Next, Clinton Could Turn to Radio; It’s Either That or Submarine Work

While he was in Russia earlier this week, Bill Clinton took calls from Russians on a talk-radio show. (By the way, what was Clinton doing in Russia? Did he take a wrong turn on his way to Chappaqua?)

Some of the calls were a bit weird, like, “Do you know how to drive a submarine?” Clinton answered simply, “No.” An experienced talk-show host would have had more of an attitude and would have answered the caller this way: “Do I know how to drive a submarine? What are you, on drugs? Get a life, you dope.”

By all accounts, Clinton enjoyed the talk show, despite his inexperience. Which is good. He’s going to be out of work soon--and hosting a talk-radio show is a good job.

I know. I do it. Three hours a day, five days a week.

I do a sports talk show in which losers making $9.80 an hour at a Dry-Clean Depot call up and argue incessantly about how many millions the Redskins ought to pay Deion Sanders.

Sports talk is perfect for Clinton: It’s possible that people who call in to sports talk shows not only don’t know about Clinton and Monica--they might not know Clinton is the president. Unless there has been some mention of that on ESPN.

Here is all you have to say to succeed at sports radio: “OK, the phones are open.”

Hundreds of people will call you and say something like “I want to talk about the Indiana Pacers.”

And you say, “OK.”

And the caller says, “The Pacers rule, man!”

How tough is that?

Clinton is such a big sports fan, he might be inclined to have athletes on his show. This would be a mistake. Athletes, like, have trouble, you know, putting together a coherent, um . . . what was your question again? I cite the story told by Ahmad Rashad of going into the locker room after a winning football game, and asking a player what had happened in the second half that had allowed his team to make up a 14-point deficit and win the game. “We had the mumodem,” the player said.

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Clinton’s best qualification for sports talk is that he has a thick skin. He told his Russian audience, “No one in modern history in our country has had either more negative press or more painful press than I have. There is almost nothing anybody can say to make fun of me.” He’ll need that stoicism, because here is how the typical sports-talk call goes:

Caller: “When Bill Buckner let that ball go through his legs against the Mets in 1986, it broke my heart. I hate Bill Buckner. I think he should be stuffed into a wood chipper.”

Host: “I think that’s a bit harsh. It happened 14 years ago. I think by now you should have gotten over the disappointment and moved on.”

Caller: “What are you, nuts? You’re a freakin’ idiot. You don’t know jack. Who’d you sleep with to get this job? Buckner is a dead man, a dead man!”

The bedrock issues for sports radio are trades and firings. Sports radio exists to move people around. It’s the mass transit of talk radio. Fans call in with trade proposals that are so one-sided they make the folks who sold Manhattan Island for $26 look like shrewd businessmen.

Caller: “I’m a die-hard Knicks fan. I love Patrick Ewing. But the time has come to trade him for Shaquille O’Neal.”

Host: “Mr. Ewing is 38 years old. His body has begun to break down. He has maybe one year left. Mr. O’Neal is 10 years younger and the approximate size of Wyoming. You couldn’t budge him with a bulldozer. With him, the Lakers may win the next five championships. What on earth would make you think the Lakers would, in effect, trade the Hope Diamond for a mood ring?”

Caller: “Well, I think Shaq would like to come to a city where there are more tall buildings; it’s like a vertical thing for Shaq. L.A.’s too spread out. And what’s with you? You don’t like the Knicks? What are you, a Commie? I oughta come up there and punch you out.”

And then, there is the “fire the coach” call. I get these every day.

Caller: “The coach of the [name of team that has lost at least one game in a row] has to go. My hamster can coach better than he can.”

Host: “Don’t you think you’re being a little harsh?”

Caller: “Are you kidding me? They can’t block. They can’t tackle. They’re not getting any guidance from this idiot. I’m telling you, he’s got to go. Fire him today. He’s a complete loser.”

Host: “And what do you do for a living that makes you so qualified to make this judgment?”

Caller: “I drive a bread truck.”