9301020172
DETROIT FREE PRESS
930111
Monday, January 11, 1993
METRO FINAL
1D
MITCH ALBOM
Copyright (c) 1993, Detroit Free Press
TV: THE NEXT-WORST THING TO BEING THERE
And now -- after two straight days of TV football -- random thoughts from
my brain:
"Like a rock . . . Mike Ditka, thanks for joining us . . . It's one tough
motor oil! . . . They'll start from their 20 . . . Mike Ditka, thanks for
joining us" . . . "four-wide, three front, two-deep, one back" . . . I was 18,
didn't have a care . . . Mike Ditka, thanks for joining us . . . they have to
respect the run . . . they have to respect the pass . . . Like a rock . . .
they have to respect the special teams . . . Have you driven a Fooorrd . . .
"TOUCHDOWN!" . . . lately?"
Pull over. Who's driving? My brain feels like electronic oatmeal. So
confused, dazzled, disjointed, and overstimulated am I, that I will now do
something I have never done before, and hope to never do again: Admit my boss
was right.
He said, "You should go to a playoff game."
And being the tough, no-nonsense, investigative journalist the world has
come to know, I, of course, replied, "What cities are they in?"
He said, "One's in Pittsburgh."
I said, "Keep going."
He said, "One's in Dallas."
I said, "Keep going."
He said, "One's in San Francisco, but the weather's bad. And the other's
in Miami, where the forecast is for showers."
I said, "Showers? Isn't that what they said before Hurricane Andrew?"
He said, "Well . . ."
And I said, "Boss! I have a great idea! I never watch NFL playoffs on TV.
I'm always there in person. How about a switcheroo? I watch four games on the
tube, and write about the experience?"
And he said, "No expense account?"
I heard this drooling sound.
Yikes! Mike's behind all the mikes!
Soon I was planted before the screen, ready for a weekend of electronic
bombardment. Let's begin with the Pittsburgh- Buffalo game on NBC. I remember
that one distinctly, because it didn't have a Mike Ditka interview.
Other than that, Pittsburgh blew the first half, Buffalo stormed the
second, and now the world has another week to wonder if it's Levvy or Leeevy.
Outside of two turkey sandwiches, it was a wholly unsatisfying experience.
But wait: In Playoff Land, there is always . . . Game 2, on CBS,
Washington and San Francisco. Should be great, right? Also, we had Pat
Summerall on one microphone, and on the other, Master of The Queen's English,
John Madden.
MADDEN: Look at that mud! Now that's football . . . some mud, some dirt,
water, dirt stuff running all over, muddy, dirty, yuck, now that's, I like
that . . ."
Mothers, fear not for your children. They are being well educated here in
the United States.
Madden -- who should definitely switch to decaf -- left me dizzy. I knew
he talked a lot, but he even did analysis on a player's mouthpiece. "Hey," he
yelled, "you gotta get that thing in your mouth!"
Even worse, when you tire of him live -- BOOM! (to quote John Madden) he's
in a commercial.
Still, Madden is nothing compared to Ditka. Did he get enough air time
this weekend, or am I Betty Boop? Here was Iron Mike on CBS one day, in a
"Saturday Night Live" skit that night, and in the NBC studio the next day.
What, no Nickelodeon? During one half hour I saw Ditka in three different
commercials. The question is not what will Mike do without the Bears. The
question is: How did he ever find time to coach them in the first place?
TIME-OUT. Close up. Player pulls clump of sod out of helmet. Madden
offers analysis.
I ate three more sandwiches, two bags of chips, a liter of Coke, and fell
asleep.
Hey, Bob, how would you like a rock?
WAKE UP! To the sounds of the Philly-Dallas pre-game show on CBS. Terry
Bradshaw, doing "Terry Vision;" Randy Cross, who looks like a pit boss in a
Vegas casino; Greg Gumbel, offering an "exclusive" with the Raiders' Al Davis,
who seems to be wearing (rub eyes) a black bathrobe, hair mussed, looking
like Hugh Hefner. Nice Brooklyn accent, too.
GUMBEL: Al, what about Boomer Esiason?DAVIS: We like Boomah, but a lot of
playahs wanna play for da Raidahs.
I ate corned beef. In his honor.
TIME-OUT. Commercial medley: "Like a rock . . . The best never rest! . . .
Alka-Seltzer? You bet it's tough! . . . It keeps going and going . . . Nupe
it! . . . I was 18, didn't have a care . . ."
I like Bob Seger. But if I hear that song one more time, I'm gonna put a
rock through the album.
Oh yeah. Dallas crushed Philly. Miami crushed San Diego. Eight hours of
playoff football; the combined score was Winners 65, Losers 10.
And look! Mike Ditka! He keeps going and . . .
Whoa. My eyes were bleary, my stomach queasy. The last thing I remember
was Dick Enberg saying, "The only way Miller could catch that ball is if it
went through Troy Vincent's head."
And I thought, hmmm. Where's the graphic?
That's it. I surrender. Obviously I had no idea what the TV fan endures,
while I sit in a freezing press box, with only stale hot dogs and being dumped
with a bucket of ice water to worry about. This week, I'll return to that
cushy life, missing planes, sold-out hotels, while you watch Jimmy Connors
tell you he doesn't like body odor. A fair deal?
I won't even ask where they're playing.
COLUMN