Wanted, Drama

© 9/18/2000

I was watching Monday Night Football (MNF) recently. The Cowboys were playing the Redskins, which is normally a great rivalry. I sat, nonplused by the game. More so, the ceaseless banter of the sportscasters was as incessant as it was unnecessary. Someone at ABC decided that Al Michaels, Dan Fouts, and Dennis Miller would make a good team.

They don't.

While sitting there, playing with the mute button, I was struck by an oddity I never thought I'd think. I did, however, realize why MNF no longer had any character or pizzazz or charm. It desperately needed its missing piece: Howard Cosell.

That groan you just heard was your own. And, I know why you groaned it.

Howard Cosell was a bombastic journalist who was as egotistical as any of the sports deities of today. He was arrogant and, at times, loathsome. Many people today, more than five years after his death in April of 1995, still use the word hate when speaking of (nay, spitting at) Cosell. His self-centered style of reporting, including his "telling it like it is" posturing, put people off to no end. So many times, following a MNF telecast, the talk of the next day wasn't about the game but rather about what Cosell said during the game. Cosell broke rule number one of journalism: never become the story, just report it.

He loved that about himself.

Howard Cosell spoke his mind and, well, never mind what anyone else thought. I remember in 1975 how angry I got when my alma mater, the Arizona State University Sundevils, went undefeated for the season, posting a 12-0 record. They beat number two ranked powerhouse Nebraska 17-14 in the Fiesta Bowl, and were the only unbeaten, major college team in the nation. When the final rankings arrived, the Sundevils were amazingly ranked number two. Cosell's comment: the number two ranking was too high.

Yes, I understand your groan.

Now understand this: all the things that people love to hate about Howard Cosell is precisely why he was such a great sports journalist. Cosell brought to sports what it otherwise lacked: a sense of purpose. Sports contain no essential drama other than the final outcome. Excitement: yes, Drama: no. Cosell managed to take a football game and transport it to another level. He brought drama to an otherwise drama-less event, even if the drama surrounded him.

It made the game more fun to watch.

Something most people don't realize about Cosell: he was an extremely intelligent man. His vocabulary seemed out-of-place at a football game in much the same way the Shakespeare seems out-of-place around the works of Steven King. He was deft with language, handling English the way a knight handled a sword. And he was just as deadly.

Cosell's words left many scratching their head. To be sure, he did this deliberately, expelling words he knew others wouldn't understand. He befuddled one of his broadcast partners, the personable Don Meredith, on so many occasions, it became a running joke on the show. Wisely, Frank Gifford, Cosell's other broadcast partner, chose to stay out of the way of Cosell's verbal assaults.

On one memorable night, sometime in 1975, his halting, nasal voice in fine form, he said this: "The Chicago Bears are playing very indruident football." Indruident? To this day, I have not been able to find the meaning of the word "indruident." I'm not sure I'm even spelling it correctly. For all I know, he made the word up and said it with a sly grin on his face as he thought: "This should keep the bastards guessing." It has, Mr. Cosell. For twenty-five years, I have been guessing. Considering that the Bears were playing a very terrible game, I assume that, if the word is real, it means poor or uninspired. I guess I'll never know.

Cosell covered boxing with the same rigor and veracity that he did football. Here is a gladiator sport that suddenly has language beyond its own scope. Cosell's connection to boxing eventually led to his famous and long-standing friendship with Muhammad Ali. The verbal sparring put on by these two during interviews was legendary. Mostly, though, it was fun. I wonder, though: Did Ali ever fight indruidently?

Cosell didn't just relish controversy, he was awash in it. A wiry man standing over six feet tall, he never backed down from anything. According to his daughter, Jill, he always said, "What's popular isn't always right and what's right isn't always popular, and if people didn't stand up for things, they weren't good for much else." But Cosell was also a very sensitive man and took criticism to heart. His insistence to "tell it like it is" got him in trouble many times. The most memorable was the night in 1983 when, caught up in the excitement of a truly remarkable performace by Washington Redskins wide receiver Alvin Garrett, Cosell called Garrett a "little monkey." Now, Garrett is African American and Cosell was lambasted as a racist for that comment. Being labeled a racist and a bigot hurt him deeply. Everyone who knew Cosell, even his detractors, said that although Cosell was many things, a racist was not one of them. When your enemies attempt to dispel a rumor, then the rumor has no merit. An unfortunate choice of words crippled his career in 1983. If he had said that in the late 1990s, his career would have been crushed. The interesting thing about the whole affair is that Cosell had such an amazing grasp of the English language that his verbal slip is unexplainable except to say that even the most educated can fall to the age-old problem of not thinking before speaking.

Monday Night Football is no longer fun. The game has no drama and, unless there is some excitement from a close, competitive contest, there is no reason to watch. That is why I miss Howard Cosell. Wherever you are, Howard, whether twisting wit with God or verbally chastising the Devil, you should sell the broadcast rights. We could use the drama.

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