Those Guys Have All the Fun - James Andrew Miller [80]
Walsh was born in Scranton, Pennsylvania, and grew up above his father’s “store,” a funeral home. Like his twin albino brother, James, he inherited the genetic distinction via the “autosomal recessive” route from carrier parents who themselves showed no outward signs. In boyhood, Walsh developed intense loyalties to certain people, places, and institutions, and it was also where Walsh launched a Zelig-like life beginning in his twelfth year, when he attended Don Larsen’s perfect game at the 1956 World Series between the New York Yankees and the Brooklyn Dodgers. Just eight years later, Walsh was on hand when Philadelphia Phillies pitcher Jim Bunning cranked out another perfect game, the first such National League game in eighty-four years.
When it was time for college, Walsh couldn’t bring himself to leave his cherished hometown, so he attended the University of Scranton. Afterward, he broke away to the University of Missouri for a master’s degree in journalism. His first few big editing jobs were outside the sports world—first at Rolling Stone and then at the Washington Post’s Style section, but in 1980, his passion for sports finally dovetailed with a professional opportunity when he was named editor of Inside Sports magazine. True, the magazine flopped in the early eighties—losing $30 million for his beloved patron, the legendary Katharine Graham—but it established the viability of sports journalism for the literate, civilized, and worldly, not just chest-painting yahoos or compulsive gamblers. Walsh became an expert at distilling the essence of sports, stressing the beauty and poetry and exhilaration that go way beyond scores and rankings and even drug and sex scandals. Even in failure, Walsh’s Inside Sports took the standards of sports print journalism to new heights.
Upon his arrival in Bristol, Walsh instantly won “most unforgettable person I ever met” honors all around. Colleagues learned about his background—his adored nun sister, his friendships with gonzo journalist Hunter S. Thompson and actor Bill Murray, and perhaps most significantly, his strict and deeply rooted Jesuit values. His trademark quirks ranged from wearing “funny” hats to ordering “Heineken keck-tails” to compiling what may be the world’s largest Rolodex (in multiple volumes) to his annual good-natured stints playing Santa, white hair and beard both real, of course.
The big question was, how would a man who had never worked in television, who had to be within six inches of a TV screen even to see it (being legally blind), fit into the world of television? How would the Bristol troops react to this very visible outsider?
JOHN WALSH, Executive Vice President:
When Inside Sports folded and Westinghouse bailed on a regional sports net, I was broke and looking for likely consultantships. This wasn’t anything new, because when I left Rolling Stone, I was in debt. I was out of work four times and in debt three of those four times. I learned firsthand how to scramble for money, and I always had confidence I’d find something. I went to Steve Bornstein, but he said, “We just aren’t ready for you; it’s too early.” Then I went to US News & World Report with Shelby [Coffey], who was then the editor. My days with Shelby were great because it was a terrific learning experience about not being in charge. I had known enough about being in charge, but being one of the second guys is different. Three years later, I went to Bornstein again, and this time he said, “We’re ready; you can do a consultantship with us.”
I began by watching SportsCenter every day. I wanted to know everything about what they were doing—what was on the screen, at