GIPPER TRIES TO WIN ONE FOR HIMSELF AT HALF TIME

It was the opportune photo opportunity, an embattled President Ronald Reagan getting five folksy minutes of prime time in front of a predicted 70 million viewers.

There they were on split screen, Reagan and NBC sportscaster Bob Costas--the Gipper and the Bobber--at half time of Friday’s Sunkist Fiesta Bowl in Tempe, Ariz., where Penn State would whip Miami for college football’s national championship.

Dream storyteller. Dream setting. Dream game.

Here was gloss without glasnost , Reagan’s chance to withdraw serenely into the past without Sam Donaldson and other media meanies lobbing embarrassing questions about the Iran arms/ contra scandal.

“In some places, this may have been billed as an interview with President Reagan,” Costas began. “In fact, there’s a time and place for everything, and this is not the time--we don’t have sufficient time--nor is it the proper forum to conduct a true interview. Instead it is a brief chat with our chief executive, and we’re honored to have been asked to do that.”

It was the proper forum, apparently, for the President’s good-old-boyisms.

Is this a hoot? Reagan is not available to White House reporters for questioning about the biggest crisis of his Presidency and perhaps the nation’s biggest since Watergate. But he is available to a sportscaster during a college football game being telecast to an enormous audience, available to Bob Costas but not Chris Wallace.

It was the most profound presidential “chat” since NBC worked a Tom Brokaw/Reagan pairing into its 1986 Super Bowl telecast. Those were less traumatic days for Reagan, though.

Now, the tension was growing. Only days away from prostate surgery and a month from his 76th birthday, would the President be able to withstand a withering grilling from Costas about--ta da!--his earlier career as a radio sports-caster?

Don’t blame Costas, who was merely following the script. As a result, the nation got to hear for the umpteenth time about Reagan the sportscaster. Reagan’s first audition for a broadcasting job?

Glad you asked him, Bob.

Reagan: “He took me in a studio--my first time to ever be in a radio studio--stood me in front of a mike. He said, ‘When the red light goes on, start broadcasting an imaginary game.’ ”

And the red light has been on ever since.

Costas wondered if the President would share his views on keeping college sports “in proper perspective.”

Glad you asked him, Bob.

Reagan: “Well, yes. I think it’s awfully easy to get carried away. . . .”

Was he kidding? Reagan is warning against overinflating the importance of college sports?

He’s doing this on a college football telecast where he--our President--is part of the half time break? He’s doing this during a game that was made possible only by shifting the Sunkist Fiesta Bowl to prime time and raising the booty per team to $2.4 million?

This is not being “carried away?”

In fact, the fiscal stakes of post-season bowls are now such that corporate sponsors have entered the picture. Hence, the former Sugar Bowl is now the USF&G; Sugar Bowl, the former Fiesta Bowl is now the Sunkist Fiesta Bowl, and multiple corporate sponsorships may be on the horizon. Imagine it:

The Sunkist/General Motors/International Business Machines/McDonald’s/Sara Lee/GeneralMills/Stayfree Maxi pads Fiesta Bowl.

“Thank you very much, Mr. President,” Costas said at the end of their five minutes. “The kickoff is coming up shortly to start the third quarter. . . .”

Why was Reagan part of NBC’s half time, anyway? Because his TV shot was mutually beneficial. It couldn’t have hurt NBC’s ratings. And in the view of an Administration under fire, one picture of Reagan was worth a thousand words from TV-blitzing Patrick J. Buchanan, the White House communications director.

Reagan’s was not the night’s only half time photo opportunity, however. The other belonged to Brokaw. He magically appeared beside Costas--with marching bands in the background--and slipped in a two-minute newscast.

It was crass Promote-the-Anchorman time, with the resulting newscast a disturbing clash of pictures and tones.

“Good evening, everyone, the known death toll in that Puerto Rican hotel fire is announced at 95,” Brokaw began. Accompanying videotape showed several men removing a body from the rubble--as the football half time music continued to blast in the background. Grisly footage, marching music.

And self-promotion to beat the band.