Those Guys Have All the Fun - James Andrew Miller [124]
MIKE McQUADE:
So now, Keith decides, “I’m going to say the name of the show a hundred times.” So he would say going into break, “Of course you’re watching SportsCenter,” or, “You are immersed in SportsCenter,” or, “This is SportsCenter.” He must have said “This is SportsCenter” four or five times per show for the next couple of weeks. I think at some point someone in marketing must have heard that and that’s how it ended up becoming “This Is SportsCenter.”
JOHN WALSH:
And it turned out to be the biggest ad campaign in the history of cable television.
KEITH OLBERMANN:
The Walsh Madness is accurate, but it had nothing to do with “the big show.” Dan had been away for several weeks—I think vacation plus NBA Finals. Whenever he ventured away, he’d come back spunky. By his own admission he was just so happy to share our fun again that he’d overdo the silliness.
For some reason, this one time, this enraged John. He brought us in to Anderson’s tiny office. I think Steve and I sat. Don’t know about John, but Dan was leaning against a wall. And he swore at us. “You’re Nick and Hick. No, worse than that, you’re goddamned local news!” I got mad but merely jousted with him. Dan was shaken. He thought we were going to be fired. Steve had to call him at home to apologize—and he said something to me in the office the next day. The irony here was that it wasn’t the excess John was criticizing, it was the style, which was about to put the 11:00 p.m. on TV Guide’s list of the top ten shows on the tube.
By the way, both catchphrases—“the big show” and “this is SportsCenter”—worked, and both made them millions.
There were two natural antagonists at the heart of the conflict who would never be able to peacefully coexist: Olbermann, representing talent, versus John A. Walsh, who personified management. It seemed likely there’d be calm in the Middle East before Walsh and Olbermann would be lighting each other’s cigars.
DAN PATRICK:
It was all about who had control. We may have taken the seatbelts off a little bit, but they said, “We’re locking the car. You’re not getting out.” It was their way of saying, “We don’t care who you are, what you’ve done, how popular you are, or the feedback you’re getting, we still control you.” They figured, if we let them get away with things, then everybody else is going to want to do the same. Precedent setting is a big issue at ESPN. They’re very concerned about that.
They never paid us much, just so you know. I don’t think they liked making stars out of us. As Keith and I were told one time, “We don’t need another Berman.” That was a real concern. Chris had established himself as unique and passionate, bold and fun, and I think they were worried that Keith and I were sort of levitating above everybody else.
When Steve Bornstein surveyed his senior staff in early 1992, he saw stability, longevity, and, for the most part, harmony. And that was the bad part. Bornstein didn’t like things to be too easy, and while he wanted things to run smoothly, he didn’t want everyone sitting around the campfire singing “Kumbaya” and roasting marshmallows. Bornstein wanted a burst of energy for his network that he felt only internal friction could create. With encouragement from ever-present consultant Bill Creasy, he hired John Lack. He didn’t hide Lack away, either; he named him executive vice president of Programming and Marketing, putting him in charge of a huge chunk of the company.
To the task at hand, Lack brought impeccable credentials, including being one of the creators of MTV, among the most innovative and influential of all cable networks and one with immense global impact. MTV Music Television arguably changed both music and television forever. Lack identified with the adventurous audience that MTV was born to serve, and this sensibility set him apart from most others