Sports talk radio is a strange entity. There is something good and pure about the realm of radio stations, as throngs of passionate, faceless, hardcore sports fans call in to their favorite shows to argue everything from offseason acquisitions to postseason letdowns.
There is also, however, a sad and pathetic aroma that wafts from the airwaves. You get the feeling when you listen to some of these people that they are clearly lacking something in their lives. You almost get the picture of a bald, fat guy with holes in his tank top and Cheetos in his teeth when you hear some of these callers. Some of them are quite uneducated. Many are shot down and put in their place by the hosts of the show. Then, you have a select few who rise above the fray. They dazzle fellow listeners with their knowledge and views on the game. They earn the respect of the hosts. They are the true superfans.
In Boston, it was Tom Speers, better known as ‘Butch from the Cape,’ who held this distinction. ‘J.T. the Brick,’ a radio host for the Fox Sports Radio Network, told Boston Radio Watch, ”Butch from The Cape’ is without a doubt the best and most famous caller in the history of sports talk.’
What made Butch special? Perhaps it was his sarcastic, biting humor. Butch lived in Massachusetts but he loathed the Red Sox, and even during his battle with renal cancer, was able to deliver the one-liners. In an interview with the WBZ network in February 2001, Butch declared, ‘Maybe I’ve got Red Sox cancer, the one everybody beats.’
Unfortunately, this wasn’t the case, and later that year, ‘Butch from the Cape’ signed off at the age of 58.
Two years later, the New York sports scene is forced to say goodbye to their ‘Butch from the Cape’ equivalent. Last Monday Doris Bauer, known to New Yorkers as Doris from Rego Park, also passed away at the age of 58. She is so well known and loved in the New York area that Joe Beningo, host of the overnight program on WFAN, New York’s premier sports talk radio station, told Newsday, ‘I’d say, 80 percent of the people I meet ask me, ‘Who’s Doris? Who’s the lady with the cough?”
The lady with the cough. That is how many people were introduced to Doris from Rego Park. Every single night, at one in the morning, Doris would call the show. Every single night since the station’s inception. That was 17 years ago. She would talk. And she would always cough. When new talk show hosts first heard her, they would have only one thing on their minds.
‘What is with this woman with the cough?’
WFAN Program director Mark Chernoff always gave the same response. ‘She knows what she is talking about. Leave her alone. She’s family.’
There were two factors that made Doris from Rego Park stand out from the horde of hardcore fans that comprise WFAN callers. The first was that darn cough. It was chronic, but it was the least of her problems. Doris lived a truly tragic life. She suffered from neurofibromatosis, a disease that causes the skin to develop tumor-like bumps. She was teased all her life because of it. Doris also battled several bouts of breast, lung and bone cancer. Through it all she never dated, never married. Her devotion was to WFAN and her beloved New York Mets. Which brings us to Doris’ second unique attribute.
Doris knew baseball and she knew the New York Metropolitans. We are talking Dustin Hoffman in ‘Rain Man’ levels of knowledge. When she was a kid, Doris would collect baseball cards and memorize the statistics on the back. When the Dodgers left Brooklyn, she chose to follow the Mets not an easy task, as those who swear their allegiance to the royal blue and orange can attest.
Being a New York Mets fan is not easy. Like Red Sox Nation, the Mets have had to deal with a Yankee inferiority complex since their inaugural game in 1962. Mets fans, however, have to hang out, work and live with those fans you love to hate. Fans of the Mutts are also burdened by another rivalry within their own division. The Atlanta Braves have been winning division championships since we were in elementary school, with the Mets often playing second fiddle. Each year, the Mets have high hopes of dethroning the perennial champs from down south. Each year, they fail miserably.
But Doris embraced her favorite squadron, holding a Sunday season ticket plan for the past 25 years. Throughout the turmoil, Doris’ optimism and good nature came through, winning the hearts of countless New Yorkers.
Doris perfectly encapsulated the essence of sports talk radio. On the one hand, her life was unmistakably tragic. You felt pity knowing Doris’ life revolved around the Mets every time she called the station. On the other hand, you also felt great admiration for her. Johnette Howard, columnist for Newsday, said it best:
‘It’s extraordinary, isn’t it?’ Howard said. ‘The idea of some anonymous soul in a city of eight million floating just a little above the rest of us because something in her essential nature her fundamental goodness came through on the radio?’
Rest in peace, Doris. My late night car rides will never be the same.
Josh Stern, a senior in the School of Management, is a weekly sports columnist for The Daily Free Press.
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