|
5.0 out of 5 stars
Only Wish It Was Longer, July 10 2004
It was the 1970s, and Alan Eisenstock was a young writer on the West Coast when he first discovered himself drawn to a mysterious voice on the radio who mocked Dodger Dogs and bad Coliseum seats and called himself "Superfan" before getting himself thrown off the air.More than 20 years later, Eisenstock is still listening to sports radio, only now he's meeting with various sports jocks, both the success stories and the strugglers. He wants to know just what makes them tick, why they are able to create worlds so involving that people like him can sit and listen for hours while others go further and become "callers." I couldn't put this one down. It's not that Eisenstock plunges into a lot of juicy sports controversies. There's mention of whether Gil Hodges should get into the Baseball Hall of Fame, an atypical outburst by Rick Pitino, and why black athletes excel in certain fields of endeavor more than whites. But all that is secondary to the main focus of this book, which is the people, those that listen, those that call, and those that host. Papa Joe Chevalier in Chicago gets a call from an attractive-sounding woman who wants to wish him a Happy Valentine's Day. Will he take her number? Lee "Hacksaw" Hamilton in San Diego hides behind hideous orange sunglasses, opening up after much prompting only to shut down again abruptly. JT The Brick in San Fran is able to do eight straight hours of live radio with the help of just some creamy pastries, but can he find his car for the ride home? New York's Mike Francesa and Chris "Mad Dog" Russo enjoy their status as sports talk radio's gold standard, enough to almost enjoy being with each other. I had the chance to interview Mike and the Mad Dog a couple of years ago, before reading "Sports Talk," and all I can say is I wish I had done half the job Eisenstock does here. With all of these visits, what you get is a you-are-there second-by-second account of conversational back-and-forth, a sense of how these guys talk when the light isn't on. The results are bluntly hilarious, sometimes rude, and always real. Like this account of his first conversation with Boston's Eddie Andelman: "Why the hell do you want to talk to me?" Boston accent thick as chowder. "Because I think you're the guy who started sports talk radio as we know it today." "Well," Eddie Andelman says, "that's probably true." I only wish there was more context offered, a sense of the history of sports talk beyond Eisenstock's memories of Superfan from way back when. I know there were sports talk shows before then, not of the hours-long variety Eisenstock profiles, but significant enough to be worth mentioning, people like Art Rust Jr. and others. Yet Eisenstock takes his own very individualistic tack on the story, and it works very well. "They are not uneducated thugs who wander into radio stations to disgorge incoherent sports opinions off the tops of their thick heads for four hours at a crack," he writes. "They are intelligent, funny, knowledgeable, prepared, opinionated, passionate, full of energy and warmth, and maybe just a tad wacky. In other words, guys you'd want to hang out with." Thanks to Eisenstock, you do.
Help other customers find the most helpful reviews
Was this review helpful to you?
 
|
|
|
|
