The War for Late Night_ When Leno Went Early and Television Went Crazy - Bill Carter [213]
They shot it, needing only a couple of takes. It seemed to play perfectly, with both Dave and Jay looking miserable on either side of Oprah.
“Jay, you happy with this?” Dave asked. “You want to do this again?”
“No, looks good to me,” Jay said.
And then the two rivals stood and exchanged another handshake. Dave thanked them both for being so generous to show up and do this for him. He hoped it would have the impact they all expected.
Dave and Jay talked just a bit more, nothing of consequence, two comics shooting the breeze. Then they said their good-byes. Jay was back in Teterboro and on a plane in time to get into LA for a late dinner.
The circle who knew the secret was small and tight at both networks. Still, somehow the same Web site that had gotten wind of the change coming for Jay’s ten p.m. show, FTV Live, posted news of some kind of “secret taping” that had taken place at Letterman’s studio. One of the writers on Jay’s staff approached him at rehearsal with the rumor about the taping. “Why don’t you try to find out more?” Jay said, enjoying the tease.
The night of the game, those in on the secret were barely distracted by the action on the field. They knew the promo was set for the first commercial break in the second quarter. Even Jay, who didn’t give a hoot about sports, was at home glued to the set.
As soon as the spot appeared—Dave, then Oprah, then . . . Jay?—phones began ringing and e-mails began flying. Jay was contacted by e-mail from the White House—David Axelrod, the senior adviser, wanted to know, was that real? He had been watching with the president, and they all had instantly asked themselves: Could that possibly have been real?
So amazed were viewers that hordes on Web sites and chat rooms immediately speculated that Leno had somehow been “green-screened” into the picture. Surely these two guys who had so recently ripped each other with such abandon had not sat down together for a gag promo?
They had indeed—and it delighted Jay Leno. The whole experience had been great fun, but also something else. Jay had been moved by it. For all the competition, the endless ratings measuring out their worths on a weekly basis, Jay had never really stopped holding out hope that he and Dave could one day just get together, be guys again. For Jay, the Super Bowl promo, as elaborate and secret as it had been, really came down to that: He had gotten together with Dave again. And the years, the jokes, and the animosity melted away in an instant.
Jay acknowledged that he may have been naive, but he thought maybe Dave sensed he had gone a little too far. Dave was never going to stop by, say he was sorry, and offer to shake hands; comics didn’t do that. Instead they did this: They appeared together in a bit. This was how you conducted a late-night feud. Jay decided to believe it was Dave offering an olive branch. It didn’t really matter to him whether that was true or not. It felt good to believe it was.
If Letterman had had his way, the bit might have been even better. Before he invited Jay, Dave had had Rob Burnett reach out to one other potential participant: But Conan didn’t get the joke. More precisely, he didn’t find anything funny in the situation. Jeff Ross got the call from Burnett and brought the idea to Conan, by now out of the show and already growing his scraggly red beard.
“So, Burnett called. Dave wants to know if you want to be in a Super Bowl ad with Jay and Dave.” Ross had little doubt what the answer would be.
Conan fired it back instantly. “No fucking way I’m doing that,” Conan said. “It’s not a joke to me—it’s real.”
Conan was sure that NBC—which, according to the release Conan had just signed, held the lock on his TV appearances until May—would have been only too happy to grant a onetime permit for this little foray with Jay. Of course NBC would be all for it, Conan guessed. It could only help rehabilitate Jay in the nation’s eyes: all the late-night warriors,