Marv Albert at 71: I’m better now than I’ve ever been

It was my turn on the teleconference, and I asked Marv Albert how he felt about passing the big 7-0-mark in age in 2011 and whether he had any intention to slow down.

Albert, now 71, answered the question, and I didn’t think much about it.

However, the following day, I received word that Albert wanted to talk to me. A few minutes later, he was on the line.

“I didn’t feel like I gave you a very good answer to your question,” Albert said. “Your question caught off guard. I really haven’t been asked about it.”

Indeed, turning 70 isn’t news in this business anymore. It is just a speed bump for broadcasters and analysts these days. The landscape is jammed with guys who have blitzed past the notion of retirement age. Brent Musburger is 73; Verne Lundquist is 72. And heck, they’re just kids compared to Vin Scully, who turns 85 this month.

“The most important thing is that 70 is the new 68,” Albert joked.

Last week, he kicked off another NBA season on TNT, continuing a run that began in 1967 when at age 26 he became the voice of the Knicks.

With a bit more time to think about my question, here’s what Albert had to say:

“I feel I’m better now than I ever have been. You learn so much as you’re doing it. I’m watching tapes and I’ll see things that get me annoyed and where I know I can improve. I understand better letting the crowd play more. I’ve always said it was important for me who I was working with, because I like to kid around a lot. But I’ve also learned to use my partner better.

“I love what I’m doing. As long as I can stay at the same standard, there’s no reason to stop. It feels pretty good.”

Albert says he has cut back a bit in recent years, but it’s still a busy schedule. He calls an NFL game for CBS on Sundays; he was at Baltimore-Cincinnati Sunday. He has his basketball duties for TNT, and he picks up the NCAA basketball tournament for CBS and TNT in March, which has emerged as a favorite assignment.

The key for Albert?

“I still enjoy the preparation,” Albert said. “I look forward to getting ready to call a game.”

The real workhorse in the Albert family now is his son, Kenny. He does baseball and the NFL for Fox Sports; the Rangers games for MSG, along with other assignments.

“I ask my son, Kenny, ‘Why are you doing all this?'” Albert said. “And then I say, I did the same thing. You want to do everything.”

The new NBA season brings Albert back to his roots with the Nets moving to Brooklyn. He grew up in Brooklyn watching the Dodgers. He wrote a first-person piece in the New York Times last week.

In our interview, he talked about Brooklyn, the Nets and the impact on basketball in New York.

“It goes back to the Dodgers. It’s a very unique place. It’s very New York. I remember playing stick ball. The neighborhoods are unique. Coney Island. Brighton Beach, where I come from, playing roller hockey in the streets, taking the subway to go to Ebbetts Field.

“I don’t know if a large number of Knick fans will change to Net fans. I think the Nets will be a smash hit with the new arena. But you have to win. If they aren’t a winning team right away, that’ll be tough. They know that, which is the reason why they made the moves they did.”

Coming Friday: Albert in the latest edition of My First Job. Recreating minor league baseball games and sharing stage with Chubby Checker.

 

 

 

 

Q/A with Alex Flanagan: On Notre Dame’s big season and Brian Kelly; toughest NFL coaches for halftime interview

Alex Flanagan has been NBC’s sideline reporter for Notre Dame games since 2007. It hasn’t exactly been a joy ride. The Irish went 3-9 during her first year, and the following seasons, which saw Charlie Weis lose his job in 2009, haven’t come close to meeting the absurdly high expectations in South Bend.

So with Notre Dame 8-0 going into Saturday’s game against Pittsburgh, Flanagan is experiencing her first real dose of Irish fever.

“It’s great,” Flanagan said. “In other years, it could be tough doing that seventh or eighth home game in November. There’s a whole new feel and energy now. There’s definitely a different vibe in the building.”

I had a chance to talk with Flanagan about Notre Dame and Brian Kelly; her duties as a sideline reporter for NBC and NFL Network; her crazy schedule; and the most challenging coaches for a halftime interview.

What has been your experience dealing with Brian Kelly?

He’s been consistent. He’s been the same person from Day 1. He understands the job of being a head coach at Notre Dame, and the politics that come with it. I wonder if (his staff) is surprised in their third year that they are having the kind of success they’re having.

I’ve worked with him long enough where we have a joking relationship. Over the past few weeks, with the quarterback changes, I’m interested to know who’s starting. I was hanging around him before a game, and he looked over at me. I said, ‘I’m waiting to talk to you.’ He said, ‘I know you are.’

How different is it doing the games for one school such as Notre Dame compared to doing a different game each week for NFL Network?

You get to know everybody at Notre Dame. I’m old enough to where I get to know the parents (of the Notre Dame players). I feel like a mother to the kids on the team. A couple of weeks ago I caught up with (Jimmy Clausen’s mother) in North Carolina. I remember her as a mother sitting up in the stands when Jimmy was a freshman, worrying every time he got sacked.

It’s a different experience. Having said that, there are a lot of players in the NFL I knew from when they played in college. You end up pulling for them because you know their stories and background.

You know what the critics say about the value of sideline reporters. CBS doesn’t even use them. What’s your response?

I’m often asked to defend the job of the sideline reporter. I think of myself as an accessory. I don’t know if you can appreciate this, but I tell my female friends, ‘When you get dressed up in that great outfit, the one thing that can top it off is a great accessory. Like a necklace or ear rings.’

Are we a necessity for a telecast? No. But I can see a lot of things that happen on the field that (the announcers) can’t see from up high.

Such as?

The injury stuff is the big thing. Last year, Ben Roethlisberger looked like he broke an ankle in one of our games. I was able to talk to Mike Tomlin at halftime, and he said it wasn’t as severe as it looked. He wound up playing in the second half.

If a coach is mad, I can hear what he’s mad about. I can say he said this or that. A sideline reporter can help avoid a lot of the speculation.

What about the value of halftime interview with the coach?

It provides a view of what the tone and mood is of the coach. It doesn’t matter what he says as much as you can see how he reacts to a question. You can see his demeanor. I try to provide an insight and view for the person watching at home.

In the NFL, who are the toughest coaches for the halftime interview? The best?

You probably could guess the toughest. The coaches who run a tight ship. Jim Harbaugh can be intimidating. His brother, John, gets intense too. Bill Belichick.

You have to be in the moment with the coaches. At the top of their list at halftime isn’t talking to me about what went wrong in the first half.

With a certain coach, you have to carefully construct what you’re going to ask. Somebody like Jim Harbaugh listens to every word you say. You have to be specific.

Coaches like Jeff Fisher, Norv Turner are great to deal with. Mike Tomlin and Mike Smith. To be honest, every coach in the NFL understands it is part of the job and they are very professional about it.

You have a crazy schedule. You work the Thursday night game for NFL Network; Saturday for Notre Dame home games; and Sunday you cover an NFL game for NBC’s Football Night in America. You live in San Diego and have three kids under the age of 10. How do you manage it?

Yes, it is a challenge. Usually, I leave on Tuesday for the NFL Network game on Thursday. Then we get to South Bend on Friday. On Sunday, I usually fly out of Chicago in the morning to get to my NFL game.

But there are working women who work year around who leave the house every day at 7 and don’t get home until 6-7. I work every day for four months, starting in September. The rest of the year, I try to stay at home.

I like to say that I get the best of both worlds. I get to be a stay-at-home Mom for part of the year and a working Mom for other parts of the year.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Q/A with Jay Mariotti: On two years out of spotlight; his side of what happened on that night and aftermath; and his next step

The email in my inbox had a familiar name: Jay Mariotti.

Earlier that day a couple weeks ago, I had written a post about Mariotti. I wondered why he had taken two years off and if anybody would hire him again?

The email read: “You’re welcome to ask me questions. Don’t have to guess when I can give you context.”

Mariotti has a point. If I am going to comment and speculate about him, I should allow him to give his side. That’s the way I operate.

I followed up, asking if he was up for doing a Q/A. Prior to sending out questions, I did read his book on Amazon, The System: A Manual on Surviving Liars, Loons, Law, Life. Much of the book is Mariotti’s account of a domestic violence incident with a woman he was dating in 2010. He gives a condensed version in this Q/A.

Mariotti has been mostly on the sidelines ever since. However, he says he is ready to jump back in, and that there are opportunities out there for him. And if you think Mariotti has mellowed, well, guess again.

So here is “context” from Mariotti.

Why have you been off for two years? Obviously, you know the speculation out there. People don’t believe it is by choice.

Mariotti: “People” need to stop guessing when they really have no clue about me and what’s happening in my life. How irresponsible is that? They don’t realize what a great life I have here in Los Angeles. As I write this, I’m sitting under a blue sky by the pool in Santa Monica, with the ocean a few yards away. I read, write, ride my bike and work out here every day. Not really missing two bogus Sun-Times deadlines in Green Bay, eating bratwurst at halftime and getting back to Chicago at 4 a.m. That was a kamikaze mission for a failing newspaper — this is the good life.

When I’ve written more than 6,000 columns, done 1,800 TV shows on ESPN and 1,000 radio shows, covered 14 Olympics and 24 Super Bowls and dozens of golf majors and seen the world — and made a very comfortable living doing so — what possibly is wrong with voluntarily taking some time off in a beautiful place? I’m fortunate to not have to work, and I’ve taken advantage and cleared my head with two wonderful years away from the media business. I’ve had a rewarding and successful career, and not unlike some people in sports and Hollywood, I’m chilling until the opportunities are just right. I poured about 50 years of hard work into two decades. I’m preparing wisely for my next two decades in media.

Taking this break HAS been my choice, and whatever the speculation is, I can’t say I care when my two daughters are healthy and well and I don’t have to work for a corrupt Chicago newspaper as I did for 17 years. I’ve never been in better physical shape, and I’ll be back in sports media when the timing is right.

And just because I haven’t worked in sports media doesn’t mean I haven’t worked. I’m thick into a documentary project, for instance, and being in L.A. has opened new avenues to creativity. I’ve spoken to virtually all the big players in national sports media, including some the last few weeks. Right now, I’m mulling over three possibilities — all terrific jobs. If they happen, great. If not, Mumford & Sons are coming to the Hollywood Bowl next week. I would pay to see Alvin and the Chipmunks at the Hollywood Bowl — not exactly Tinley Park, you know?

Why did you decide to do the ChicagoSide columns? What was the reaction?

Jon Eig, the editor, is a best-selling author who wants to do a smart, responsible sports site. I like smart, responsible sports sites because there are too many bad, amateur-hour sites that are sludging up the business like rat feces. Jon asked me to do pieces when the urge strikes. He said the reaction has been great and the site traffic off the charts. I suggested a piece on the White Sox when they were in first place so I could show people I’m not the anti-Christ of the South Side.

What happened? The Sox choked out here in Anaheim and faded away. I had to write it. Can’t win with that franchise.

Jon then suggested a piece on why I still love sportswriting. It attracted national attention, and I did an hour on Sirius/XM Radio about it. No doubt I still resonate, and I very much appreciate all the nice words from folks.

Do you want to work again? And in what capacity?

Again, I have been “working” — I’m doing documentary work, wrote a detailed book about my career and court case and have a standing offer to do another book. When I regularly return to the sports media, I assume it will be in a mutimedia capacity — TV, radio, writing. And maybe for more than one employer — I’ve always worked for two or three at a time.

Have there been any previous offers? If so, why did you turn them down?

Yes. I’ve turned down some sports media things. One would have required a cross-country move to do a daily afternoon-drive radio show. Another involved a book that didn’t interest me. Someone wanted me to invest in a restaurant — thought about it, said no. I’d actually like to be a roadie for the Black Keys, but they haven’t asked. I have an agent out here at Octagon, a Chicago native. He talks to people all the time about me.

How have/will your legal issues impact your ability to get hired? For lack of a better word, are you “tainted”?

That’s a fine word. And the answer is no, I’m not tainted. Anyone who knows the real story, as I’ve written in meticulous detail in my Amazon/Kindle book, knows I was victimized by a system that enabled a troubled and vindictive woman to lie about me, abuse me and stalk me in the neighborhood in which I live. I’m pleased that top executives at some major media companies have taken time to read the book — one said it was commendable that I spent many months trying to help the woman, who was broke and had personal problems after being fired from her advertising job and going through a divorce.

Ever see “Fatal Attraction,” the movie? I often felt like Michael Douglas. But that doesn’t matter in post-O.J. Simpson L.A., where even a battered man doesn’t stand a chance when a couple is arguing on a street and a third-party witness calls 911. Prosecutors saw an opportunity for a quick series of headlines in the L.A. Times. They never wanted to hear my side of the story; they just funneled me through a preliminary hearing and left it up to me to take it to a trial, not caring about the invaluable witnesses we brought to the courtroom and my $250,000 in legal expenses, plenty of which made its way to a financially ailing city via outrageous court costs. I could have taken the case to trial, but what a circus that would have been. How do I know a jury wouldn’t profile me unfairly, as an opinionated ESPN commentator of Italian heritage, and assume guilt regardless of the truth? I chose to take a no-contest plea bargain for one low-level misdemeanor, which allowed this person to stalk me in attempts to entrap me and cause me more trouble.

It appeared I was headed back to work for AOL, where I was the lead sports columnist. It was the best job in the business, with unlimited travel and terrific camaraderie among the staffers, unlike the Sun-Times insane asylum. But the company suddenly cut me a large financial settlement while not telling me or anyone else that it was dumping the sports site while doing a lucrative deal with Arianna Huffington. I was not “fired” because of this court case. That hasn’t stopped sleazy bloggers from writing otherwise. Wish these guys would take some journalism classes and stop being reckless gossips.

Since then, the woman and her attorneys have demanded money. I have refused to pay a cent. If my fellow journalists do their due diligence instead of just assuming I’m guilty — or, worse, WANTING to assume I’m guilty — then they’ll see what this was: a desperate money grab. I was put through a hellish ordeal despite never going to jail or pleading guilty. I was exploited as a public figure, lied about by bloggers who don’t corroborate their wild guesses — one said I was going to jail for 12 years — and harassed by lawyers who wanted to make a quick buck in a settlement. I’m proud to say I didn’t budge, but that decision still hurt me because the woman then told more lies to police and prosecutors, who were all ears. All of these details are in my book. Thank God it’s over, and shame on the legal system for allowing the chaos to interrupt my life.

Everyone makes mistakes — and mine was getting involved with a person who clearly was using me. It’s no coincidence that since I wrote the book, everyone has gone away — lawyers, prosecutors, the person herself — while the presiding judge says he is strongly considering an expungement of the entire case so that it’s completely wiped off my otherwise clean record. In more than two decades of marriage, we never had such problems in a loving, peaceful household in suburban Chicago. The LAPD is reckless. The system out here is a money-gouging, plea-bargain machine. And it didn’t help that the Times — owned by the Chicago Tribune, my rival for 17 years — was basically re-running the district attorney’s press releases.

I don’t hit women — never have, never will. As the father of two daughters, I abhor domestic abuse. In truth, I was the one abused in the relationship; one night, she punched me 22 times in the chest, right against the stent inserted during my 2007 heart attack. I’ve discussed all of this on two Fox Sports podcasts and in a Sirius/XM interview. I’ve written a book about it. Now it’s time for everyone to move on and realize that men, too, can be victims of domestic abuse. Sometimes life can be so messed up, you have no choice but to smile, be happy that you and your loved ones are well and just enjoy another beautiful day in paradise.

I read your book and your version of what went down. However, the vast majority of people won’t read your book. All they know is that you were involved in a domestic violence incident. Is there any way for you to undo that perception about you?

The book manuscript was sent to a couple of thousand people — family members, friends and media. While it’s available on Amazon, I didn’t feel it was appropriate to aggressively market it. It’s a for-the-record narrative that corrects the preposterous lies and reckless investigative work. Once I return to the media, I assume more people will read it. I just want it out there to counter all the lies that were reported.

Perception? Only two people know what actually happened. One is a successful sports media personality with two successful, well-adjusted daughters; the other was broke, jobless, abusive and emotionally unbalanced. Shame on anyone else who pretends to know more than they do, which is nothing.

And who says no one is reading the book? The numbers were excellent initially, but when you change the pricing and update content on Amazon, the sales numbers start over. I wasn’t consciously monitoring sales, but one day, an alert popped up and said I’d cracked the top 30 among media authors, ahead of Dan Rather and Chuck Klosterman. My mother must have bought extra copies that day.

You wrote columns about athletes involved in domestic violence issues. Has your perspective changed? I’m coming at it from the angle of the rush to judgement and people not knowing both sides of the story, as you feel was the case in what happened to you.

Uh, remember Tiger Woods and the SUV? I wrote that night that we shouldn’t rush to judgment. Turns out I was too soft initially on his marital infidelities, which shows it’s wrong to categorize me as an impulsive hatchet man. I’ve criticized athletes for many transgressions, and most deserved it. But I sure will think twice — or maybe three or four times — before assuming guilt in the future.

Yes, after my first brush with the law in 50 years of life, I now have a keener understanding of how the truth can be manipulated for financial motives. I’ve met a few bad people in my life, many in the media or wanting a piece of my wealth as a media person. Away from the public eye, it has been nice to meet terrific people.

Could you write a column about domestic violence given what happened to you?

No one is better qualified. I know what it’s like to be physically abused. Remember Chuck Finley, the former major-league pitcher? People in sports laughed when he was abused by Tawny Kitaen, the actress. Well, guess what? It’s 2012. Men are abused, too, by women who know they can manipulate the system. Know how many times I wanted to call the police or a hotel front desk? I couldn’t because I worried about the fallout, even if the headline might say, “ESPN analyst accuses woman of domestic abuse.” Even that would have been frowned upon in Bristol. Such is the pressure.

How do you feel about ESPN?

I’ve been to Bristol twice this year. Starting with John Skipper, they’ve been very supportive. The network has a zero-tolerance behavorial policy because of its powerful brand name and recent issues with personnel, and I made the mistake of not getting out of a toxic relationship when I knew a person could hurt me professionally. I always had been extra-careful about my associations in the public eye, but I had a blind spot in this case. ESPN had every right to be disappointed in me, but our chats have been very positive.

I am concerned about the network and its ability, with so many business deals in place with sports leagues, to let its commentators have editorial freedom. That might be a bigger issue in my situation than you think. People such as Bud Selig and Jerry Reinsdorf weren’t happy I was on a five-day-a-week TV show on the flagship, and if ESPN really did reject Stan Van Gundy because David Stern didn’t want him on the air, I’m frightened for the network’s future. Somehow, I lasted eight years there.

For now, I’d like Adam Schefter and Kirk Herbstreit to stop posing in front of those little football helmets in their home-office studios. They look like little kids. What will we see next, their Hot Wheels collections?

Much has happened in the last two years in our industry. What stands out for you?

A softening of commentary. Rather than writing the tough piece for the readers, too many writers are writing marshmallowy crap for each other. And those with the guts to speak their minds with conviction — Skip Bayless and Stephen A. Smith — are maligned for it. Please. When did the business become so mushy? Are people that scared for their jobs? On the sleazy side of the spectrum are these numbnuts who put $12,000 in a paper bag for alleged pictures of Brett Favre’s penis. I hope that blogger’s parents are proud of him, but I doubt it.

More distressing is the lack of investigative sports journalism. Other than the new USA Today initiative, documentaries and profiles on HBO, the New York Times and a few people at Yahoo, who is busting big stories?

You wonder why I’ve taken my time returning. It’s not as if sports media is a sacred cause. There are some good, genuine, honest people in the business. But there are more sellouts, creeps, liars, cowards and lazy asses.

Do you think you still have your fastball? After being out for two years, do you think you’ll be able to summon the same fire/passion for a topic.

Theo Epstein is a fraud.

Curt Schilling should be in jail.

Too many people are piling on Lance Armstrong and forgetting the great work he has done in the cancer fight, which still outweighs his shame as a juicer.

The Bulls are doing Derrick Rose an injustice by not surrounding him with better talent. Why do the Lakers have four major stars and the Bulls one? When did Chicago stop acting like a major market?

Without Michael Jordan, whom he inherited, Jerry Reinsdorf would be 1-for-62 as a sports owner. That percentage would make him a bum if he owned teams in his native New York.

Until the Bears beat a real good team, slow down on the Super Bowl jabber. I still don’t trust Cutler and Lovie in the biggest moments.

The Sun-Times will die in 2013. The Tribune will die in 2015.

Fastball up near 100.

Will you be working in 2013?

Yep, assuming I’m alive.

 

 

 

 

 

How TV gets made: A look at massive enterprise that is Monday Night Football

You likely will sit in your easy chair tonight (do people still have easy chairs?) and flip on the Arizona-San Francisco game. You will listen to Mike Tirico and Jon Gruden, see all the replays and camera angles.

You will take it all for granted, and that’s just as well. How much thought do you give to how your car is made or what goes into your hot dog (you really don’t want to know)?

However, I got a chance to receive a behind-the-scenes look at ESPN’s Monday Night Football operation at Soldier Field last week. Make that, a huge operation. It gave me a new appreciation for what goes into the national telecast of a sporting event.

Occupying a large section in the bowels of the stadium, the Monday Night crew consists of credentialed production force of 250-300 people, 11 large 80,000-pound trucks, 35 cameras, and 25,000-35,000 feet of cable.

“Unless you see it up close, you can’t get a feel for the size of it,” said Steve Carter, who is ESPN senior operations director. “People take a look at all these cables, and say, ‘My goodness, this is big.'”

Speaking of the cables, I was sitting in the instant replay truck, looking at a massive board of connections. It literally was a wall of wires, seemingly randomly plugged in. I wondered if I pulled out one of them, would it take down the whole show?

I decided, not a good idea. I didn’t want to cause any headaches for Carter.

Carter is in his 13th year of making sure everything works when they flip the switch. He has a wonderful description for his job.

“I tell people, ‘Have you ever seen the parade for the circus?'” he said. “You see all the tigers, elephants and horses. And then there’s the guy with the shovel who gets to clean everything up. I’m the guy with the shovel.”

Carter, though, doesn’t appear to ruffle easily. He seemed pretty calm for a guy who endured a day of travel nightmares that left him with about an hour to spend at Soldier Field.

Perhaps Carter knows that it all works.

“It’s a controlled chaos,” Carter said. “There are a lot of pieces, but it all comes together. We’ve got such a good group of people. The great thing about this crew is that enough isn’t good enough. They always want to make it right.”

The biggest obstacle, Carter said, is the weather. The crew never had a bigger challenge than in 2010 when Metrodome roof collapse forced the Bears-Minnesota game to be played outdoors at the University of Minnesota’s college stadium.

“That was tough,” Carter said. “We always find ourselves having to adapt to the environment. Some challenges are more difficult than others, but we manage to get the job done.”

Here is one fact that got me: Carter said the entire operation will be torn down and on the road within three hours after the game. I don’t believe him. I can’t pack an overnight bag for a weekend trip in less than 30 minutes.

“Want to stick around and see?” Carter said.

I declined. I’m confident in the wee hours of the ESPN’s drivers had their trucks pulling onto Lake Shore Drive. All told, they’ll log more than 32,000 miles for the season.

They left Chicago and headed for Phoenix, and like Jackson Browne sang about the roadies, ready to do it all over again. After what I witnessed, I’ll be thinking of Carter and his crew Monday.

But you won’t, and that’s just as well.

 

 

 

 

My First Job with Mike Tirico: How Larry King helped land him anchor job in Syracuse

Mike Tirico is an immense talent. He didn’t need a fluke meeting with Larry King to help him land his first job.

Still, it never hurts to have a lucky break.

Earlier this week, while doing a Q/A with Tirico about his jammed schedule with ESPN, he told me a great story about his roots.

And I must share.

In the latest edition of My First Job, Tirico recalls how King unknowingly played a role in launching his professional career as a weekend sports anchor in Syracuse in 1987. Keep in mind, Tirico only was a junior at Syracuse University at the time.

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In 1987, Syracuse went to the Final Four. I worked the games at the same college station where Marv Albert, Bob Costas, Dave Stockton, Marty Glickman and Ted Koppel all worked.

Larry King was writing his USA Today column. You know, the dot-dot-dot thing. He writes, “The next time I need a sportscaster, I’m going to call Syracuse and tell them to send me the next one that’s ready.”

We saw that. So when we go to Washington to broadcast the Syracuse-Georgetown game, we ask if we can go see Larry King’s overnight radio show. It was a huge show back then.

The first hour, Larry has a Rutgers history professor talking about the Civil War. It couldn’t have been more boring. Then Larry does “Open Phone America” in the second hour. Larry is opening the mail, writing bills, and he’s on the air. We thought he was unbelievable.

Up to this point we’ve had no interaction with Larry except for a wave from the other side of the glass.

Larry then goes, “Would you like to know what it is like to be in college in 1987? Is it drugs? Sex? Books? We’ve got three college kids from Syracuse who are here, and they’ll be with us for the full hour.”

We’re like, “You’re kidding me.”

We did the whole hour at 2 a.m. One of our professors called in, and he made a big deal out of it. It was written up in the Syracuse newspaper.

At the time, I’m also interning at the CBS station in Syracuse. During that spring, they’re going through weekend sportscasters like they’re giving them away. They went through three in a 9-10 week stretch. Now they’re looking to hire somebody. And they make the great decision everyone makes at some point: Let’s hire somebody young and cheap. I was young and cheap.

Fast forward two months, and this weekend sports job opens up. The old veteran news anchor tells the GM of the station, “You should give Mike a shot. He’s good on the radio. And you read about him on Larry King.”

Larry King.

I got a six-week tryout as a junior in college. I was horrific the first weekend. I was Albert Brooks in Broadcast News with the flop sweat.

For some unknown reason, they gave me a second weekend. I got through that tryout and was there for 4 1/2 years before going to ESPN.

 

 

New book: How much did dealing with ‘media nonsense’ impact La Russa decision to retire?

I covered Tony La Russa during what had to be the low point in his career. In 1986, I took over as the White Sox beat writer for the Chicago Tribune.

That was the year Ken Harrelson assumed the role of general manager. Let’s just say it was a bad marriage. It resulted with La Russa being fired in June of that year.

Given what La Russa went on to accomplish in Oakland and St. Louis, there’s little question why Sox owner Jerry Reinsdorf called it the one decision he regrets the most.

I had a good relationship with La Russa during that season with the Sox and several years thereafter when he was in Oakland. I always found him to be fair, interesting and accomodating. I do recall I have never seen a coach or manager suffer more after a defeat.

Yet through the years, I have heard some writers complain about dealing with La Russa. It appears the feeling was mutual.

In his new book, Tony La Russa: One Last Strike, has a couple of interesting passages about his relationship with the media. Co-written with Rick Hummel, the Hall of Fame baseball writer with the St. Louis Post-Dispatch, he says the media element of his job wore him down. It was a factor in his decision to retire after winning the title in 2011.

Here’s La Russa:

***********

The media evolved over the years to the point where second-guessing and a lot else besides recapping the games took over. I want to make it clear that I understand that media people have to make a living and that, like me and our players, they have to survive in a highly competitive environment. Still, just because I understand all that doesn’t mean that I enjoyed it. It was more like I tolerated it as part of the dues you pay to stay in the game.

One consequence of media proliferation was it seemed as if some members of the media were trying so hard to make a name for themselves that they began to compete with the very players they were interviewing for the attention of the public. Toward the end of my career, these competitive individuals were becoming more the rule than the exception, and as in most competitions, hostilities were a natural result. Being stuck in the middle between the players and the media when this occurred was a taxing and irritating part of my job.

Having to manage the media, though not my full-time job, took up a considerable amount of time and energy and also took some of the enjoyment out of managing.

********

(Later he wrote)

Now, I don’t want to paint with too broad a brush here, because looking back at the span of my career, I have known plenty of appreciative and respectful players, as well as media members who were responsible and loved the game. Call it the squeaky wheel syndrome, the bad apple or whatever; but human nature being what it is, you tend to remember the really good and the really bad, and the big middle becomes kind of blank….

When I added in all the rest–the media nonsense especially–I thought that if I wasn’t getting the same enjoyment even under the best of circumstances with this team, then it really was time to get out at the end of the year.

*****

“Media nonsense”? Yeah, don’t think La Russa misses dealing with the media.

 

 

 

Q/A with ‘Benji’ directors: New 30 for 30 has dramatic interview with Wilson’s killer; powerful message about youth violence

What did I just see?

While watching a screening of ESPN’s new 30 for 30 Benji (Tuesday, 8 p.m. ET), I nearly fell out of my seat about 2/3s into the film.

The documentary recalls the tragic story of Ben Wilson, the No. 1 ranked high school player in the country who was shot down outside his Chicago high school prior to the start of the 1984 season. A 6-8 guard, Wilson drew comparisons to Magic Johnson.

It was a senseless act of violence that rocked Chicago and became a huge national story (opening from the film, below). More than 10,000 people attended Wilson’s funeral.

I covered the story for the Chicago Tribune. While the film was powerful and extremely moving, much of the content was familiar territory for me.

And then appeared the last person I expected to see.

Suddenly, there was Billy Moore, the high school boy who killed Ben Wilson. The kid who broke so many hearts and caused so much pain.

I had to do a double-take. Was it really him? Why was Moore dressed in civilian clothes? Was Moore speaking from prison?

It turns out Moore served 20 years in prison and now works as a youth counselor. He even was cited in a White House ceremony in 2009 as an example of rehabilitation.

In the film, Moore tells his version of what happened on that tragic day. He claims it was an altercation that got out of hand and that Wilson was more of the protagonist.

Whatever, Moore had a gun and used it to kill an innocent person.

Moore said he regrets what happened and how he wasn’t that kind of person. Clearly, he has turned his life around.

Yet I couldn’t help feel the anger about the life Ben Wilson never got to live. I’m sure many people will feel the same way watching the film tonight.

I had a chance to talk with Coodie Simmons and Chike Ozah, co-directors of the film. Simmons grew up on those rough Chicago streets and was 13 when Wilson died.

I wanted to know about the film, but first I had to ask him about the interview with Moore.

Here’s my Q/A:

How did you land that interview with Moore?

Simmons: One of Ben’s friends, Mike Walton, knew somebody who knew Billy. Billy called and said OK.

Really, one of Wilson’s best friends helped set you up with the interview?

Simmons: Yes, they understand what happened. They forgave him.

(Note: I am told Wilson’s friends hugged him after a screening in Chicago.)

How did the interview go?

Simmons: We just related. We’re both from the streets of Chicago. There’s a certain way you move around. He felt comfortable because of the things I went through.

Did you feel any anger in talking to Moore? What he did devastated the lives of a lot of people.

Simmons: I didn’t feel any anger towards him. He never wanted to shoot anybody. He destroyed his life. He said, ‘That wasn’t me.’

I know people who have been shot. I know people who actually have shot people.

When I was that age, we had guns. You felt like you needed one. You felt safe with it. I thought it was natural. This is what it was like in the inner-city. You’ve got to protect yourself.

I understand that could have been me.

It’s been 28 years since Wilson died. Why does his story still resonate today?

Simmons: It hit me a like a family member. I used to sneak in to watch him play. He was this great basketball player who was going to make it.

This was like Superman getting shot. ‘Wait a minute, This isn’t supposed to happen.’

When it happened, everyone came together. He actually changed lives in 1984. For this film, we thought we could bring that same kind of peace by telling his story.

How good was he? Has his legend been exaggerated in death?

Simmons: Everyone said he was Magic Johnson with a jump shot.

Ozah: The one thing that seemed constant from talking to everyone was how good he was. The kid was something special.

Wilson’s girlfriend and mother of his son and his son weren’t in the film. Why?

Ozah: We had some ups and downs with them. The final decision was they didn’t want to do it.

What do you hope people take from this film?

Ozah: I hope these young kids who are carrying guns look at the consequences of what could happen. Hopefully, they’ll step back and see that it isn’t cool.

Simmons: Usually you hear about the person who got killed. You don’t usually hear from the person (who committed the murder). What did he go through? What did he put his family through?

That’s why it was so important to have him in the story. Billy is the one who is going to reach those kids. He’s going to be the one who has the impact.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Q/A with Mike Tirico: On busy schedule; critics of Gruden; overrated impact of announcers

I tell Mike Tirico he needs to work harder.

“Joe Buck is working two games in one day,” I said. “What’s wrong with you? You’re slacking off.”

Tirico laughed. “I sent Joe a text. I told him it must have been awesome to have been a part of that,” Tirico said.

Seriously, Tirico doesn’t have to take a back seat to anyone with his schedule. Actually, October is a slow month for him. He only has Monday Night Football as far as play-by-play is concerned.

Starting in November, he will pick up weekly NBA games. His calendar includes Big Ten college basketball games in the winter and three of the four golf majors in the spring and summer. He also does weekly radio shows and podcasts for ESPN.

For all I know, Tirico calls sandlot games in his spare time.

Tirico and Jon Gruden are in Chicago tonight for the Bears-Detroit Lions game. Here’s my Q/A.

You don’t have one month during the year when you’re not working a significant event for ESPN. Why do you take on such a busy schedule?

My schedule can be a challenge. I have an extremely understanding family and wonderful people who facilitate things for me.

I grew up in New York when Marv Albert was doing Rangers and Knicks game, doing sports on Ch. 4 at 6 and 11, and he was NBC’s guy for boxing on the weekends. I went to Syracuse because of Marv Albert, Bob Costas, Dick Stockton. I wanted to be like those guys, and that meant you just couldn’t say, ‘Oh, this is too much.’

Listen, we’re not digging ditches. We’re talking about sports. Even though you’re drained at the end of the day, it’s not that hard. It’s a pretty good job.

This is the first time you’re working with a two-man booth for Monday Night Football. What has that been like for you?

The most significant part of my job is to get the most out of an analyst–make them relevant. It’s much easier to do it with one person compared to two. I love Jaws (Ron Jaworski). We text all the time.

But the difference with two people is that it is more of a conversation. I can carry on a dialogue easier than trying to deal with a third person. I can ask a second or third question.

What is it like to work with Jon Gruden?Jon is the best prepared of any analyst I’ve ever worked with. I truly understand why he’s been so successful. When we meet with coaches (prior to a telecast), they have so much respect for his knowledge and ability. He’s on the cutting edge of what’s going on.

When you see his preparation, it helps you to understand why good coaches and bad coaches make such a difference in the NFL. When you watch our games and listen to the things Jon says before they happen, it’s incredible.

I bristle at all the people who say Jon is too positive and never gets negative. If they don’t think Jon doesn’t point out mistakes, then they aren’t listening to the game.

Does Jon go to a different level of appreciation about the ability of guys? Absolutely, because he’s coached players. He knows what it takes to be Peyton Manning and what he does out there. Not to get on my soap box, but we’ve turned into a miserable society if we can’t enjoy being around the best in the world.

If you watch a game, Jon will say why a guy is doing that and why a guy is not doing that. When people say Jon’s not critical, I call those people lazy. They need to listen closely to the game.

I’ll get ripped for saying that, but that’s good.

You’re in your seventh year calling Monday Night Football. How have you evolved as an announcer?

I’m sure your 100th column was better than your first. I go back and watch every game. I’m always looking to get better.

However, I always say nobody watches for the announcers. They watch for a good game. If they really watch for the announcers, then on Sunday, the networks should put their best announcers on their worst game.

If Fox put their No. 7 crew on the Giants-49ers game, it wouldn’t change the rating for that game. All we can do is hopefully enhance the experience.

Let’s go back to the end of the Seattle-Green Bay game. How did that play unfold for you?

You start with the fact Seattle had a chance to beat Green Bay. Then the play happened. First, you’re amazed that the ball didn’t hit the ground. Now all my attention goes to the officials and I see nothing.

Then they make two different calls. Wait, what you got here?

Looking back, I’m glad about two things. When I made the call, I used the word ‘simaltaneous.’ Ultimately, that’s the rule they were looking at. I’m glad I used the correct word.

Second, I’m glad after the fire bomb hit, there was the reality that this was the most significant faux pas of the replacement officials. We said it was going to put pressure on the league to make a change. And it did.

Do you really call sandlot games in your spare time?

No, c’mon. Going to the Tigers game tonight (Tirico, who lives in the Detroit area, was going to game 4 of the ALCS). I’m glad it’s one of the one sports I don’t cover. I’ve never taken a credential to a baseball game. I have a partial season ticket, and it’s the one sport where I can truly be a fan. It’s so much fun to be there with the family.

I love waiting in line for the concessions, sitting in the stands. It makes you appreciate the people who fill the stadiums. It helps you be connected to the consumer.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

35 years ago: How too much wine nearly cost Skip Bayless scoop on Joe Namath retiring

Skip Bayless has a tremendous story about Joe Namath’s retirement. When we worked at the Chicago Tribune, I was like a kid, asking him to retell it like some favorite old tale.

Well, it just so happens that Namath played his last game 35 years ago this week. As this classic Monday Night Football video below shows, he was dreadful, throwing four interceptions in the Rams’ loss to the Bears.

To mark the occasion, I thought it was a good time to share Bayless’ story. Here’s Skip:

*******

I did sidebars (for the Los Angeles Times) on their game-days. We had a mutual friend. He put in a good word for me with Namath.

Namath hated the media. He was at war with the New York media and soon was at war with the LA media. He wouldn’t talk with anybody. He’d do a brief post-game. He’d hang his head, barely speak.

After the first exhibition game, I went to him. I said, “Joe, Skip Bayless.” He immediately lit up. “Joel told me,” he said.

So I hit it off with him. During the year, I’d get little scoops nobody else could get.

It ended very badly for him. Both of his knees were shot. He played only four games and lost his job to Pat Haden and Ron Jaworski. Their season ended very badly with a home playoff loss in the rain to Minnesota.

On Monday, I was sent to the Rams facility just to do a wrap-up. I walked in the lockerroom and it was mostly empty except for Namath. He was cleaning out his locker. I walked over, and I said, “You look like you’re leaving.”

He said, “I’m retiring. I’m done, man.”

I said, “Can I write it?”

He said, “Sure. You can have it.”

I said, “Can you talk about it now?”

He said, “I’m busy. Let’s meet in a couple hours. We’re having a little party (at some bar).” It was a California fern bar.

I run to the phone. I called my boss. I was like a son to him. He said, “This is huge. They are holding Page 1 for you.”

I show up and they’re already rolling. He’s got a bunch of friends I’ve never seen before. They were really close. They weren’t football people. They were already into their cups.

He had saved me a seat right next to him. He said, “What are you drinking?”

Quick back story: I came from a double alcoholic background. Both of my parents were wrecks. My grandparents were wrecks. My mother’s brother died of cirrhosis of the liver. My whole family was riddled with alcohol.

I had been told I had a genetic predisposition to alcohol. I’m obsessive compulsive. So I always avoid alcohol.

I just got married to my high school sweetheart. I was in a business fueled by alcohol. She always said, “If you have to, just order a red wine. Take a couple of sips and you’ll be OK.”

I start to nervously sip the red wine and try to take notes. I sipped through a whole glass of wine. The waitress immediately put down a second glass. I had no conscious thought of any danger.

Finally, I said, ‘Joe, I’ve got to run.’ As we stood up to shake hands–and I am not exaggerating one bit–I fell backwards into a man seated next to me. And then I fell on the floor.

Joe Namath stood over me and looked me right in the eye, and said, “Son, you’re drunk.”

I said, “No, I’m not.”

He said, “What do you plan to do?

I said, “I plan to go write my story.”

He said, “Are you going to drive?”

I said, ‘Yes.”

He said, “No, you can’t drive.”

He helped me to my feet. I felt my way out of the bar and called my boss. He knew I had issues with alcohol. I said, “Bill, you won’t believe this, but I’m drunk.”

I quickly told him the story. He did not chuckle.

OK, what are we going to do? I was in no condition to write anything. He asked, “What are the odds the Los Angeles Herald-Examiner has this story?”

I said, “I had no hint at all, but Joe despises everyone but me.”

“What if we hold the story?” he said.

I said, “I’ll give you 99.9 percent chance it’ll survive.”

He said, “OK, let’s hold it for a day.”

Sure enough, Joe didn’t say anything. And the next day, we had our story.

 

 

Will Jay Mariotti ever land another big-time gig? Says he still loves sportswriting

Jay Mariotti is back–sort of.

The former Chicago Sun-Times columnist wrote his third column this morning for ChicagoSide. The headline read: “Mariotti: Why I Still Love Sportswriting.”

He writes:

Why continue to embrace a craft that literally almost killed me, a profession currently diluted by so many unskilled bloggers and corporate suckups that it has lost much of its soul?

My answer remains the same as it has for three decades: Because I still love sports, and because I still love to write. Sports + writing = sportswriter.

His love letter continues:

After all the madness, all the liars and loons, why would I want to continue writing about sports? Wouldn’t I rather be a factory worker in China? An elephant sperm collector? Not a chance.

There’s no better place on the literary landscape that regularly strikes every nerve on the emotional spectrum, where the best commentators can profile a wonderful moment as easily as they rage over the latest scandal, where the essence of it all—you’re-wrong-and-I’m-right debate—remains a vital American exercise that turns ESPN rabble-rousers Skip Bayless and Stephen A. Smith into polarizing national figures.

And more love:

The ongoing dramas of organized competition reflect life in its rawest form—meaning nothing, really, to the ultimate condition of the world yet evoking mass reaction that keeps emotional juices flowing like no other genre. What would you want me to write about, Obama and Romney? My subjective objectivity would be shot down as biased by rotten political media types with agendas. Music? Yeah, I want to try explaining the Katy Perry phenomenon. Business? Only if fortified by a steady stream of Zoloft. Hollywood? Phonies everywhere.

There’s a reason, through history, why so many acclaimed writers have chosen sports or dabbled in it. Simply, it offers the meatiest subject matter with some of the highest readership.

Clearly, Mariotti wants back in. ChicagoSide, headed by Jonathan Eig, whose work includes excellent books on Lou Gehrig and Jackie Robinson, is giving him the platform for now.

While ChicagoSide does a nice job as a new site that offers a menu of diverse stories, Mariotti, who lives in Los Angeles, wants a bigger stage. And make no mistake: He is available.

Is he is reaching out to some outlets here?:

For every punk hack trying to increase hit totals by ripping an ESPN sportscaster, there thankfully are places such as The New York Times, USA Today and ESPN.com that have moved into the digital era by doing sports journalism the right way.

Later, he writes:

Someone asked if I prefer to have my old jobs back. Nope. I want my new job—multimedia in nature, commenting at large, dictated by the most important stories instead of each day’s news.

Finally, Mariotti concludes:

I hope Mr. Eig now understands why sports writing is a lifelong passion for me, assuming my life lasts much longer. Why do I like it? Because I’m pretty good at it, when others are not. And because I still know why sports matter, when others do not.

Mariotti writes in the piece, “I’ve merrily taken two years off in L.A. to recharge for the next 25.”

Merrily? I hope that’s the case, for Mariotti’s sake. But people who know him suspect two years on the sidelines has been very difficult. Jay doesn’t just chill.

From what I’ve heard, Mariotti wants to work again. Make that: Needs to work again.

But will anyone hire him? He still has that domestic violence incident with a former girlfriend that derailed his career. It hangs out there, regardless of what Mariotti claims really happened. He wrote an e-book, The System: A Manual on Surviving Liars, Loons, Law, Life, which is available on Amazon.

It’s been two years. Why isn’t he back to work on a full-time gig? Is it because of his own choice, or because nobody has called? Or nobody has called with the right offer?

Say what you will about him, Mariotti is a gifted writer and a polarizing figure who can command the room. But will a large entity give him another chance?

Mariotti is awaiting your call.