The War for Late Night_ When Leno Went Early and Television Went Crazy - Bill Carter [169]
Gaspin explained how important both Conan and Jay were to NBC, and how he wanted everyone to stay.
“What’s your plan?” Rosen asked.
Gaspin played his hand: Jay to 11:35; Conan to 12:05. “We really want to make this work.”
“And how long are we doing this for?” Rosen asked.
“Well, we don’t know. We need to discuss that,” Gaspin said, adding that this was not intended to be a long-term solution. He said he was about to have a conversation with Conan and Jeff.
“I know you are,” Rosen said. “We’ll get back to you.”
Rosen had a client waiting, one he knew was not going to enjoy this news flash. Rosen called Ross and O’Brien to clue them in on what they were about to hear when they got to Jeff Gaspin’s office.
Rosen could hear the dismay in Conan’s simple response: “Oh, boy.”
When Conan OʹBrien walked into Jeff Gaspin’s office at a little after ten a.m. on Thursday, January 7, his face said everything. Marc Graboff saw it and realized at once: Conan knows.
Gaspin was not quite as certain, but anyone could read Conan’s expression and realize something was tearing him up, either direct knowledge or anticipation of knowledge. All at once, as he prepared to deliver this blow, Gaspin sensed he might have played it all wrong. Maybe he should have brought Rosen in early, begged him to keep the information quiet, solicited his help in getting Conan on board. Now it was too late. He had a devastated star in his office about to get hit with the official haymaker.
The NBC executives greeted O’Brien and Ross formally and stiffly—there was no call for a bogus show of warmth. Conan sat across from them, but he looked off vaguely toward the window. He did not meet Gaspin’s eyes. Sitting next to him, Jeff Ross could not bring himself to look Graboff in the eye. He had too much history with Graboff, a guy he had always liked.
Gaspin got right to the point. They faced a crisis with the affiliates. The press tour was around the corner. Something had to be done. So he had come up with this plan: half-hour Jay into a later Tonight Show. “I don’t want to choose between you,” Gaspin said. Once again he referred to his refusal to make a Sophie’s choice out of the situation.
Conan remained calm, totally professional, which impressed both Gaspin and Graboff. Inside he was churning, of course, but part of him was struck by how surreal—farcical almost—the moment felt. Sophie’s choice?
Still keeping his eyes averted, Conan responded, “I completely understand the difficult position you’re in,” but he began to lay out his case. If someone had told you six years ago what he was going to do, and you based all your actions on that promise, and then he turned around and reneged on that promise. . . .
He went through the litany of events that flowed from that initial guarantee of The Tonight Show. He had sacrificed a lot of money. He hadn’t wanted to go to the competition; he’d wanted to be loyal to NBC.
Gaspin offered no challenge; he saw no reason to. He agreed with Conan’s points.
“I get it,” Gaspin said. “It’s not perfect. I’m offering you both half of what you want. You get to come to work every day, same as always. Not Jay, because he’s got a half-hour show now. He’s the one who’s got to change his habit, a habit he’s had for eighteen years. You make the same money you always made. You work with the same people.”
Gaspin never mentioned the word “ratings,” nor did he bring up a point he himself regarded as an advantage for Conan: At 12:05 he wouldn’t have to face the pressure to broaden out. He wouldn’t have to listen to NBC’s endless notes on bookings and all the rest. And Jay would act as a good buffer between the news viewers and Conan. He hoped to have a chance to have that kind of fuller discussion down the road.
Now Gaspin came back to the need to make this change and his desire to do it the right way. “I want to be fair to both of you,” Gaspin said. “This has