Stuart Scott Only Has One Eye
BRISTOL, CONNECTICUT. ESPN brass applied the finishing touches to a radical paradigm shift yesterday afternoon, formally dropping the antiquated “Worldwide Leader In Sports” tag the network has brandished since its infancy in favor of a more modern, viewer-friendly slogan, “ESPN. All Yelling, All the Time.”
Enjoying a ratings windfall since the introduction of emotionally-charged opinion segments such as “Four Downs,” “Fact or Fiction,” and “Pretender or Contender,” in which seemingly infuriated analysts berate, belittle, and even threaten one another in order to win mock arguments; ESPN views the new motto as acceptance of the changing times.
“This is the natural evolution of sports entertainment”, insists ESPN CEO Jim Shapiro. “As a network, we are committed to de-emphasizing traditional programming like breaking news, informative interviews, and in-depth analysis so we can concentrate our core processes on finding new and captivating ways for our multitude of irate analysts to scream at one another.”
ESPN’s newfound commitment to the E in their call letters has been welcomed by long-time viewers, who were growing weary of nightly offerings of dazzling highlights and award winning documentaries.
Regan Hardwick, a pawn shop owner from Denver, Colorado who proudly admits to watching ESPN six hours each day, expressed a sentiment shared by many. “I’ll tell you what man,” Hardwick said, “I kinda’ like it when those guys get real angry with each other and start having at it. It shows they care about their jobs. If I wanted to hear a bunch of uptight dudes bore me to death with facts and stuff, I’d go to church.”
The real benefactors of the reengineering, some would argue, is neither ESPN nor its viewers, but rather the network’s ever increasing army of infuriated analysts. Free from the burdens of research and source verification, ESPN Mark May, Shaun Salisbury, Michael Irvin, John Kruk, Tim Legler and others simply say whatever is on their mind, and the result has been an emotional connection with viewers that the network’s elder statesmen found elusive.
“Guys like Salisbury and Legler, they really know their stuff,” Hardwick explained. “If they didn’t, why would they yell so loud and get so mad when people disagree with them? Dan Patrick and Bob Ley, they get all the awards and all, but how sure can they be about what they’re saying? They never scream or yell or nothing.”
The convictions of the new regime are so convincing, some viewers aren’t always sure where to place their trust. “Sometimes I don’t quite know who’s right,” adds Zach Allen, a forklift operator from Phoenix who lists NBA “Fast Break” as his favorite show. “I wish they’d get one of them noise meters like they got at local NBA games, that way we might know what we’re supposed to think.”
As the new generation of analysts begins to dominate the air time at ESPN, established personalities must make the decision: fade to the background or join the movement.
“Take Trev Alberts,” VP of Programming Cuyler Duncan said, discussing ESPN’s once-stoic, now volatile college football analyst. “He’s a microcosm of the entire network. Trev tried to build a solid foundation of content and character, and it worked for a while, but eventually viewers just stopped responding to him. So he went out and reinvented himself. Now he steadfastly refuses to listen to logic and spouts unfounded opinions and conspiracy theories at every offering, and his popularity has never been higher! In fact, next fall we expect to host a steel-cage match between Trev and Mark May to see who gets Lee Corso’s vacant seat on College Game Day. ”
Proud as he may be of the home grown Alberts, Duncan saves his highest praise for recent addition Stephen A. Smith, ESPN’s caricature of an NBA analyst, who, armed with a hair-trigger temper and hatred for all things living or dead, is the standard bearer for the new wave of ESPN stars.
“Stephen A. is a tremendous role model for aspiring television personalities. Here is a man who never played a minute of big-time basketball and was, at best, a middling journalist. Yet research shows that viewers find him to be infinitely more credible than Greg Anthony, who was an NBA point guard for 12 years! This can clearly be attributed to the fact that Stephen is significantly louder and angrier than Anthony, and, it would follow, much smarter.”
So what does the future hold for ESPN? Shapiro offers some tantalizing morsels still in their embryonic stage, including segments tentatively titled “Shaun Salisbury Pummels a Cowering John Clayton,” and “The Rush Limbaugh – Jim Brown Variety Hour.” But the idea that has everyone at the network buzzing? “Five words,” hints Shapiro, “A Very Lawrence Phillips Christmas.”
Enjoying a ratings windfall since the introduction of emotionally-charged opinion segments such as “Four Downs,” “Fact or Fiction,” and “Pretender or Contender,” in which seemingly infuriated analysts berate, belittle, and even threaten one another in order to win mock arguments; ESPN views the new motto as acceptance of the changing times.
“This is the natural evolution of sports entertainment”, insists ESPN CEO Jim Shapiro. “As a network, we are committed to de-emphasizing traditional programming like breaking news, informative interviews, and in-depth analysis so we can concentrate our core processes on finding new and captivating ways for our multitude of irate analysts to scream at one another.”
ESPN’s newfound commitment to the E in their call letters has been welcomed by long-time viewers, who were growing weary of nightly offerings of dazzling highlights and award winning documentaries.
Regan Hardwick, a pawn shop owner from Denver, Colorado who proudly admits to watching ESPN six hours each day, expressed a sentiment shared by many. “I’ll tell you what man,” Hardwick said, “I kinda’ like it when those guys get real angry with each other and start having at it. It shows they care about their jobs. If I wanted to hear a bunch of uptight dudes bore me to death with facts and stuff, I’d go to church.”
The real benefactors of the reengineering, some would argue, is neither ESPN nor its viewers, but rather the network’s ever increasing army of infuriated analysts. Free from the burdens of research and source verification, ESPN Mark May, Shaun Salisbury, Michael Irvin, John Kruk, Tim Legler and others simply say whatever is on their mind, and the result has been an emotional connection with viewers that the network’s elder statesmen found elusive.
“Guys like Salisbury and Legler, they really know their stuff,” Hardwick explained. “If they didn’t, why would they yell so loud and get so mad when people disagree with them? Dan Patrick and Bob Ley, they get all the awards and all, but how sure can they be about what they’re saying? They never scream or yell or nothing.”
The convictions of the new regime are so convincing, some viewers aren’t always sure where to place their trust. “Sometimes I don’t quite know who’s right,” adds Zach Allen, a forklift operator from Phoenix who lists NBA “Fast Break” as his favorite show. “I wish they’d get one of them noise meters like they got at local NBA games, that way we might know what we’re supposed to think.”
As the new generation of analysts begins to dominate the air time at ESPN, established personalities must make the decision: fade to the background or join the movement.
“Take Trev Alberts,” VP of Programming Cuyler Duncan said, discussing ESPN’s once-stoic, now volatile college football analyst. “He’s a microcosm of the entire network. Trev tried to build a solid foundation of content and character, and it worked for a while, but eventually viewers just stopped responding to him. So he went out and reinvented himself. Now he steadfastly refuses to listen to logic and spouts unfounded opinions and conspiracy theories at every offering, and his popularity has never been higher! In fact, next fall we expect to host a steel-cage match between Trev and Mark May to see who gets Lee Corso’s vacant seat on College Game Day. ”
Proud as he may be of the home grown Alberts, Duncan saves his highest praise for recent addition Stephen A. Smith, ESPN’s caricature of an NBA analyst, who, armed with a hair-trigger temper and hatred for all things living or dead, is the standard bearer for the new wave of ESPN stars.
“Stephen A. is a tremendous role model for aspiring television personalities. Here is a man who never played a minute of big-time basketball and was, at best, a middling journalist. Yet research shows that viewers find him to be infinitely more credible than Greg Anthony, who was an NBA point guard for 12 years! This can clearly be attributed to the fact that Stephen is significantly louder and angrier than Anthony, and, it would follow, much smarter.”
So what does the future hold for ESPN? Shapiro offers some tantalizing morsels still in their embryonic stage, including segments tentatively titled “Shaun Salisbury Pummels a Cowering John Clayton,” and “The Rush Limbaugh – Jim Brown Variety Hour.” But the idea that has everyone at the network buzzing? “Five words,” hints Shapiro, “A Very Lawrence Phillips Christmas.”