Thursday, March 22, 2007
Packer. Again.
Behind door number 1. A piece from last March, complaining that Billy Packer has been around forever:
Presidents come and go. Popes, Supreme Court justices, U.N. Secretaries General, Federal Reserve Chairmen, NFL Commissioners, even members of the Rolling Stones ("those damn kids," as Packer calls them)—they all rotate with more frequency.
This longevity stands in stark contrast, the piece notes, with the short life-expectancy of announcing teams for other major events:
The Super Bowl is covered by a different announcing crew every year. The BCS title game doesn't appear to be the sole possession of any one announcing team. I literally have no idea which network is carrying the NBA Finals this year, much less who will announce the games. Heck, even the FOX announcers who've been doing the World Series for the last several years are newbies compared to Packer.
The piece behind door number 1 then agonizes over Packer's ubiquity (he's "simply unavoidable") and laments that instead of simply enjoying our Final Four we have to approach it every year "with gritted teeth."
Behind door number 2. A piece from this week, complaining that Billy Packer has been around forever:
You have to admit, it's incredible that Packer has held the lead job ever since the Six Million Dollar Man and the Bionic Woman were America's favorite couple. Back then, college basketball didn't have a shot clock or a 3-point line, coaches carried themselves like drill sergeants and stars stayed in school for four years, rarely dunked and wore tight shorts that would have made Richard Simmons blush.
This longevity stands in stark contrast, the piece notes, with the short life-expectancy of announcing teams for other major events:
Think how many different No. 1 NBA broadcasting teams there have been over that time. Think how many partners Keith Jackson has had. Think how many different pairings have called AFC and NFC championship games, Super Bowls, the ALCS and NLCS, the World Series, even WrestleMania. Packer's contemporaries in the longevity department (Tim McCarver and John Madden) started their careers in the 1980s and never had the same stranglehold on the big games.
The piece behind door number 2 then agonizes over Packer's ubiquity ("he can't be avoided") and laments that instead of simply enjoying our Final Four we have to "grit our teeth" every year.
Conclusion. Uncanny coincidence? Don't be so naïve! Indeed, you're missing the point, one that speaks to a remarkable degree of September 12-level unanimity across all ages, races, classes, education levels, and religions:
Sit any American male under the age of 93 in front of a keyboard and he will, independently and without need for prior example, write this exact same piece.
Key difference between the two. The piece behind door number 2 will, I scientifically estimate, be read by eleventy-gillion more people than was the piece behind door number 1. So many more people, in fact, that the piece behind door number 2 may represent a tipping-point (oh, yes, please) in the never-ending nationwide hoops prayer vigil that seeks blessed relief from Packer's decades of dyspepsia.
So I say: Go, piece behind door number 2. Go and work your wonders. Go to the four corners of the earth. Most importantly, go to West 52nd Street in New York and act as the epiphany, one where decision-makers realize, as if awakening from some horrible trance, "Gee. I guess, if you think about it, there's really no reason to annoy millions of people year after year. Is Raftery still under contract?"
You are on the side of the angels, piece behind door number 2. I bless you and wish you god speed on your journey. ¶ 6:22 AM
Behind door number 1. A piece from last March, complaining that Billy Packer has been around forever:
Presidents come and go. Popes, Supreme Court justices, U.N. Secretaries General, Federal Reserve Chairmen, NFL Commissioners, even members of the Rolling Stones ("those damn kids," as Packer calls them)—they all rotate with more frequency.
This longevity stands in stark contrast, the piece notes, with the short life-expectancy of announcing teams for other major events:
The Super Bowl is covered by a different announcing crew every year. The BCS title game doesn't appear to be the sole possession of any one announcing team. I literally have no idea which network is carrying the NBA Finals this year, much less who will announce the games. Heck, even the FOX announcers who've been doing the World Series for the last several years are newbies compared to Packer.
The piece behind door number 1 then agonizes over Packer's ubiquity (he's "simply unavoidable") and laments that instead of simply enjoying our Final Four we have to approach it every year "with gritted teeth."
Behind door number 2. A piece from this week, complaining that Billy Packer has been around forever:
You have to admit, it's incredible that Packer has held the lead job ever since the Six Million Dollar Man and the Bionic Woman were America's favorite couple. Back then, college basketball didn't have a shot clock or a 3-point line, coaches carried themselves like drill sergeants and stars stayed in school for four years, rarely dunked and wore tight shorts that would have made Richard Simmons blush.
This longevity stands in stark contrast, the piece notes, with the short life-expectancy of announcing teams for other major events:
Think how many different No. 1 NBA broadcasting teams there have been over that time. Think how many partners Keith Jackson has had. Think how many different pairings have called AFC and NFC championship games, Super Bowls, the ALCS and NLCS, the World Series, even WrestleMania. Packer's contemporaries in the longevity department (Tim McCarver and John Madden) started their careers in the 1980s and never had the same stranglehold on the big games.
The piece behind door number 2 then agonizes over Packer's ubiquity ("he can't be avoided") and laments that instead of simply enjoying our Final Four we have to "grit our teeth" every year.
Conclusion. Uncanny coincidence? Don't be so naïve! Indeed, you're missing the point, one that speaks to a remarkable degree of September 12-level unanimity across all ages, races, classes, education levels, and religions:
Sit any American male under the age of 93 in front of a keyboard and he will, independently and without need for prior example, write this exact same piece.
Key difference between the two. The piece behind door number 2 will, I scientifically estimate, be read by eleventy-gillion more people than was the piece behind door number 1. So many more people, in fact, that the piece behind door number 2 may represent a tipping-point (oh, yes, please) in the never-ending nationwide hoops prayer vigil that seeks blessed relief from Packer's decades of dyspepsia.
So I say: Go, piece behind door number 2. Go and work your wonders. Go to the four corners of the earth. Most importantly, go to West 52nd Street in New York and act as the epiphany, one where decision-makers realize, as if awakening from some horrible trance, "Gee. I guess, if you think about it, there's really no reason to annoy millions of people year after year. Is Raftery still under contract?"
You are on the side of the angels, piece behind door number 2. I bless you and wish you god speed on your journey. ¶ 6:22 AM
