All Day Long, They Ensure Talk Is Cheap

Let’s talk about talk radio.

Practically every major city in North America now has all-sports talk radio, 24 hours a day. I know this because they all call me, 24 hours a day. They call me at 8 a.m., Eastern time. They call me after midnight, Pacific time. Let’s face it, when you talk sports on talk radio 24 hours a day, you get desperate for guests. You’ll take anybody with a larynx.

Sometimes, someone who hasn’t seen me for a while will ask: “Hey, what have you been doing lately?” And I reply: “Oh, KMOX, WFAN, XTRA and CBC.”

I use more letters of the alphabet than they do on Sesame Street.

Even if a radio station isn’t all-sports, it probably is some-sports. One day, after the Lakers won their second playoff game from the Phoenix Suns, I got calls from 13 radio shows . . . in four towns. Four from Phoenix, four from Los Angeles, three from Chicago and two from Sacramento. Why’d they call me? Couldn’t find any Lakers or Suns, I guess.

And, like so many men, I’m cheap and I’m available.

What did I talk about on talk radio? Oh, about 10 minutes. One night at an outdoor pay phone in a rainstorm in Augusta, Ga., I was put on hold by a radio station in either Santa Barbara or Bakersfield, I forget, for another 10 minutes because a basketball game they were broadcasting on the Lakers’ radio network had gone into overtime. At least I got to listen to Chick Hearn instead of that usual put-on-hold music--”Raindrops Keep Fallin’ on My Head,” as sung by the Carpenters.

That’s another problem with being a guest. Pay phones.

Sometimes I have to excuse myself from a dinner table to go call some show. At many of our finer restaurants, the pay phone is inside or next to the restroom. And while this affords maximum privacy, I hate to tell you how many times my unsuspecting listeners out there in Radioland heard my interview interrupted by the unmistakable sound of a toilet flushing.

Many found this symbolically appropriate.

Talk radio can be challenging. Occasionally, a host will ask, on the air: “How about if we take some calls from our callers?” And occasionally, I consider saying: “Nah, let’s not.” But invariably, I say sure, OK, why not, whereupon the host will say: “And now let’s go out to ‘Mad Dog’ in Riverside. Hi, Mad Dog. Do you have a question for Mike?” After which Mad Dog will say: “Yeah, I got a question for Mike. How did he get to be such a slime ball?”

This brings me to my first and foremost question about talk-radio shows and their callers.

How come they never have to identify themselves?

They know who we are. Why can’t we know who they are? How come they get to be Annie From Anaheim or Kookie From Cucamonga or Jane From Tarzana? I notice how brave and outspoken some of these callers are. Let’s see how brave and outspoken they are when we know their last names and where they work.

Caller: “Hi, my name is Fred and I think Mike Tyson is a wimp.”

Host: “What’s your last name and address there, Fred?”

Caller: “Uh, I forget.”

Click.

Another thing that makes me crazy listening to talk shows is the way callers get put on hold forever. “Our phone lines are all lit up” is what the host is telling us, and either he is lying through his teeth or some poor soul named Bruce is getting a soggy earlobe because the handset of his telephone has been pressed against it for the past 29 minutes.

Then, when the guy finally gets on the air, he gets cut off because the station has to go to a news break.

Which is another thing: On the hour and half-hour, a sportscaster will race through the day’s breaking news. Then he or she will zip through the previous day’s scores. This person will speak faster than the speed of sound. “Montreal 6 Philadelphia 5 Pittsburgh 4 Cincinnati 3 Colorado 2.” And I’ll sit there thinking: “What the hell is your hurry? I thought this was 24-hour sports radio. Take your time, babe. You’ve got all day.”

Why do they allot sportscasters 60 seconds to do his spot on a sports station that talks all day? Let them do the news until there’s no more news to do.

Oh, I know: The trivia segment.

They have to make time for the trivia segment. Now, I happen to think that Al Michaels is one of the two or three outstanding sportscasters out there, but Al does a syndicated trivia segment that absolutely slays me. I don’t want to say that his trivia question is easy , exactly, but I dare say Al gives away too many, uh, clues.

“He started out as a left-handed pitcher, but later played right field for the New York Yankees. Although he wore No. 3 on his uniform, he was No. 1 in the hearts of baseball fans everywhere, who called him ‘Bambino,’ which was a play on his nickname, although his real name was George Herman Ruth and his name was similar to that of a popular candy bar. Who is this famous Yankee about whom the movie, ‘The Babe Ruth Story,’ was made?”

I called in to answer.

Got put on hold.