One of the more interesting themes from the sports blogosphere during the first two rounds of the NCAA Tournament has been praise for CBS Sports and New York Knicks announcer Gus Johnson.
In the same way that Dick Vitale’s sometimes-unintelligible screaming has made him a college basketball broadcasting icon, Johnson’s wild, passionate, teetering-on-insanity style has brought him many admirers.
CBS apparently disagrees with what seems to be popular sentiment, demoting Johnson from the regional semifinals and finals this year in favor of newcomer James Brown.
Brown, woefully inexperienced as a basketball broadcaster (the extent of his basketball broadcasting experience is essentially sideline reporting for CBS during the network’s NBA coverage in the 1980s), was picked up by CBS last year and automatically became one of the network’s big name personalities. In addition to hosting The NFL Today, Brown has also hosted The Early Show — meaning that CBS suits apparently think enough of him to put him in a non-sports role.
But the real question here is this: is Johnson’s style of play-by-play really appropriate? Is the purpose of the play-by-play man to inform the viewer of what is taking place or to entertain the viewer?
Take, for example, the Ohio State/Xavier game. Did Johnson’s call inform the viewer of anything? Pure excitement may be nice for the fans, but isn’t the job of a play-by-play man to inform the viewer and to engage the analyst?
It was reminiscent of his frothing at the mouth late in last year’s UCLA-Gonzaga regional final and after the Knicks’ David Lee tipped in a buzzer-beater in the second overtime against the Bobcats in December.
Johnson and Dan Bonner would have been better off conserving energy to discuss pertinent stuff such as whether Ohio State’s Greg Oden should have been called for an intentional foul in the final seconds. “
Marv Albert is regarded as one of the greatest play-by-play men of all time. In my history of watching the NBA on television, not once have I ever heard Albert, whose distinctive calls are arguably as big as the plays he describes, scream or lose his voice. He manages to convey his passion for the game of basketball without “frothing at the mouth”.
Dick Enberg, like Albert, manages to convey the feeling that ‘this is a big moment’ without yelling and screaming that “THIS IS A BIG MOMENT!”
All that needs to be said about Vin Scully in this regard can be heard in his call of a Dodgers game in 2004. On the final day of the regular season, Los Angeles won on a walk-off Grand Slam that clinched the NL West. His call was succinct and understated, allowing the game itself to be the source of the excitement. “Wherever it goes, the Dodgers have won.”
Now there is a downside to being understated. One of the all-time worst calls came from the mouth of Al Michaels. In Game 5 of the 2005 NBA Finals, Robert Horry hit a game-winning three-pointer in overtime. Michaels’ call was jumbled, didn’t include what actually happened, and was lacking any enthusiasm whatsoever.
Screaming and yelling cheapens the event. There’s an amateurish aspect to it; the professionals never allow their voices to supersede the action on the field or court. The professionals let the game do the talking, without sounding bored, and without sounding crazy. What would the call have sounded like if Gus Johnson was behind the mike for Magic Johnson’s game winning hook shot in Game 4 of the 1987 NBA Finals? Instead of an understated but still exciting call by Dick Stockton “Magic, the hook shot… scores it with two”, we might have gotten “Here’s Magic… OH! HE GOT IT! TWO SECONDS LEFT!” — or worse, something entirely unintelligible. Would that have made the game more exciting, or the announcer more memorable? And which is more important? Remembering the game? Or remembering the call?
There is an important middle ground in play-by-play, between boredom and insanity. The game is the show, not the men in the booth. And the greatest broadcasters all have one thing in common — you will never hear them screaming to the point where their voices become hoarse, and you will never hear their voices taking over the game. Gus Johnson’s calls may make for exciting television, but they don’t make for good broadcasting.
