The War for Late Night_ When Leno Went Early and Television Went Crazy - Bill Carter [202]
But nothing in that episode came close to the heights of malediction he was now experiencing. The Team Coco troops accused Jay of being a liar, a traitor, and worse. Jay was truly rocked to read a piece in The Wall Street Journal by Joe Queenan—a satire, certainly, but on a level of viciousness Jay simply could not fathom. Queenan compared Leno to Hitler, saying he had made “secret demands for territory” (that is, the 11:35 show) just as Hitler had with the Sudetenland, and that just as Adolf saw himself as the second coming of Frederick Barbarossa, Jay wanted to be seen as the heir to Johnny Carson.
Jay was astonished that this version of events—with him cast as evil genius—got any credence at all. He thought the story could just as easily have played as a feel-good movie of the week, laying out a totally different scenario: A guy in his fifties is told he’s doing a good job but gets fired anyway. Then, six years later, the boss comes back and says, “We were wrong; we’d like to give you your old job back.”
Despite the exaggerated cartoon being presented by Letterman, Kimmel, and others, Jay simply could not believe people actually accepted it as true that he had walked up to NBC, snapped his fingers, and said, “My show failed; I want that show back.” Still, he got e-mails every day from Team Coco supporters making accusations like “It was Conan’s dream and you took it. Just ’cause your show failed.” He wanted to ask them, “What are you talking about? Do you have any idea how business works?”
Did it really make sense to people that he should step aside even when NBC clearly made the call asking him to return? Was it wrong that at fifty-nine he still wanted to work? How different was this, really, from a situation where two actors are up for the same role? Tom Cruise gets it instead of Brad Pitt—should Cruise say, “No, I’m not taking this job because Brad was up for it?”
Jay looked to do repair work where he could. He called Michael Fiorile at the NBC affiliate board and abjectly apologized for failing the stations with his ten o’clock show. Fiorile, who remained a steadfast Jay backer, said, “The affiliates are still supportive, and the fact that the show didn’t play at ten really wasn’t your fault.”
The big concern for Leno—and for NBC—was that Jay would face a backlash of blame as he tried to reestablish himself at 11:35. There would be only a few weeks between the end of the misbegotten ten o’clock show and his return to Tonight. NBC was concerned enough to call in a crisis-management firm, Sitrick and Company, nationally known PR experts specializing in countering bad news. Forbes magazine called its founder, Michael Sitrick, “The Flack for When You’re Under Attack.”
The network was seeking to learn just how much damage had been done, and the best way to mount a response. In this case, the advice did not get too complicated: Jay needed to bring back his loyal fans and he would be fine. That meant keeping to his steady routine of outside stand-up appearances and benefit performances.
Jay himself had some concerns about those, but he had several big houses booked in January—a good way to assess if he would encounter any fallout. One of them was the Borgata Casino in Atlantic City, a 2,500-seat house. When Jay called, offering to back out if the sales were slow, he was told the show had sold out in a day. This seemed to be a good sign.
In one desperate stab at turning things around, NBC put together a promo ad to run during the Olympics that was a direct parody of the famous “It was all a dream” twist in the old CBS show Dallas. Several network executives were utterly appalled at this idea—it seemed unhip, old-fashioned, and horrendously insensitive. What? Now Conan’s term on the show wasn’t supposed to have even existed? Wiser heads prevailed, and the piece was shelved.
Some of those wiser heads remained equally appalled at how personal and ugly the standoff with Conan had become. It seemed cold and crass, especially to some