IN MEMORIAM: Remembering Craig Heist — A Passionate Voice, A Loyal Friend, A Fixture in DMV Sports
“Too bad, so sad.”
It was a signature phrase for a man whose voice became part of the soundtrack of sports in the Mid-Atlantic for nearly four decades. And now, it echoes in the hearts of those mourning his sudden passing. Craig Heist, a beloved and respected veteran sports broadcaster, has died — leaving behind a legacy of passion, humor, fierce sports loyalties, and enduring friendships.
The Baltimore Orioles were among the many organizations that paid tribute, writing:
“The Orioles are saddened to learn of the passing of Craig Heist, veteran sports broadcaster who covered the team for more than 35 years. We send our condolences to his wife, Suzanne, and the many friends he made throughout his career.”
Heist was a familiar voice and presence across Washington D.C. and Baltimore sports media, working for outlets like WTOP, 106.7 The Fan, and WSPZ, and known to fans as a reliable source of sharp questions, sharper wit, and unshakable dedication. But behind the mic and press box passes was a man whose enthusiasm for sports was rivaled only by his warmth and loyalty to friends.
A Moment That Captures a Friendship
One of those friends, a former colleague from their days at 100KHI in Ocean City, shared a poignant and heartfelt memory — one that blends their shared sports passion with the kind of camaraderie that defines lifelong friendships.
“Met Heisty around 1985 in Ocean City while working together at 100KHI. He did the sports for the station and several reports on my show. One enduring funny memory we always talked and laughed about…”
That memory takes us to February 21, 1986 — the day after the Maryland Terrapins pulled off a historic upset, handing North Carolina its first-ever loss in the newly opened Dean Smith Center.
“We both ‘ha. ted.’ Carolina,” his friend laughed in his tribute. “I’m at one end of our workplace as I’m arriving for work and there 15 yards away was Craig, and we both converged into a big bear hug, jumping up and down, laughing and cheering and celebrating! Everyone around who had no idea thought we were nuts.”
It was a joyful, spontaneous moment — the kind only sports can inspire, and one that would become a “bittersweet” memory in the wake of Heist’s passing.
A Career Built on Trust, Tenacity, and Timelessness
Craig Heist didn’t just report on sports — he lived them. Whether covering the Orioles, the Nationals, or the Washington Commanders (formerly Redskins, a team he was famously passionate about), Heist brought authenticity and a deeply personal connection to his reporting. He was a regular in press boxes and post-game scrums, always asking pointed questions and sometimes offering a laugh to break the tension.
His dedication earned him the respect of players, coaches, and media colleagues alike. He wasn’t flashy. He wasn’t chasing fame. He was, instead, dependable, genuine, and true to the craft.
Heist also remained loyal to his sports allegiances, even when it meant being the odd man out. His friend recalled teasing him endlessly about his love for the Redskins, even as they bonded over mutual support for other teams and disdain for a few rivals.
“Every time Duke 🏀 or Penn State 🏈 loses, in my head I’ll be saying, ‘too bad, so sad,’ and think of you,” the tribute reads.
A Personal Loss Felt Across the Sports Community
Though fans may have recognized his voice in post-game reports or his byline on coverage, those who knew him personally knew a man of tremendous kindness and humor — the type who’d celebrate a Terrapins win with a bear hug or cheerfully accept good-natured ribbing about his teams.
His death comes as a shock to many, with tributes pouring in from across the region’s sports media landscape. The press boxes he once filled with his sharp questions and quick wit now feel emptier.
Heist is survived by his beloved wife, Suzanne, and a long list of friends and colleagues whose lives he touched.
Saying Goodbye
Craig Heist was more than a broadcaster. He was a storyteller, a fan, a friend — someone who understood that the magic of sports lies not only in the games but in the shared experiences they create.
“It was a very sweet win,” his friend wrote of the 1986 Maryland upset, “and now a bittersweet memory.”
In the quiet moments after a buzzer sounds or a final whistle blows, those of us who knew him — or simply knew of him — will hear that familiar echo:
“Too bad, so sad.”
And we’ll smile, remembering the man behind the mic, and how lucky we were to hear his voice.
Rest easy, Heisty. You’re missed already.
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