Jack’s Blog

In the April 28, 2008 addition of Sports Illustrated - yeah, five years ago - there was an article about the NFL draft.  Not surprising, since it was the same time of year as the one held a few days ago.  The article was about the 1998 draft, the one with Peyton Manning and Ryan Leaf, and with the #5 pick (Curtis Enis, who retired from the league two years later) and the #92 pick (Hines Ward, who became the Super Bowl XL MVP).  A couple of the people quoted in the piece were New Orleans coach Sean Payton and former Green Bay Packers general manager, and current San Diego Chargers consultant, Ron Wolf.

Their discussion was, naturally, about the “science” of drafting football players.  Their comments, however, rang just as true as if they were discussing the NBA draft.  Payton’s comment was, “You get excited about a guy because of his tools and projecting his ability, but so much of this is looking beneath the surface.”  As the NBA playoffs continue, it’s impossible not to look at the “nobodies” who slipped through the draft cracks and the high profile picks which have yet to live up to pre-draft hype.  Everybody knows the Sam Bowie over Michael Jordan gigantic  mistake and Greg Oden before Kevin Durant humongous error.  Another interesting example would be the 2009 draft in which the Minnesota Timberwolves were in the market for a guard (several as it turned out).  They took Ricky Rubio, Spain’s version of “Pistol” Pete Maravich, with the fifth pick.  They also had the sixth pick and, because most thought Rubio would be difficult to sign, they decided to go with an additional point guard.  Their choice was Syracuse’s Jonny Flynn - whose career mostly has been in the NBA, although last season he played for the Melbourne Tigers in Australia.

What Payton meant can clearly be seen in that selection.  Not only did Minnesota select Flynn over the next pick, Stephen Curry, whom the T-Wolves are constantly being reminded went to Golden State but they also passed on #10 Brandon Jennings, #17 Jrue Holiday, #18 Ty Lawson (they actually did draft Lawson but it was only to trade him to Denver for a future first round pick) and #19 Jeff Teague.  It’s more than a stretch to say that guys picked in the first round “slipped through the cracks” but it does show how the draft is such a crap shoot for a team when its name comes to make its draft selection.

Other classics?  How about the Clippers, a year after they wisely (OK, that year, a three-year-old would have) picked Blake Griffin at #1, they felt they needed to get a small forward with the ability to get his own shot.  They chose Al-Farouq Aminu with the eighth pick.  The Jazz took Gordon Hayward next, just before the Pacers who grabbed (and has never let go of) Paul George.  Why would the Clippers pass on Paul George for Al-Farouq Aminu?

For the answer, listen to the eerie crossover similarity between football and basketball, as told by Ron Wolf:

The fascinating thing about pro football is, no matter how long you’re in it, you can’t predict how guys are going to handle the pressure, the limelight, the money.”

Fan is short for fanatic.  It’s just that a fanatic gets fanatical about his or her team when the team is down as well as when it’s winning.  And that fanaticism can take on the form of sarcasm, negativity and disgust if losing persists - even if injuries turn a slim chance into a nonexistent one.  In the case of the Los Angeles Lakers, their fans should have their “fan licenses” revoked after the way they acted toward their team - or what was left of it - the past few games.

If any Lakers fan is asked to name the greatest player in the NBA, every last one of them will (still) yell, “Kobe!“  So, when your team loses its best player - who happens to be the best player in the NBA (according to you) - wouldn’t you think it would be normal (even for fanatics) - to tone down their expectations?  At least a little?  One of them was heard (on the air in Fresno) answering that question by exclaiming, “Maybe, but this is the Lakers.“  Meaning what?  That there’s a proclamation issued that your team is bequeathed wins?

First of all, before they lost Bryant, the Lakers were a seven seed matched up against the two seed.  The two seed that just happened to be the San Antonio Spurs, a team that’s used to post season pressure, having won its share of championships in the past, and a team that has a coach in Gregg Popovich who many think is the best in the business.  In addition to having the great Kobe MIA for the remainder of the year, Los Angeles had Steve Nash as its point guard.  He would have been the perfect lead guard had he not gotten hurt.  Some fans felt that it was a mistake to obtain Nash because it was inevitable he was going to get hurt - with his age and history of injuries.  Nevertheless, these fans still expected Nash to lead the team to a World Championship.  But, alas, Nash got hurt and wasn’t available last night.

Steve Blake is, ideally, the back up to Nash, so with Nash out, Lakers fans felt he was certainly capable to lead the team.  Then, he pulled his hamstring - and now he’s out indefinitely.  Jodie Meeks, a nice complementary player was next, but he sprained his ankle and is headed for an MRI.  Is there someone out there with a Los Angeles Lakers voodoo doll?  I guarantee if there was such a thing, they’d sell out in a hurry.

Still and all, Laker fans went into Game 3 with hope that, maybe the home crowd could pull them through.  Of course, if that were to happen, it would have to wait until at least midway through the second quarter because that’s when it’s fashionable to show up in LA.  You know, like, with the traffic and all.

When the game began, the Lakers got a few points from their big guys - Pau Gasol and Dwight Howard.  The fans, which include their announcers, actually thought, even though the game is 48 minutes, that they’d have a shot.  “Get it inside!” they yelled, because it is somewhat unrealistic to depend on a second year player and a guy just called up from the D-League to knock down enough shots to win.  And, because that’s what Kobe tweeted.  As if the Spurs didn’t consider it would be a good idea for the Lakers to try to score that way and had not game planned for it.

That’s when the cynicism begins.  All because the fan’s team is losing.  And they don’t want to be a loser.  A number of them are losers in what they do.  The Lakers give them meaning - and they think - respect.  Hey, they don’t need any more help being a loser.  While fanatic has the word “fan” in it, so does infantile.  Winston Churchill said a long time ago:

“A fanatic is someone who can’t change his mind and won’t change the subject.”

On 4/30/08, I posted the following blog.  Five years later, my feelings remain unchanged.  Coaches get fired every year and as salaries soar (due to a minority of coaches who excel at their craft), pressure is ratcheted up even greater.  One fact remains.  Whatever number of teams a league has in it, somebody is going to finish last.  Writers and sportscasters aren’t held to such a standard.  See what you think.     

At the beginning of each season, there are preseason polls, usually the work of sportswriters, sportscasters and other various and sundry pundits.  At the conclusion of the year, many of these prognosticators who put together these polls in the first place are talking about how many of the teams picked to win or finish at the top of their conference/division had disappointing seasons.

Fans, boosters and owners often buy into this concept - and they lose confidence in the coaching staff, increasing pressure (which, believe me, there is plenty already) or patience (and make a change - possibly just at the time the team was poised to have that breakthrough year - see Mike Krzyzewski at Duke after their 11-17 record in the ‘82-’83 season).  Coaches have been chastised on numerous occasions for “bad-mouthing” their team’s chances during the preseason, the critics claiming the coaches don’t want the pressure.  While this is possibly true, the coach also may know something (being much closer to his team than those doing the ranking) that will prevent them from living up to such a lofty selection.  Also, the reason could be that no one wants to have to live “up” to expectations; that they’d rather “surprise” people, have great seasons and, receive (sometimes planned, often not, but always welcome) the praise for an “over-achieving” campaign.  Many times these types of seasons lead to raises, contract extensions and, on occasion, a new gig (see Keno Davis from Drake going to Providence for somewhere in the neighborhood of seven figures and long-term security - whatever that is in the coaching profession - after the Bulldogs went from being picked at the bottom of their conference to becoming media darlings and NCAA Tournament Cinderellas). Note: since then, Davis has lost his job at Providence.  Replace his name and Drake and Providence with Andy Enfield and Florida Gulf Coast and USC.  Obviously, the current system is purely speculative (although fans love them, hence resulting in selling more papers and magazines) and on some occasions, they might be right on target.  Of course, the possibility exists that these pollsters have limited knowledge of “what they speak” (or rate) and put untrue, excessive or unfair expectations on the teams.  And the coach.  Keep in mind that for every Keno Davis, there’s a guy who was picked high and finished low (possibly costing him the loss of his job) - all because a group who may not have done any (or, at most, limited) research into the project or, as is known to happen, may have given it to a gofer to select.

Wouldn’t it be interesting to make everyone’s poll public information and, when a guy makes drastically wrong selections (maybe two or three years in a row), he loses his job (maybe as just a prognosticator - or maybe as a “whatever he actually does for a living”)?  It would make watching the final polls so much more interesting.  Can you imagine a player or coach asking a pollster at the post game press conference, “Well, you picked us last in our league and we’re on top while the team you predicted to ‘win it all’ is struggling in seventh place.  Are you at all worried about your position at the paper/station?”  Wonder how that guy’s wife would react if she heard that on the local or national news and how their kids would feel at school the next day when their classmates would approach them and innocently ask, “My dad said he heard your dad is going to get fired.”  Just another item to check in the “interesting things to think about but will never happen” category.

These prognosticators should take into account the words of Benjamin Disraeli who said:

“How much easier it is to be critical than be correct.”

After an 82 games (not including those always exciting preseason tilts), the NBA moves into the “games that really count” portion of the schedule.  The first round used to be best-of-five but they were changed to best-of-seven for two (really one) reason(s).  The first was that best-of-seven add more games (even though it may only be one game per match up) and more games mean more money.  The other (as in redundant) reason is that, on occasion, the lower seed would win - which usually translated into fewer games - meaning less money.  And, as we’ve all come to know, if there’s one thing owners desperately care about it’s the health and well-being of the players money.

Way back when I was a youngster (as in 50 or so years ago), we knew what season it was by what professional sport was playing its games.  Baseball’s guys were called “the men of summer.”  Football was played when the leaves were turning colors, i.e. fall.  Basketball was indoors because it was in the winter.  Spring was for baseball’s spring training unless you lived in the south (or Texas or Oklahoma), in which case it was reserved for college’s spring football.

All the best bowl games were New Year’s Day and a week or so later the championship game in pro football, which became known as the Super Bowl, was played.  Now, the Super Bowl is in February (which only has 28 days so it could be in jeopardy of losing its showpiece television program).  The World Series has ended in November which means the new baseball fan will wonder if Reggie Jackson is known as Mr. October because he couldn’t deliver in the biggest games.  And while it used to be that basketball’s end meant baseball was about to begin, the NBA Finals may have to be scheduled around the major league all-star game.

Since it’s finally here, let the youngsters make believe they’re hitting the game-winner while we reflect on having done the same in our youth.  Beyond the memories, let’s just sit back and watch the world’s greatest athletes perform acts that would be difficult for viewers a foot shorter or a light year slower.  Basketball has become a combination of ballet and MMA in which there needs to be a strong emphasis of teamwork.  I’m not sure Dr. Naismith would be proud or utterly confused.

While NBA players are usually the most confident bunch in the world (next to boxers), this year (at least so far) there haven’t been too many outlandish quotes.  I saw one attributed to the Grizzlies’ Tony Allen which, undoubtedly, will be repeated thousands of times by countless others:

“We just want to take it one game at a time.”

Most people, myself included, read Sports Illustrated for the articles.  At least until the swimsuit edition arrives.  But other than that issue, pictures are secondary (after the first few pages) to the written word.  The last page has become an audition to see which writer comes as close in popularity to the readers as Rick Reilly.  It might be a stretch to compare him to John Wooden but there seems to be no outright favorite yet even though there have been several very good columns.  It seems that there are many Gene Bartows, Gary Cunninghams, Walt Hazzards, Jim Harricks, Steve Lavins and Ben Howlands (most of whom were outstanding coaches) at SI but no one like Coach Wooden.  For my money, there hasn’t even been a Larry Brown yet.

When SI first asked its readers which of a list of sports, other than football, basketball, baseball and possibly a couple others that currently escape my mind (which shows my particular tastes), they had an interest in, e.g. tennis, golf, auto racing, etc. my choices came down to tennis and golf.  It was a tough choice and if I were younger - and still playing tennis - that would have been what I’d have selected.  Since my back issues eliminated playing tennis about a decade ago, I chose golf.  Now I get additional articles on the sport as well as special extra editions.  A good friend of mine is a scratch (or close) golfer so those issues go to him, after I’ve briefly scanned them.

The one on the Masters that just came out intrigued me enough that as I perused it, the article with their panel of (three) experts (and one anonymous pro) caught my eye.  Opinions abound in sports and I’ve found (through experience) it’s always a good idea to hear what others who are deeply involved in a sport or topic think before you start popping off, or even discussing, issues so as not to look foolish.  Although I’ve read some interesting points in the past, little did I think I’d come across as introspective an explanation as Gary Van Sickle’s regarding Rory McElroy’s approach to his profession.  Van Sickle said of the young star:

“He’s not all golf like Tiger was.  Rory is going to take the time to enjoy his life.  He reminds me of Arnold Palmer a little there.  He’ll be streaky great, and he’s got other interests.  He’ll have a better quality of life, and if that means a couple fewer major wins in the long run, that’s all right.”

In addition to expertly defining the differences between the two golfers, the Van Sickle quote speaks volumes to most everybody who has a job.  If you’ve just entered the working world, those are your choices.  How do you approach your profession?  Do you love it so much that it consumes your every waking minute?  In the business world, that type of an employee is called a workaholic.  Those people often find an abundance of material wealth, yet, frequently, there is something missing in their life in another area of it.  In the field of sports, we call them single minded and driven.  Some (most?) people think a person’s life should be balanced.  We all remember the old adage “All work and no play make Jack a dull boy.” 

The times and people (and salaries/purses for sporting events/endorsement deals) have made that quote obsolete.  Now, it’s “get it while you can” and “the window of opportunity is open only so long.”  Maybe not so much in golf where some wise brilliant old golfer had the imagination - or told somebody else - to create a Seniors Tour.  Still, people don’t want to see extraordinary talent not pushed to the ultimate.  Usually parents and agents because 1) nearly all of them weren’t as athletically blessed and 2) they don’t have to do the heavy lifting.

Far too many people have altered the line so that it turned around the original message.  Maybe Rory McElroy has it right but for now it’s become:     

“All work and no play make Jack (or Jill) a champion.”

Since the beginning of time, there have been different types of leaders on athletics teams.  Let’s limit the discussion to only successful ones.  One type of leader might be the player who talks to each teammate individually on a daily basis and gains the trust of everyone.  His or her skill, however, must be such that the team respects it and is confident it will bring victory.  The result is the guys don’t want to let their leader down and will put out maximum effort.

Another type of leader is someone who’s the polar opposite of the above, i.e. is extremely quiet, instead allowing his or her actions speak in lieu of verbal direction.  Players see, not just the talent, but the dedication that is rare today.  This dedication, combined with the skills that translate into victories, are enough to make everyone on the team a believer.

Additional leaders are those individuals who fall in between the two categories mentioned above.  There might be a good player who also happens to be a fine communicator, with the combination of the two yielding positive results.  If he or she is the hardest worker on the team, although not necessarily as skilled as many on the squad, may possess a personality that lends to likability, which in turn becomes trust.  The team believes in this teammate and buys into the spoken word as gospel.  Respect translates to maximum effort and the result is what each team desires: synergy.

How effective a leader of a team is usually can be seen in the overall record, i.e. success, of the club.  Any of the above will be deemed successful if the team wins big.  Interestingly enough, it turned out that this year one of the greatest leaders was a guy who many (outside his organization) felt led through intimidation.  Ray Lewis of the Baltimore Ravens has a well-documented history, much of which dealt with violence.  The negative aspect of Lewis’ life occurred long ago and since then, he’s been an inspiration to his teammates through his “pontificating” - especially after practices and before games.  The Ravens won the Super Bowl in the year Lewis announced his retirement, similar to a move to the charismatic Al McGuire.

When questioned about what he thought when Ray Lewis would “go off” during one of his rants sermons, quarterback - and offensive leader - Joe Flacco simply said:

“His speeches come from the heart.  There’s times where he says some stuff and you’re like, ‘Man I don’t know what that meant, but I like how he said it.’ “

Commentators and talking heads remind fans again and again during conference and NCAA tournaments: “This is the most exciting time of the year!”  “Win or go home.”  “Survive and advance.”  “There’s no tomorrow for one of these teams.”  While all of these statements are true for the teams, they also apply for a certain group of individuals on each club.

For every senior, it’s one and done time, meaning lose this one game and your college career is done.  From the guys who are on losing squads that need some kind of monster performance to get into the Big Dance (or at least some post season dance), to those whose teams need another win or two to boost their resume, all the way to the two clubs who’ll battle for the ultimate trophy, eventually, that college uniform comes off for the very last time.

Depending on how much advantage the student-athlete took of the entire college experience, i.e. beyond simply basketball, the conclusion of his (this is written about the male player, but applies to women as well) career can hit pretty hard.  Disregarding that (which shouldn’t be done), what about the basketball part?  The end hits many players unmercifully right between the eyes.

Kindly allow me a personal experience, one that is so inconsequential that . . . it might just stick in your memory.  In high school I was on the naive side - and that’s an understatement.  My high school prepared us as well academically to move on to college as any public high school anywhere.  That is, obviously, a biased statement, based on a miniscule sample size but, nonetheless, true.

It was the last game of the football season of my senior year.  Our team had lost once (during my three-year varsity career, we’d lost only twice) and I was a somewhat typical Highland Park High School football player.  Wait your turn as a soph, letter as a junior, start - both ways - as a senior and carry on the incredible winning tradition that went back to the 1950s.  My graduating year was ‘66.

In our area the tradition was that each team would play the last game of the season on Thanksgiving Day against its biggest rival.  With about 3-4 minutes left in the game, and our guys ahead comfortably 28-0, our coach began substituting.  I simply ran off the field when the sophomore backup came in for me, like I’d done in many other similar games.  It didn’t strike me until my fellow seniors came over to shake my hand and say how much fun it had been playing together.  Then, some of the younger guys - who’d looked up to me just as I looked up to the upperclassmen when I was a soph - congratulated me.  Finally, a couple assistant coaches came over and told me how much they’d appreciated my effort.  Wait a minute.

My high school football career was actually over!  I couldn’t believe there wouldn’t be any more hard work, camaraderie, games, winning and fun.  Recruiting was different in those days.  As dense as I must sound, I never understood why those college football assistant coaches were calling me.  First of all, it wasn’t like it was a regular occurrence.  As far as how many stars I was rated, well, suffice to say I was a household name.  In my house.  Yet, recruiting then was so different.  I made a recruiting trip with our big tackle (6′5″, 255, built like Adonis) to Albright College one weekend.  Naivete struck again on the trip as I couldn’t figure out why the head coach spent so much time with him on the visit while I just hung around with the players.  Among my other choices were Bates, Lebanon Valley and my eventual choice, Upsala.  Since our tackle, as I, had eliminated Albright, he had to choose between Penn State (their assistant, Joe Paterno, was taking over as head coach the following season) and West Point (who was a power at that time).  He wanted Penn State.  His father wanted West Point.  What a terrific plebe he made the following year.

The reason for this stroll down memory lane is usually this identical feeling happens to every kid who plays.  When I entered the world of intercollegiate basketball, the stakes were higher.  Many a student-athlete would come up to me at some time following his final game and, for those who weren’t getting drafted, ask my opinion as to whether they should try to continue playing hoops.  I would give every one of them the exact same bit of advice:

“As long as you can make a living playing a game” (which does NOT include local ball at $50/game), “do it.  Do it until you get it out of your system.  And you won’t need anyone to tell you exactly when that time is.”

As a post script, my time to give it up came right before practice one day near the end of my sophomore year in college.  For starters, our coach was the polar opposite of my high school coach - whom I idolized.  I was pulling up my socks and it just hit me: “I can’t stand this anymore.”  If somehow, you can take my personal, small-time story and connect it to the topic of this blog, I succeeded in getting my point across.  If not, come back tomorrow.  I’ll be back to “normal.”

Survey after survey claimed fans wanted instant replay.  Now, I’m not so sure it’s such a good idea.  Granted, more incorrect calls are being overturned (yeah, I know, every now and then, a correct call will be overturned), but at what cost?  Flow and momentum are two vital pieces in football and basketball.

With every stoppage of play, the flow of the game is interrupted.  I’ve heard some people say the answer is to put a clock on the referees for their decision, but that’s counterintuitive to the purpose of instant replay.  It appears to the viewer that the referees want to make absolutely certain they get the call right - which, with instant replay, they ought to.  In the past, if an official kicked a call, announcers, coaches (after a brief cooling off period - briefer for the winning coach), fans (and even refs themselves) would say, “Hey, they’re (we’re) only human.”

Therein lies the problem.  Instant replay takes out the human element.  Now the officials are expected to get the call right.  If they miss one, there’s always the complaint - “why didn’t you check the monitor?”  Unlike football with coaches’ challenges, in basketball referees stop the action, on their own, to check, for example, whether a shot was a two or a three.  Unless it’s the last two minutes, can’t the extra ref sitting at the scorer’s table look at the monitor and determine whether the call was correct before the next dead ball?  Coaches would be pleading with the alternate ref rather than one of the three working the game.  Then, if the call was correct, the game continues and no one’s the wiser.  If incorrect, then announce to the crowd (as well as separately inform a representative of each team) that the shot was whatever it was, and that the score is being corrected.  The reason someone from each team must be told is, believe it or not, coaches and players occasionally get so wrapped up in the game, they fail to hear a PA announcement, no matter how loud.

I saw a game a few days ago in which the referee who was supposed to make the call stop the game because he was unsure whether the shot was a two or three.  The delay lasted entirely too long and when they showed the best angle, it could only have been known for sure if the camera zoomed as close to the court as possible.  As it was, play was continued, with the opposite call that I, and the announcers, thought was as it should have been. In that case, the old method of having the referee make the call and, then, commenting on how he missed it!

Now, irrefutable evidence comes into play.  There are so many times, especially in football, where the call that was made on the field was upheld because of lack of irrefutable evidence.  Yet, had the opposite call been made, it also would have been upheld.  How can that be?  Irrefutable evidence has to be irrefutable.  It sounds just like “beyond a reasonable doubt.”  There’s an idea.  Maybe we should have juries determine calls during games.

Interrupting flow is annoying, especially to coaches and basketball purists because the game (at least, a well-played one) has such a beautiful, natural rhythm to it.  But, interrupting momentum is, or ought to be, a sin.  Anyone who has taken in a game in which one team is way ahead and the other team comes storming back, scoring and getting stops, independent of the winning team changing strategies, substituting, calling time out, whatever! understands momentum.  It’s something people in the arena, watching on TV or listening on radio can feel.  Stopping a game at such a point is nothing short of ruining it.  There are many other examples of momentum that are more subtle but, nevertheless, stopping it is a major advantage to one team while being disadvantageous to its opponent.  In football, stopping play in a game played in inclement weather is infuriating to coaches and players (and the fans who are freezing their butts off waiting for action to resume).  In basketball, it’s during the mini-runs that can break a game open.  Too many times this is occurring in today’s games although good referees are aware of these instances and are hesitant to stop the action, unless absolutely necessary.

The bigger problem, though, is the seemingly interminable delay in games.  As awkwardly as it sounds, the problem is:

“The replay may happen at the instant but not for an instant.” 

If someone’s interested in deep, thoughtful and knowledgeable insight about what’s happening in the world of sports, talk radio is about the best source going.  If you’re driving.  Alone.

I admit it’s more than mildly entertaining when people from all over the country call in and speak so passionately about the things and people they love or hate, but don’t really know at all.  Occasionally, shows get out of hand but, I imagine, that’s not exactly a negative in the world of all sports, all the time.

One topic I heard debated (actually, it wasn’t exactly a debate because the host just pontificated, only mentioning his friend’s agreement) on my 2 1/2 hour return trip from Monterey was the host of the show talking to a friend of his (another sports jock) and how they both felt the NCAA tournament is making the regular season in college basketball irrelevant.  That all that matters is where teams are at the end of the season.  Teams load up their schedule early with cupcakes in an attempt to win big and stay healthy so, come March, they’ll be running on all cylinders.  He was even ranting that teams like Gonzaga and Butler and VCU will be seeded high when other schools have been playing bigger, better competition all season.  Shouldn’t what teams did in the entire season matter just as much? he exclaimed.

It is pretty much the same argument the BCS has been using against having a football playoff.  When I mentioned this observation to a friend of mine, he told me he listens to the same show during football season when he travels and the host is one of the biggest proponents for a playoff!  Why?  My buddy said he states how the teams should battle in a one-and-done format to see which team comes out on top.  That, that team should be declared the winner.

It reminded me of the saying some politicians employ:

“He’ll stand for whatever you’ll fall for.”

After spending all that time in the car with my sports-talk listening wife last weekend (when “the 50s on 5″ wasn’t on- I mean, we are baby boomers), I can’t help but compose another blog about the guys who spew sports knowledge over the air.  Maybe I’m sensitive because I’ve done that job before.  Not for a living, more as a substitute for a friend, or as a post game call-in host.

My first experience was in 1971 when I was a grad assistant at Vermont.  It was the first time I’d ever hosted a sports talk show, substituting for a friend of mine who did it everyday, three hours a day, six days a week.  Occasionally, he took an R&R day and this was one of those days.  What I did is what I’m not hearing now on sports talk and that is being prepared to comment about what is going on in the sports world.  Sure, I was only filling in for a night and these guys are doing it for a living but you owe your boss and your listeners a 100% effort.  When I went on the air (for a three hour segment), I had enough “filler”, i.e. interesting sports information, to put on a compelling show if no one called.

Instead, today’s guys seem to possess one essential characteristic: they’re all highly opinionated.  They bluff their way through shows, often repeating phrases they’ve heard from coaches and players to make themselves sound educated.  One I caught was: “”Having a running game in the NBA is great but in the playoffs, teams make you play half-court.”  Yet I’ve never heard one of those talking heads (not counting former coaches or players, of course) explain to a listening audience how, exactly, that’s accomplished.  Another that’s in vogue is, “one change that could be a major factor in the football team’s success is the change from the 4-3 to the 3-4 defense.”  Other than the obvious (assuming it is obvious), never have I had described to me what the difference in coverage is and why, after all these years of 4-3, is 3-4 the “right” move now.

The one I like best is the low-risk, high-reward prediction of “I know they’re huge underdogs but I have a good feeling today.“  This bold statement is usually made by the sports guy on the station for the local underdog, trying to create an upbeat atmosphere.  It’s also a ploy for a big, national contest where one guy sticks his neck out and goes contrary to the rest of his colleagues.  If the guy is right, he gets to bask in his own prognosticating brilliance, as well as remind everyone in the listening audience that his “gut” just told him something.  If he’s wrong (it’s mainly a “he” game now, but women will be settling into those seats soon enough), hey, it was just a “feeling.”  Or, simply never bring it up again.

This on-air “knowledge” isn’t really new.  I can remember how you’d hear about the wisdom of pinch hitting righties against lefthanders and vice versa.  Back then, though, the guys in the booths were actually told that by the coaches and players.  They actually could explain about higher percentages of success.  Then people like Tony LaRussa, Jim Leyland and Billy Beane started doing things their way - and they weren’t about to tell anybody why.

Back to my first sub role on a radio talk show.  As stated, I had all kinds of tidbits to keep people entertained and informed.  Then, I got my fist call.  It was about race car driving, the subject that would rival “mating rituals of the yak” as the topic I know least about.  I had to admit this to the caller, only to have the next two callers ask about the same subject.  My response was, “Of all the subjects you callers could ask, you bring up race car driving.  I don’t even know how to drive a car with a stick shift!”

The moral of the story is:

“Stick to talking about what you know.”