This guy here, this is the guy

I'm a big fan of the Fire Joe Morgan blog. What a stiff. But his suckiness honestly doesn't bother me because I never watch a non-Red Sox baseball game and therefore I'm rarely put upon by network broadcasters, only when the Sox are in the playoffs or on national TV (I wanted to set Joe Buck and that cretin Tim McCarver on fire in 2004). So the only way Morgan affects my life is when the FJM guys skewer his abilities, and for that alone I hope he never actually is fired. Or, at least, not until after this internet fad passes.

My real Joe Morgan is Joe Theismann, a.k.a. The Loudmouth Joe Theismann. Needless to say I was pleased with last week's decision to replace him in the Monday Night Football booth, because football is something I do watch even if the Patriots aren't playing. (I don't like Ron Jaworski either, but he's not as reprehensible… yet.) MNF has never been much of a big deal to me: too many commercials, too many celebrity interviews, too much Hank Williams, Jr. And every announcer I've ever liked—Boomer Esiason, Dan Fouts, post-scandal Frank Gifford, even Dennis Miller (the broadcast is a giant variety show anyway, so why not do it right?)—has been pushed out. Unless it's a big game, I'm unlikely to tune in just to spend most of the night yelling at the moronic analysts. Who needs that?

Still, I was intrigued last year when ESPN threw Tony Kornheiser in the booth. I'm a fan of him and Michael Wilbon on Pardon the Interruption but I was skeptical. Turns out they stuck him with a dud (Mike Tirico) and a loudmouth (The Loudmouth Joe Theismann) and he essentially sucked right alongside them. Besides, who honestly tunes in to televised sports based on the announcers? I never once watched a game because some dude was calling it.

Today it's too easy to watch whatever game you want and just mute the TV to avoid the nonsense altogether. If you're lucky you can turn on the radio and listen to those guys (always superior) and sync up the broadcasts. Difficult considering broadcast delays, even with DVRs, but it can be worth the hassle.

It's remarkable how much money and effort networks invest in these bozos, and in the seeming importance of maintaining consistency from season to season—as if I'm going to accidentally throw my hat out the window when Stephen Gostkowski scores three points unless John Madden clarifies that it's called a field goal and not a hat trick. These people have no bearing at all on the game itself (except for those pointless/priceless six-second interviews at the end of the half which succeed only in making the losing coach even angrier). They screw up a lot (one of the benefits of instant replay is hearing these guys make a definitive statement like "Oh, he clearly stepped out of bounds there, Jim", seeing on the replay that the player actually managed to stay in bounds and then listening to the dead air of an unacknowledged mistake). They think we repeatedly care that such-and-such-player's dying parents are in the stands. They think we're just as absent-mindedly taking in the action as they are, when instead we're curious about the specific game-oriented things that they aren't discussing (questioning coaches' decisions, recognizing how much or little respect a defense is giving a particular offensive player, wondering if Marty Schottenheimer was told before the game that someone dunked his headset in a bucket of hepatitis C). And half the time they're openly anticipating the moment when they have to plug Survivor or throw it back to the studio for a highlight. It's all a giant clusterfuck that gets in the way of enjoying a game.

The Sports Guy complains about announcers a lot and his assessments are usually on the mark, so I apologize if I accidentally recycled some of his sentiments. Last week—or at least I read it last week—he had some choice words about Billy Packer doing the college hoops tournament. I can't say one way or the other because I haven't really watched any, and the little I have has been at a bar where I couldn't hear anything (yet I still followed the games… somehow??), but he's probably right. And it's not a coincidence that the worst offenders are usually the ones who have been doing it the longest.

So remember, as you watch the Sox (or whomever) over the new and endless baseball season and as you suffer through Don Orsillo's boot-licking fanboy routine and Jerry Remy's cigarette-hack laughter (or the local equivalent): the mute button is your friend. Just have that instant-replay button handy, too, in case they show an old clip of some Redskins quarterback's knee being destroyed while he hollers out in agony. Because he'll never be more coherent or incisive again.