Following ‘Up Close,’ It’s ESPN SelfCentered

Now that NBC has seen the writing on the wall--XFL DOA, RIP--the network suddenly finds itself in need of some sports programming filler for next spring.

Here’s a suggestion: Invite a bunch of your best-known sportscasters to a noisy sports bar and have them interview each other.

Ahmad Rashad can host the thing. Have him grill Marv Albert for 30 minutes about how he was ever able to perfect his ingenious and magnificent “YES!” call. Have him spend another 30 minutes with Doug Collins without asking a single question about Collins’ new job with the Washington Wizards or about Michael Jordan. Maybe, as a change of pace, you bring in Bob Costas and have him interview himself.

(This almost happened recently, on HBO, when Billy Crystal stopped by Costas’ talk show. Crystal and Costas, side by side, both so in love with baseball and the early 1960s and Crystal’s new movie about baseball in the early 1960s that, for a moment, I thought they were going to leap into each other’s arms, belt out a teary a cappella version of “Talkin’ Baseball” and spontaneously combust from sheer happiness as soon as they reached the part about Willie, Mickey and the Duke.)

ESPN, multimedia pioneer in 24-hour sports programming and self-celebratory coverage, has again shown the industry the way. This week, the network’s venerable “Up Close” interview show turned on itself, scouring the offices of its Bristol, Conn., headquarters far and wide for, well, minutes to bring in a guest list from all corners of the company cafeteria.

Dick Vitale on Monday, Stuart Scott on Tuesday, followed by Mike Tirico, Dan Patrick and Chris Berman. ESPN touted the lineup as a “special edition” of “Up Close--Behind the Scenes.”

Closer to the truth, it should have been billed, “Gary Miller Wanted a Week Off and So Did Our Booking Staff.”

Remember the planning-meeting scene in “The Player,” where cynical movie executives sit around the table trying to scheme a way to streamline their operation by eliminating such expensive nonessentials as script writers? ESPN has taken that baton and run a mile with it, devising the most cost-efficient way ever to produce 30 minutes of talk show programming--no guests, no host, no studio set required.

Who needs the hassle of dealing with troublesome agents to line up a big-name coach or athlete when you can just scrawl on the office master schedule, “Tirico: Wednesday, in the comfy chair”?

Who needs to hire a host capable of asking controversial, or even pertinent, questions, when you can just fire off an interoffice e-mail and line up Grinnin’ Nick Bakay, also known as the host of ESPN Classic’s “Reel Classics” sports movie series and the voice of Salem the cat on “Sabrina, The Teenage Witch”?

And why bother with an elaborate studio set when you can commandeer a corner of an ESPNZone restaurant in Anaheim, ply a receptive, cheering audience with potato skins and buffalo wings and turn a half-hour “Q-and-A session” into a 30-minute house advertisement for The Greatness Of The Worldwide Leader in Sports Programming?

Suffice it to say, this is not the ideal setting for penetrating, insightful journalism. Ted Koppel, for instance, rarely interviews world leaders during happy hour. But then, journalism was never a consideration with these programs. The only grilling being done was at the “En Fuego Grill,” given major on-air time during the Patrick interview because, as Bakay happily put it, Patrick “introduced us to the concept of ‘en fuego’ but turned it into the reality of damn good bar food!”

Tough to ask Patrick about the propriety of his filming beer commercials with retired football players when foaming tankards are being served just off-camera. Tougher still to dig into Tirico’s past: “Say, Mike, weren’t you accused of sexual harassment in ’92 and, hey, aren’t the fries here to die for?”

No, this was ESPN’s party, a weeklong self-lovefest served with a side of ranch dressing, and no discouraging word was going to make it past the bouncers. In a rare moment of self-deprecation, Bakay told Berman he considered the old NFL highlight reels narrated by John Facenda to be the “greatest propaganda films ever. Chairman Mao has nothing on these guys.” Aw, that’s just ESPN being humble. No propaganda film has ever surpassed this quintet of “Up Close” genuflections.

“I want to talk ESPN overall with you,” Bakay told Tirico. “We’re sitting here in a restaurant, we’ve watched this brand roll out in endless incarnations. Did you ever think about that when you first hooked in?” No, Tirico said he hadn’t, but just in case, Bakay was there to make sure all the incarnations got mentioned. With Patrick he plugged ESPN radio, “SportsCenter” and Patrick’s column in ESPN the Magazine. With Tirico, ESPN2 got its due. With Berman, Bakay held up an ESPNZone menu and touted the “Baby Back Back Back Ribs.”

The onslaught was relentless. While Bakay lobbed Patrick such marshmallows as “Let’s talk about ‘SportsCenter’--I mean, your work there is very special,” fan e-mail was scrolled across the bottom of the screen:

“You deserve a lot of credit for making ESPN what it is today.”

“Your radio show absolutely makes my day.”

“You’ve made an art form out of wrapping beautiful prose around great moments.”

These were augmented by video clips of ESPN personnel praising other ESPN personnel. During Tirico’s half-hour, we saw a clip of Patrick touting Tirico as one of the best in the business. Later, we heard Vitale confess that “I’m addicted, man! I can’t wait to run and see Patrick and Stuart Scott and all the ‘SportsCenter’ guys! I watch it religiously every day!”

Behind the scenes? “Up Close” never came close.

What’s inside Mike Tirico’s glove compartment? Fortunately, Bakay had that one covered.

Would you believe it: Tirico keeps maps in his glove compartment. Maps, a golf glove and a Sinatra CD.

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Next week on “Up Close”: What is Kenny Mayne’s favorite color?