To start another episode, he walked onto the stage wearing a red satin bathrobe and wide-striped pajamas with the other celebrities behind him also in their bedclothes — all acting as if they had overslept.  In 1963, Scully provided play-by-play for an episode of “Mister Ed.” Three years later, for the sitcom “Occasional Wife,” he spoke over the opening credits about a swinging bachelor whose boss demanded that his executives be married.  So, as Scully said, a friendly hatcheck girl “went on salary as his occasional wife.” He continued: “And they set up housekeeping — Peter in his apartment on the seventh floor and Greta in her apartment on the ninth floor, to the lasting confusion of the fellow in between.”  Then there is the singing.  In 1998, Scully sang a very credible version of “Take Me Out to the Ball Game” at Wrigley Field in honor of Harry Caray, the Chicago Cubs’ idiosyncratic announcer, who had died that year.  “His voice is beautiful,” Scully’s wife, Sandi, said by telephone. “Vin would be Gene Kelly if he could be anybody reincarnated.”  Scully sang in a barbershop quartet at Fordham and has always loved Broadway musicals.  On Sunday, after his final home game at Dodger Stadium, his rendition of “Wind Beneath My Wings,” a family-only treasure since he recorded it as a Christmas gift to his wife in the 1990s, was played on the public-address system as a thank-you to the fans.  Another family heirloom, a recording of Scully singing “If I Were a Rich Man” on a karaoke machine, remains unreleased.  As there are for all announcers of his vintage, there is a trove of missing baseball calls, too.  Little of his work from the 1950s and 1960s has been preserved; much of it was erased, discarded or never recorded.  Tom Villante, the producer of Dodgers broadcasts from 1952 to 1958, said the absence of so many early recordings was a great loss because of Scully’s vivid sense of drama and history. Villante wished to hear again Scully’s call of a catch by center fielder Duke Snider in 1954 against the Philadelphia Phillies’ Willie Jones, who was known as Puddin’ Head.  “It was like a 2-iron golf shot to left-center,” Villante said. “Snider ran over to the track, put his spike in the cement, got traction and made the catch.”  In a vault on the third floor of Dodger Stadium, the team maintains an archive of the franchise’s radio and TV broadcasts, with a fair amount from the 1960s. But some fragile footage rests in film canisters that have not been opened while they await their expensive digital transfer.  “We have Vin’s original welcoming call from the Los Angeles Coliseum,” Erik Braverman, the Dodgers’ vice president for marketing and broadcasting, said, referring to the Dodgers’ temporary home from 1958 to 1961. “We’re pretty robust in terms of audio.”  Still, the collection needs people like Jim Governale, whose uncle taped Sandy Koufax’s no-hitter against the Mets in 1962 — the first of Koufax’s four no-hitters — from the bottom of the eighth inning until the end. At one point in the broadcast, Scully said: “Kanehl, waiting at the plate. Koufax rubbing up the ball. Sandy straddles the rubber, leans on his right knee, stares in at Roseboro.”  Governale, who hosts a radio show on KKLA in Los Angeles, found the reel-to-reel tape in a box in 1990.  “I saw a clipping on the box that said it was a Koufax no-hitter, but it didn’t dawn on me that it was a rarity that the Dodgers wouldn’t have,” he said in a telephone interview. “I just thought it was cool.”  Governale did not do anything with the recording for a long while — “As each season started,” he said, “I found myself thinking I’ve got to send a copy of this to Vin Scully” — until he digitally saved it and donated it to the Dodgers in 2006.  Soon after, his father introduced him to more tapes, including the full broadcast of the first game at Dodger Stadium, on April 10, 1962, with a pregame interview with Dodgers General Manager Buzzie Bavasi. On the second pitch of the game from the Dodgers left-hander Johnny Podres to Cincinnati Reds shortstop Eddie Kasko, Scully said: “There’s a drive to deep left-center field. Back goes Moon — a-way back. It’s off the wall, caroming into left-center. Willie Davis after the ball, and Kasko has a long double. And the ballpark has been christened.”  In the booth or out, Scully’s voice will always be associated with baseball.  This year, he recited the speech from “Field of Dreams” for the Hall of Fame tour that made its first stop at the film’s original cornfield location in Dyersville, Iowa. Performing a cover version of James Earl Jones’s oration enabled Scully to deliver words that may have felt poignant to him and his fans as he approached his final game:  “The memories will be so thick,” he said, “they’ll have to brush them away from their faces.”  An earlier version of a picture caption with this article misstated the time period during which Vin Scully was pictured. It was the 1950s, not the 1960s.  A version of this article appears in print on September 29, 2016, on page B11 of the New York edition with the headline: The Voice of the Dodgers, but Game for Anything. Order Reprints| Today's Paper|Subscribe
The body of work of the longtime voice of the Dodgers, including his hosting of a game show and reading of a grocery list, reflects a time when no job seemed too small.