The real superstars on the Clippers are all talk

Frequently, the most entertaining thing about a Clippers game is not the Clippers game. It is the Ralph and Mike Show.

They are Ralph Lawler and Mike Smith, the odd couple of NBA broadcasting. Call them Chit and Chat, Rip and Zip. If you think Corey Maggette is quick, listen carefully, any game, any night, and you’ll get real quickness.

Ralph: “Steve Francis [of the Rockets] was getting paid all those 12 games he sat out.”

Mike: “The Eric Piatkowski plan.”

And later:

Mike: “Dikembe Mutombo [another Rocket] has done great charity work. Built a school with his own money.”

Ralph: “A great man, but not a great catcher of short passes.”

As the Clippers lurch along without injured star Elton Brand and point guard Shaun Livingston -- their record is 7-12 and they have lost eight of their last 10 games -- the TV audience normally melts away. That may be happening, but perhaps not as quickly as it would without pro basketball’s version of the old “Bob and Ray Show.”

They have a growing cult following. It has been suggested that, as the Clippers go bad, viewers should just turn the sound up and the picture to black.

A shot goes up in a recent game. It lodges in the crotch of the rim and backboard.

“First wedgie of the year,” Lawler exclaims, excitedly.

They are as unlikely a pair as you will find, sitting side by side with synchronized microphones.

Lawler is 69, one of the deans of league broadcasters. He is in his 29th year with the Clippers and has done more than 2,000 games. He is a Democrat, a Catholic and a former passable player at Peoria Central High in Illinois.

Smith is 42, still a relative newcomer at the NBA broadcast table. He is in his ninth year as a Clippers broadcaster and his sixth year as Lawler’s sidekick. He is a Republican, a Mormon and a former star player at Brigham Young who played three years in the NBA, including time served with the Clippers.

Lawler has seven grandchildren. Smith is the father of eight children, plus twins due any day.

Their age difference and frequent exchange of sarcasm has reminded some of the old “All in the Family” TV show, with aging father Archie Bunker and wisecracking son-in-law Meathead. When asked if he is Archie and Smith is Meathead, Lawler doesn’t even blink.

“I wouldn’t call him Meathead,” he says.

It all began in the late ‘90s, when Smith was doing commentary for BYU basketball and Lawler was looking for another person for the Clippers broadcast team. Lawler was in Salt Lake City for a Clippers game, and the night before, turned on the TV in his hotel room, heard Smith and thought he had potential.

“He thought I’d be a good play-by-play guy,” Smith says, “so he called me up and told me that. Said he’d like me to try it.”

They were neighbors in Orange County, so Lawler invited Smith over. He put on a videotape of a game, turned on the recorder and told Smith to have a go.

“He left the room so I wouldn’t be uptight,” Smith says. “So I start out. [Almost whispering] ‘Michael Finley has the ball. He is dribbling right. . . . ‘

“Ralph comes right in from the other room and says, ‘That’s great, but now, 25 times more volume.’

“So I try again. [A little louder]. ‘Michael Finley has the ball. He is dribbling right. . . . ‘

“Ralph comes in again. ‘That’s great, but now 100 times more energy, 100 times more enthusiasm.’ ”

And so it began. And when Bill Walton left five years ago as Lawler’s TV sidekick, Smith moved into his spot and, over the years, the NBA’s Bickersons have flourished.

They are the Lip and the Quip, and it varies from night to night as to who is who.

Mike: “See that. The Rockets can move the ball with three passes faster than the Clippers can run to defend it.”

Ralph: “Mike Smith just called the Clippers slow.”

Late in a recent Clippers’ loss to the Nuggets, Mike gushed a perky analysis of a play and Ralph ripped him for the happy talk. That’s why they hired me, Mike said, adding:

“I’m a glass half-full guy.”

Ralph: “You’re half full of something, but it isn’t water.”

Lawler lives in La Quinta now and keeps an apartment in the city. Smith still lives in Orange County. They used to carpool to games.

“For a while, it was fine,” Smith says. “We’d have a lot of time to talk, to prepare. And then, one night, I was saying something and Ralph says, ‘Stop. No more talking. We’re using up all our good stuff in the car.’ So, after that, we just rode in silence.”

Lawler says he started loosening up when he worked with Walton, who taught him that it should be fun for the viewers. He also got encouragement from Marge Hearn, wife of the Lakers’ announcing legend, the late Chick Hearn.

“We were sitting around in the old Forum Club,” Lawler says, “and Marge sat down, looked at me and said, ‘You’re funny. Let that sense of humor come through on the air.’ ”

Smith says Lawler is the idea man, the person who is continually coming up with things to improve the broadcasts. “We have broadcast meetings and I just sit and listen,” Smith says. “Nobody respects the craft or the game more than Ralph.”

Nor has anybody gotten away with a better line without a complaint from the FCC than Lawler did a few years ago in New York. Smith tells the story.

“We are getting bombarded by the Knicks’ Stephon Marbury. He is making shots from all over the court,” he says. “We are going nuts. The guy can’t miss. Right before the end of the half, he launches one from near half court and it goes in. I’m trying to describe it and I say that he was right on the half-court Madison Square Garden MSG logo when he let loose.

“I say, ‘He was where the G-spot is.’ ”

“And Ralph says, ‘I’ve been trying to find that for years.’ ”

Today at 4:30, the Clippers play at New Jersey. Tune in. You might even want to watch the game.

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Bill Dwyre can be reached at bill.dwyre@latimes.com. For previous columns by Dwyre, go to latimes.com/dwyre.