Adventures in Public Access Cable, or, Forever in Blue Screens!

Earlier this week, I saw this sports talk program on Queens Public Access. You know, this guy seems to know what he’s talking about regarding the NBA draft, but I feel like he’s undermining his points in some way. I can’t quite put my finger on why, though. Maybe it’s just a gut feeling. What do you guys think?

Maybe he didn’t know Rubio would play hardball with Minnesota? I mean, everyone knew there was a chance he’d stay in Europe–or at least hold that over the T-Wolves’ heads. Yeah, that’s gotta be it.

“The Closest Thing to Shangri-La on Earth”

Readers of this site know that I’m a huge fan of The Best Show on WFMU. Last night, host Tom Scharpling welcomed famous comedienne Paul F. Tompkins into the the studio. Mr. Tompkins is a frequent guest, and he always brings The Funny when he makes the trip out to Jersey City.

But even judged against these high standards, last night’s episode was more wonderful than one could possibly imagine. Paul and Tom took a piece of YouTube straw and spun it into Comedy Gold. Nay, Comedy Platinum!

The YouTubery in question: a promo for the 10th Annual Gathering of the Juggalos!

Tom and Paul went through this video piece by insane piece, examining just how moronic/white-trashy/lawsuit-inducing the whole affair is. Ninety seconds of commercial led to a good hour and a half of non-stop hilarity.

I encourage everyone to go listen to the archived show now (if you must skip ahead, The Gathering discussion begins at 1:27). You will not be sorry. Their dissection of the curious etymology of Violent J’s Beach Boys BBQ Blowout Bash Blast is worth the price of admission alone. But there’s oh so much more. Last night, I was pacing my kitchen and punching my fridge in a vain attempt to catch my breath. That’s how hard I was laughing. (And my fridge has had it coming for MONTHS now.)

I won’t go through the video, since Tom and Paul did it so brilliantly already. But here are some things that I was blissfully unaware of until last night:

  • The Insane Clown Posse still exists.
  • Not only does the Insane Clown Posse still exist, but they’ve built themselves into a white trash media empire. Kinda like Jimmy Buffett, but with more barbed wire wrasslin’.
  • This Gathering thing has been going on for ten years. Nirvana didn’t exist for ten years. Black Flag didn’t exist for ten years. The Beatles didn’t even exist for ten years. But this thing has.
  • Rowdy Roddy Piper is apparently a comedian. Or at least he will appear at The Gathering’s Fresh Ass Comedy Tent. My guess is his act involves taunting Hulk Hogan and buffing Gene Okerlund’s bald head with a chamois. Or he just recites lines from They Live.
  • Among its many attractions, The Gathering includes seminars. On what? No idea. Maybe an afternoon of affirmations and punching with Violent Joel Osteen? And are ICP signed up with WebEx? Because I’d love to catch a webcast of that seminar if I can’t go in person.
  • ICP describes itself as “the most hated band in America” with “the most understood fan base”. I think The Grateful Dead might take issue with those statements.

Did that video whet your appetite? If so, check out this 14-minute infomercial on The Gathering of the Juggalos to check out some of the worst things Humanity has to offer. I just hope this video hasn’t been beamed out into space. Because if an advanced alien race sees it, they will lay waste to this planet as soon as they can.

If nothing else, The Gathering of the Juggalos should help law enforcement officials. If they just rounded up everyone who showed up to it, both meth consumption and meth production would be cut in half overnight.

Let Us Now Praise Famous Mike-Men

garykeithron.jpgThere’s an excellent article in last week’s NY Observer about the awesomeness that is the SNY play-by-play team: Gary Cohen, Ron Darling, and Keith Hernandez. Anyone interested in baseball as it is broadcast should read that piece post-haste. And if you want to get into the announcing biz, you might want to listen to the trio to get some pointers, too.

There might be one or two better individual announcers, but Gary, Keith, and Ron are the best broadcasting team in the business. I defy anyone to convince me otherwise. Between the three of them, they know everything you could want to know about the game, and the history of the team they cover. They’re never afraid to call a Met out for doing something stupid. And they’re never less than entertaining, even during a season that’s anything but.

A few years back, I splurged on a Gameday Audio subscription (set me back a whole $15/year) and started listening to out-of-market radio calls. I was absolutely stunned at the rampant homerism and incompetence exhibited by other teams’ announcers.

Guys who didn’t know the rules, or mispronounced players’ names, or got facts wrong they easily could look up on the intertubes. Guys who didn’t seem to watch any baseball except the games they broadcast–and weren’t watching that one too closely either, by the sound of things. Not to mention the sickening rah-rah attitude and willingness to look the other way when it came to the ills of the Hometown Nine.

If you don’t get a chance to listen to different baseball broadcasts, I have some sour news to report: These announcers are everywhere, in every conceivable market–including some where baseball fans are supposed to “know their stuff” and should expect better of their play-by-play guys. Where I didn’t find total hacks, the announcers were just boring. Radio–which is supposed to be the best medium for baseball–is a vast wasteland now.

Then again, you don’t have to stray too far from NY to find terrible announcers. This is where I’d launch into an indictment of YES’s own Michael Kay, but the hysterical fake Twitterer yesmichaelkay does it far better than I ever could. (Here’s a great recent tweet: “Hey fans! The debate over Joba RAGES on. RAGES. Like the debate over evolution and
creationism and the existence of the Loch Ness Monster!
“)

But at least YES has some decent color guys (David Cone, Al Leiter) and at least one guy who can actually call a game (Ken Singleton, who fills in for Kay during his lengthy vacations). And Kay is like Edward R. Murrow compared to the moron who “announces” for the Yankees on the radio: John Sterling, the worst play-by-play guy in America, for any sport, bar none.

It’s not even the idiotic home run calls (THE MELKMAN DELIVERS!). Those might be endearing, or at least excusable, if the man knew how to call a baseball game on the radio. But he doesn’t. Not by a long shot.

There are some very simple rules about describing baseball on the radio that even I know, which seem to escape Mr. Sterling completely (despite being a broadcaster for several millennia). For instance, you don’t have to start talking the exact second the pitcher goes into his windup. Sterling loves to do this, which inevitably results in him pausing a small eternity until the ball is in the catcher’s glove. (“And the pitch is……………………………………………………………….swung on and missed.”). He does something similarly infuriating whenever a ball is hit close to the foul line.

What else do I know about radio that Sterling evidently doesn’t? The audience can’t see what’s happening. You have to describe it to them. Saying WOW, WHAT A CATCH! and not elaborating doesn’t help anyone. Nor does screaming WOW, DID YOU SEE THAT?! because no, of course we didn’t. I’m tempted to say he must be missing a chromosome, but that would be insulting to the chromosome deficient community.

There are three things about Sterling that truly blow me away. The first is: he does play-by-play for the entire game. There isn’t a radio announcer in baseball that calls an entire game. Most trade duties with a partner, one inning on, one inning off. Even Vin Scully doesn’t call an entire game by himself, but John Sterling does. How did that happen?!

The second thing is: He’s an announcer for the Yankees. Not for some small-market team that could use a lovable goofball as their play-by-play guy. He is the radio man for the most successful franchise in the entire sport, one that has a long tradition of great announcers. Mel Allen, Red Barber–even Phil Rizzutto, with all his goofiness, could run rings around John Sterling. I don’t understand why a franchise that bluldgeons you with the weight of its PRIDE and TRADITION and EXCELLENCE would have such a total clown for an announcer. It’s like a Rolls Royce driven by Rip Taylor.

The third thing is: I have never met a Yankee fan who likes him. Some tolerate him because he’s the only way to listen to the Yankees when they’re in the car, or at work. Others try to avoid the subject. Still others hate him as much as I do. But I’ve never met one who could look me in the eye and tell me they like listening to John Sterling call games for their favorite team. That’s something I do constantly: confront total strangers and try to make them confess things to me. I wonder why I can’t make friends?

So Mets fans are definitely spoiled to have the righteous trio of Gary, Keith, and Ron in the booth. We’re not spoiled with much else.