Talk Ranges From Fabulous To Frightening

The tendency was to dismiss sports-talk radio.

Simply, it seemed a forum for the exchange of guy thoughts - like some kind of giant electronic locker room.

“How ‘bout those Cougs?” And “Do you think the Sonics can get past the first round this year?”

But something more has to be at play here. Surveys showed that during portions of last year, some national sports-talk programs were receiving 400 calls an hour from the 509 area code.

Surely, this must be symbolic of soaring unemployment rates, some kind of negative economic indicator that has gone overlooked.

So I dedicated a day to listening - from 6 a.m. to midnight - hoping to unearth the appeal.

In 18 hours, I heard eight hosts of varying skills and styles. And perhaps 100 or so callers displayed a stunning range - many very interesting, most reasonably agreeable, some uninformed but benign, and several in need of serious counseling.

At their best, these shows provided the finest analysis possible with an immediacy we in the newspaper game can’t hope to match.

At their worst, they are far nastier - with a level of vitriol and vulgarity - than I could have imagined.

KTRW started my broadcast day with host Larry Cotlar.

Cotlar was newsy and relevant. But it was early and I only had one ear open.

That all stopped at 7 when the Fabulous Sports Babe came on - screaming, blowing up callers, and welcoming newcomers with a tape of Al Pacino’s breathy “Whoo-ahhhh.”

She’s impatient (detonating her very first caller), cranky and convinced she’s infallible. But she is the beneficiary of the very best guest experts in radio and she has the good sense to step back and allow them to exercise their expertise.

The best interview was of John Jurkovic, the Packers tackle who was savagely clipped by Cowboy tackle Erik Williams.

“What he did was legal,” Jurkovic said. “But it was done with one purpose only, to bring me down.”

Because of the guests, it was the best show of the day, never slowing for a moment.

My only problem was The Babe’s appearance in commercials at points during the show. (Her credibility was scant in those ads for exercise equipment, but I’ll bow to her expertise in those Blimpie’s endorsements.)

Local programming brought us Paul Seebeck at 11. Seebeck’s interviewing is less of a strength than his impressive hustle to get good guests in the first place.

To his credit, he was astute in lauding Bobby Brett’s organization for its ability to create and market sports entertainment in this town - contrary to a caller’s opinion.

And although he sometimes waits until a misguided caller has disconnected to put him in his place, he manages the phones well enough.

However, he outrageously blamed a lack of fan support in the sold-out Spokane Arena for Washington State’s basketball loss to UCLA. He may be right, but only in the regard that none of them came onto the floor to block Toby Bailey’s 3-point shot, or helped out by doubling down on J.R. Henderson.

The surprise of Seebeck’s show was the strong swell of criticism for WSU basketball coach Kevin Eastman.

One caller suggested that Eastman had taken the best team in Cougar history (?) and reduced it to rubble. Another disliked Eastman’s benching of Donminic Ellison for academic reasons, saying that he didn’t care what kind of grades he got, he wanted the team to win.

Fact is, as Seebeck pointed out, Eastman lost his best player to injury and is trying to send to his team the laudable message that academics will receive more than lip service.

This is where the danger to these shows arise.

One vindictive caller with a petty grievance, narrow vision and no credentials other than his ability to dial a phone can incite another like him, and soon a critical mass of stupidity can develop.

Here on Planet Earth, such severe criticism of Eastman, only in his second season, is premature.

Next came Papa Joe Chevalier, quick on his feet, clever, patient with his callers, consistent in his stances and politically somewhere out there to the right of Genghis Khan.

Unions have been the downfall of professional sports, he contends, and don’t even get him started on women’s sports and Title IX.

But Papa Joe has found a place for himself other than simply being sports’ Limbaugh - and that’s as an advocate for the fan.

By starting his Million Fan March, Chevalier has developed a platform that gives voice to the rights of the fans. This, from any political perspective, is a worthy endeavor.

At 5 p.m., Arnie Spanier started yelling. He didn’t stop until he was off the air, and throughout, I had a very real notion that he was spitting all over the microphone.

At 7, I had an option, Scott Ferrall on KTRW or Dennis Patchin on KXLY. I tried Ferrall first, and found that this man is broadcasting at a frequency that I must not receive clearly.

Screaming with a tortured voice, Ferrall sounds as if he’d just downed a couple peanut-butter-and-razorblade sandwiches. His bilious screed is geared to Generation XXX. Profane and violent, he once suggested that a caller “hocker” on his girlfriend.

If nothing else, his show is proof that the FCC has closed up shop.

Patchin, in contrast, was the most normal person I heard all day. No shouts, no sound effects, just spirited discussions of sporting topics with good guests and reasonable callers. As an added benefit, he speaks English - no slavering, stammering or violent crimes against the laws of grammar.

John Renshaw was the last host of the night, and although I’ve found him as vile as Ferrall in the past, he was on good behavior this time.

Beyond that, the man is encyclopedic, with the best knowledge of sports minutia on the radio.

He nonetheless continues a distressing habit of equating levels of athletic success to degrees of male sexual arousal.

At that end, I was in a radio daze: exhausted and irritable - as anyone might after 18 hours of screaming, swearing and explosions.

And the conclusions are vague.

It seems that this stands as sort of a lonely-hearts club for the sports-addicted.

A place where the intoxicating option exists: with only a phone and some patience, anyone can get on the air and express his expert opinion.

His wife may not listen. His barber tunes him out. But Seebeck is there with an open line every day from 11 to 1.

It’s an opportunity for a guy to brag to his fellow barstool jockeys the next day: “I was on the Sports Babe show yesterday. Yeah, I was good … she didn’t blow me up.”

Whoo-ahhhhh.

, DataTimes