of like a wiffle ball except it didn’t have holes in it.”
Preston gravitated toward baseball in an era that predated school teams. A talented right-handed pitcher, he contributed to a team that reached the American Legion state tournament during his time in high school. His sports triumphs came with tragedy as he lost his father when he was sixteen, perhaps spurring his need for inclusion through humor.
“As far as Northside, I would say I was kind of the class clown,” he says. “I don’t know if I read this, heard this, or just thought of it myself but I thought you can’t give everybody something of value, yet if you can give them laughter or a smile it’s worth its weight in gold. I was not a great student, I was more of a B-C student, but an A-plus in personality. There was no one that I didn’t want to be friends with.”
Growing up locally also gave Preston the kind of understanding of local sports passions that don’t come naturally to outsiders. That understanding has allowed him to call games between heated rivals Southside and Northside on several occasions and still call games for each school individually, unscathed.
“It was a no-brainer for me that if I was doing the game and it was at Northside, Northside’s the home team and I could lean into it,” he says. “Then I got asked a few times to do the Southside home game with Northside being the visitor. I got flack from the Northside people, ‘You’re calling the threes for them like you do for us. That’s not right.’
“Let me tell you, I had to do that once for the Southside-Northside football game, a huge rivalry and they were both decent that year. I tried to make sure that I did everything I could to be non-biased in that game, but you have to lean towards the home team a little because they are at home.”
Announcers don’t decide ball games, but they make easy targets. Preston says he never got any serious trouble from fans, but what he did get he handled with humor and grace knowing the emotion at play.
“Someone would give me flack and luckily I was in the right mood most times,” he says. “I turned to them and I’m like, ‘You realize I work for Fort Smith Public Schools. That’s who signs my check, not the principal at Northside or the coach at Southside.’
“It was a challenge, but I felt like I met it, by the way the people commented and reacted as we’re walking out of the bleachers and down into the parking lot. I’m like, ‘OK, no one’s gonna try to get me. I don’t think we’re going to get refused service at a restaurant.’”
After thirty-eight years, Preston has no plans to retire, which is good news for local sports teams and fans, nor is he a threat to leave for another gig. Not that he hasn’t had opportunities to do so with offers from other schools including University of Arkansas baseball and women’s basketball. Instead, he chose Fort Smith where every game is a home field.
“I can promise you I never thought I’d be doing this for so long. I am committed to the program,” he says. “Westark College was huge to me because, even as a kid, the Boys Club I went to was on the corner of the campus and we played in that gym, so there was an attachment there. Then also, my dad didn’t like me quitting anything, so maybe it’s a commitment to him. At the end of this season, I will have worked over 2,800 games in basketball alone, high school and college combined.
“The administration feels that I do a quality job, I’m very reliable. I’m grateful to UAFS, Fort Smith Public Schools, and Walmart DC #6007—especially the managers who supported me over the years so I could take time for tournaments and travel. I’d be OK if they say, ‘It’s time to get someone new.’ But, as long as I’m still producing the same voice and in good health, I’d love to do it as long as they’ll let me.”
