Is it only me, or has the TV sport honcho set sent out a memo to their sports commentators scream at the top of their lungs at every effective play executed, even if is not particularly spectacular? The Super Bowl was too much to bear. Any completed play over ten yards received an enthusiastic cheer that in years past might have earned a sincere well done and anything beyond ten yards--especially catches by wide-open receivers had me clutching my ears.
Am I exaggerating? I don't believe so. It's been this way through the entire NFL and NBA season, commentators going Ga-Ga over every frigging play--spectacular or not, and not is usually the case. Not that good plays are unimportant. But a simple back door pass to a cutter for a dunk does not require testing one's lungs to see how loud they can function. Every completed 15-yard pass a wide receiver snares and tiptoes out of bounds with is not the catch heard around the world.
Where is the subtly and dignity of the play-by-play announcer gone, long time passing? Gone to Mad Dog everyone and Stephen A like everyone - with apologies to flowers and the seriousness of Pete Seeger's marvelous antiwar song. But, hey, is anybody out there in TV-sports-land just fed up with Stephen A and Chris "Mad Dog" Russo screaming over each other and other broadcasters who emulate their absolute nonsense. Can anybody understand what in the hell Shaq and Sir Charles are talking about when they're screaming at each other and Kenny is trying to get a point in that might have something to do with basketball and Ernie Johnston is simply looking silently silly.
What's sad is that some very good announcers and color commentators who years ago would never have dreamed of screaming their lungs out for every dinky play are now on board with this Red Bull strategy. If you think I'm wrong, go back even two years and you won't find Chris Collingsworth and Mike Tirico shrieking at each other.
I get it. This is theater of the absurd and sports is strutting on the stage. But I yearn for the savvy and dignity of Chick Hearn and Bill King in the NBA and Pat Summerall, Curt Gowdy & 49er Lon Simmons in the NFL and many more I listened to on radio and television. Even, as far as the talking heads on daily television like the Pat McAfee Show are concerned, I'd take even Howard Cosell over them any day.
So I don't sound like a cranky old man, I'd like to shout out for Malika Anderson host of NBA Today and her color commentator crew: Richard Jefferson, Cheny Okwumke, & Kendrik Perkins for providing a show that is both enthusiastic and informative. I'm a huge fan of Big Perk with his very thick Texas drawl that does not interfere with a marvelous vocabulary and usage of the English language. Malika allows her crew to over-decibel, but brings them down to commentary level before they go too far. Bravo, the four do not carry on in the same histrionics of Stephen A and Mad Dog, And a shout out to Doris Burke, who is very knowledgeable, On occasion, however, Doris does get bitten by the screamer's bug. Come on folks most Dunks are dinks these days and threes are getting to be ho-hum. You can't make them more sensational by screaming them sensational.
ETC
Warriors' news: so far so good, as Jimmy Butler has made life easier for Steph Curry, as Steph's point production has skyrocketed since Jimmy has come on board. It's best, of course, not to get to enthusiastic, but better enthusiasm than depression, which was the state I was in watching poor Steph get double and triple-teamed all over the court.
And what is the deal with the new owners of the Dallas Mavs? They had to sign off on the trade, which is leading to all sorts of conspiracy theories. Even IF Luka was not in shape, this trade of a 25-year-old offensive wizard for a 35-year-old AD with an injury history does NOT make any sense. Will we ever learn the true story?
Coming up soon is the anniversary of Wilt Chamberlain's 100 point game, Here is a poem I wrote about The Dipper.
WILT THE GLOBETROTTER 1958/59
For all the children of the
world
were skyward done above the rim.
Kids in all the countries of the world
cheered the ball when from those heights
the ball dropped in. It was a miracle of flight
those balls and Wilt in uniform of stars and stripes.
And when he landed on the court
it was only for a visit that was short
before he bounded back into the air
of the arena, ball in hand, and waved hello
to the children of the world below: hello, hello!
to have some fun & learn with all my pals
The meadow lark, the Goose and Marques
Haynes who dribbles with his forehead through
the gap between my legs set wide apart.
Then sing for us Sweet Georgia Brown
as we travel from town to town, the clowns
of basketball and joy. Globetrotter of the heart.
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