Don Orsillo sat in a living room in Cohasset, Mass., thinking he was blowing the audition.

The minutes were crawling by on a January day in 1989, and Orsillo’s childhood idol was sleeping, of all things. Meanwhile, the college sophomore sitting in the living room felt like an afterthought.

Orsillo had arrived that morning at the home of Ken Coleman, the voice of the Boston Red Sox . He’d taken a sports broadcasting class at Northeastern University taught by Joe Castiglione, Coleman’s partner, and before Orsillo could land an on-air statistician internship with the duo, he was told to arrange a meeting. Coleman needed to sign off on the new kid.

After Orsillo pulled up in a red Pontiac Grand Am (his mother had co-signed for the rental), he knocked on the door and began to introduce himself. Within the first sentence, Coleman cut him off. He informed Orsillo he was heading upstairs for a nap.

Some 90 minutes later, Coleman reappeared wearing a blue blazer, checkered pants and a Red Sox -themed tie. Orsillo, dressed in a suit and tie himself, stood, expecting to be grilled on his qualifications.

“You got a car?” Coleman asked.

Orsillo replied he did.

“Great,” said Coleman, who then revealed he had to make a speech to a Red Sox booster club.

While he drove them into Boston, Orsillo tried to engage Coleman in conversation. He wanted to tell him that, growing up in a dirt-road house in Madison, N.H., he’d listened to Coleman’s calls every night. He wanted to mention that he’d love to someday do what Coleman did.

“I can’t talk right now,” Coleman said. “I have to write this speech.”

Though Coleman eventually posed a few questions, he did not invite Orsillo to attend his speaking engagement. Orsillo dropped him off, returned the Grand Am and trudged back to his dorm room. Castiglione called, wanting to know how the “interview” had gone. Orsillo thought he’d flubbed it.

He was wrong. The job was his. Turned out, Coleman liked the new kid.

Twenty-seven years later, the job is his, again. Hired at the end of September on a six-year deal, Orsillo will make his regular-season debut for Fox Sports San Diego tonight. The Padres , back from their first road trip, are scheduled to host Zack Greinke and the Arizona Diamondbacks .

It will be the first of approximately 55 broadcasts for Orsillo this year. He’ll call perhaps another 50 games on radio, his first love. At the end of the season, play-by-play announcer Dick Enberg will draw the curtains on his Hall of Fame career, and in 2017, Orsillo will ascend to a full-time post: television voice of the Padres.

Don Orsillo (left) with Vin Scully in 1989. — Courtesy of Don Orsillo

Those who know the 47-year-old believe he’ll prove to be one of the organization’s best acquisitions in recent memory, on or off the field.

“I would tell people in San Diego don’t be afraid to go talk to him when they see him in the store,” says Michael Narracci, a former co-worker who remains a close friend. “He’s good, fun, self-deprecating. Just a guy you want to have a beer with. What you see on air is what he is.”

“I think the audience in San Diego is really going to like him,” says Jerry Remy, another colleague-turned-confidant. “He comes off as a person who’s very likable on air, someone you can trust. I just think he’s going to be a perfect fit.”

Narracci, a coordinating director for the New England Sports Network, and Remy, a former major leaguer and longtime Red Sox color analyst, would still be working alongside Orsillo if not for a change he didn’t see coming.

Last summer, Orsillo was rolling through his 15th season in a job he’d dreamed about. He was NESN’s lead play-by-play man on Red Sox broadcasts, the narrator for many of the greatest moments in franchise history. He’d called three no-hitters and as many World Series championships. He’d been approached about national gigs, but each time he chose to stay where he was.

Seemingly, Orsillo already had found his perfect fit. He was doing what, at age 12, he’d told his parents he wanted to do. He was doing what Coleman did.

Orsillo with the Red Sox

Then, in August, word leaked that NESN would not be renewing Orsillo’s contract after the season ended. Orsillo was blindsided. His viewership was distraught, even outraged. An online petition for the Red Sox to keep him on collected more than 63,000 signatures.

To no avail, though. The Red Sox had decided on a different direction, even if, in the eyes of many, no satisfactory reason was given. While Orsillo handled his firing with a dignity that only emboldened his supporters, his thoughts turned to what he would do next.

“It’s really all I knew, so when that was coming to an end, it’s a pretty daunting thing,” Orsillo says. “You look around and see there’s only 29 other teams. For the most part, guys don’t leave. Some go into their 80s. There really aren’t a lot of opportunities.”

Sports announcer Don Orsillo waves from the broadcast booth following a video tribute during the eighth inning of a baseball game between the Boston Red Sox and the Baltimore Orioles in Boston, Sunday, Sept. 27, 2015. (AP Photo/Michael Dwyer)

Orsillo had experienced that scarcity up close.

In the early 1980s, his father started a new job, moving the family from New Hampshire to Rancho Palos Verdes. Though Orsillo would return east for college, by then he’d spent countless hours listening to Bob Starr on California Angels broadcasts.

That Starr replaced Coleman on Red Sox radio in 1990 — the latter had retired — was a neat coincidence. Orsillo’s internship spanned two seasons, and both voices became mentors and models, reinforcing his conviction.

Two days after graduating from Northeastern, Orsillo found himself in Watertown, N.Y., beginning work for the short-season Pittsfield (Mass.) Mets. On the road, he called radio broadcasts and braved suspect motels. At home, he manned the PA system and assisted the grounds crew on rainy days.

Hurrying from one town to the next, Orsillo stayed in such places as the Green Shingle, a since-demolished truck stop in Erie, Pa. The smell of diesel was strong enough that he began bringing candles on the road. To this day, he still does, out of habit.

Devoid of major league comforts, those early days lent a unique perspective.

“Being able to see what the players see from the ground level gave me a greater appreciation,” says Orsillo, who spent his first several offseasons broadcasting minor league hockey for the Springfield (Mass.) Indians . “It’s also incredible to see how many guys don’t make it.”

After two seasons, Orsillo advanced to broadcasting Double-A games for the Binghamton (N.Y.) Mets. Three years with that affiliate prepared him for the jump to Triple-A in 1996. His new club: the Pawtucket Red Sox, their Rhode Island ballpark just an hour’s drive from Fenway.

Orsillo felt he was closer than ever to the big leagues. His faith would be tested. By the start of the 2000 season, he was still a tantalizingly short trip away.

In 2001, after he’d filled in on three Red Sox broadcasts the previous September, he received the real call-up. Ten years in the minors had provided a surreal payoff.

For his first game, on April 4, 2001, Hideo Nomo no-hit the Orioles in Baltimore. The ninth inning of Orsillo’s call was picked up by ESPN and broadcast to the country.

More than six years later, Orsillo was on the microphone for TBS, calling the 2007 National League Wild Card tiebreaker game. In the bottom of the 13th, the Colorado Rockies beat the Padres on a controversial play at the plate.

“It was a tremendous, tremendous game,” Orsillo says. “ Matt Holliday still has not touched the plate, in my opinion.”

If comments like that don’t endear Orsillo to his latest audience, his smooth baritone and what others describe as a disarming persona could win San Diego over, anyway.

“The word ‘adaptable’ is very appropriate,” Narracci says. “When the game is on the line, he’s a very serious broadcaster, a great call. But I think when the game gets out of hand and you have to turn to entertainment mode, he can shift gears and do that.”

Red Sox broadcasts regularly saw Remy making off-the-cuff comments, often prompting uncontrollable giggling from Orsillo. Many of their most amusing moments have been preserved on YouTube.

“It’s terrible he had to leave (Boston), but the fact is, I’m glad he got a job in a beautiful city, a great place, and he’s going to replace a legend out there,” Remy says. “Fans are really going to enjoy his personality. I think they’re going to feel they’re part of the family. That’s really what you aspire for as an announcer.”

Don Orsillo with Vin Scully in 2013. — Courtesy of Don Orsillo

Says Padres color analyst Mark Grant: “I’ve only done one game (in spring training ) with him, but I already feel like we’ve been friends for 20 years.”

That was roughly how long Orsillo spent with the Red Sox organization, beginning with his debut in Pawtucket. Two decades later, he’s joined a new cast, but in at least one respect, it feels like a return.

“There’s only two places I’ve really known in my life, New England and Southern California,” Orsillo says. “When the Padres came calling, I was all for it.

“Everybody has made me feel so welcome here,” Orsillo adds, rattling off a list — Enberg, Ted Leitner, Jesse Agler, Mark Sweeney, to name a few. “And I haven’t even done a game yet.”

Tonight, he’ll call the first of many. As comfortable as he is in a booth, this still represents a change, still marks the opening page of a new chapter.

“It has been very different. ... It will be different,” Orsillo says. “I’m excited about doing my first game because it’ll be a little more normal, because baseball’s baseball.”