Where have all the good broadcasters gone?
Long time passing.
I’ll bet Pete Seeger never thought his lyrics could be twisted into a commentary on sports television. But this weekend, I’ve asked myself what happened to the good guys in broadcasting. You know, the guys who don’t make fools out of themselves.
FOX, in particular, is most guilty of buffoonery. Actually, I’d even go as far as calling the FOX Sports coverage thus far during October the biggest sports broadcasting foul-up since the Heidi Game.
All weekend long, we, as sports fans, have been subject to the FOX commentators’ inability to do their jobs. Let’s start with Saturday, when the Anaheim Angels played the New York Yankees in game 4 of the American League Division Series.
After the game, a 9-5 victory for the Angels that put them into the American League Championship Series, Rex Hudler, the former utility player (read: not good enough to be an everyday player), interviewed Angels Manager Mike Scioscia and, invoking his best Porky Pig impersonation, said something along the lines of, “Buh-dee, buh-dee, buh-dee, it’s a Rally Monkey, buh-dee, buh-dee, that must feel good.”
Wow. Maybe Rex should invest in a notepad, or perhaps a high school English class.
Naturally, Scioscia gave an answer that was completely unquotable — your standard, “We came out and played hard and won the game” response. The same thing happened at last night’s National League Division Series game five in Atlanta, which San Francisco won to move on to the NLCS.
The on-field reporter asked Barry Bonds, “How do you feel?” Bonds replied by mumbling something about being shocked and then saying he wants to win the World Series. Incredible — a baseball player who wants to win the World Series. And all it took to discover that was asking him how he felt. Excuse me while I choke on my sarcasm.
How about being insightful? How about asking Bonds what he thinks about sportswriters’ comments about him falling on his face in the postseason? How about asking him what thoughts were running through his head as he touched the plate after hitting his game-deciding solo homerun in the fourth inning? How about asking him if he had visions of Sid Bream rounding third when the Braves had two men on with one out in the bottom of the ninth?
The problem with today’s sideline and on-field reporters is they don’t know how to ask questions. Typically, they are former players (like Hudler and former Monday Night Football reporter Eric Dickerson) who know the game well enough but have absolutely no interviewing technique. However, guys like Armen Keteyian, who was trained as a reporter but never professionally played the sports he covers, seem to thrive. (In fact, I challenge you to find a former athlete who is better than Keteyian.) Maybe FOX should think about getting a few guys like him.
And the sidelines aren’t the only problem areas. It extends to the booth, as well. I’ll leave Tim McCarver alone for right now, since Joe Buck has appeared to elevate McCarver’s performance during the playoffs thus far, and switch over to football — Sunday afternoon, Philadelphia Eagles and Jacksonville Jaguars, with color commentator Bill Maas screaming about how incredible every play is. At one point, Maas broke out into some drawn-out analogy likening offensive play calling to dining out. I tuned out for a bit because the analogy lasted for about three plays (that’s two minutes, real time), but the gist was if you like a restaurant’s service, you’ll keep going back there. Likewise, if a running back or receiver keeps making plays, the offensive coordinator will repeatedly give him the ball.
It seems so simple in plain English, yet Maas felt the need to make it nice and flowery, with an analogy that most likely was completely lost on hundreds of thousands of viewers. Here’s the deal, Maas: Just cut it out. Say what you want to say and be done with it. Analogies are agonizing when they come from former athletes.
Troy Aikman, interestingly enough, does it well. He explains plays as if he were still on the field. Granted, he also works with Joe Buck, but he does his job. He talks football and it makes sense.
And there’s more: Not only did Maas confuse his audience, he got riled up over nothing. His level of intensity was so high, I can’t imagine what would have happened if the game had gone to overtime. His head might have exploded. If there’s one lesson I’ve learned from watching and listening to Bob Costas and the late Jack Buck, it’s that there is an excitement threshold. As an announcer, you can’t start a game at 10 on a scale from one to 10. You need to start at the bottom. If you don’t, you have nowhere to go when John Elway throws a game-winning touchdown pass with no time left on the clock. The importance of that one amazing play is diminished when you foam at the mouth over a converted third-and-6 at the 50-yard line in the second quarter.
If the extent of my ire isn’t clear yet, let me regale you with one last stanza of venom.
It seems all of the mess FOX is in has been created by their month-long, overblown promotion, “October’s Magical Matchups.” Apparently, at the beginning of the month, the FOX Sports suits got together and told all of the on-air talent to over-inflate everything they say and to pump up their figurative speech to make the games seem more important and, thus, boost ratings. Hence, everywhere I turn, I hear that the Angels’ postseason performance is “heavenly” and baseball studio anchorwoman Jeanne Zelasko tells me the Atlanta baseball team is in search of a “Braves New World Series.” Coincidentally, Aldous Huxley is back from the dead and he’s pissed off.
Somehow, I can’t buy into the rampant analogies and metaphors and stock footage of pitchers running their fingers over the seams of a baseball. And I have a really difficult time believing a Week Five game between the New York Giants and Dallas Cowboys is a “Magical Matchup.”
Why not just let a game be magical if it’s going to be magical? Why not just shut up and let the players play? Throughout the history of sports, the games have lifted talented announcers to greatness, but never has a talented announcer made a game great.