Why I drink ... phone calls.

There's way too many psychos out there. In Florida, we had this nutburger who called himself the Sports Commissioner. He was the Ted Kazinsky of sports. He'd drop off his crazy manifestoes, like one that was 3 pages about how the five-ball walk could revolutionize baseball. Seriously. He wasn't scary, but the nuttiness of his ideas spooked me.

Then there is the former sports editor, long since retired, of a nearby paper who calls me every few weeks to bitch about something that paper didn't have in its section. His calls are always fun to take.

Then there's NASCAR Bob, who always calls and asks when the next NASCAR race is on TV. He complained to the higher-ups when I told him to get the NASCAR schedule by buying the paper, so I have to humor him.

 

I love gambler calls.
I answered one day and a guys asks:
"Where is Marshall University?"
"Huntington, WVa."
"Are you sure?"
"Positive"
"Are you sure it isn't in Marshall, N.C.?"
"100 percent positive."
"Damn" (then to someone in the background) "I guess I'll have to pay you."

 

Got a phone call like that once. It was to settle a bet about where a former Eagles running back -- Corey Buckhalter, I think -- played college ball. Guy that called bet his friend $50 that it he went to college on the east coast. He was pretty pissed when I told him Buckhalter went to Nebraska.

 

That happened to me. I got an email from a girls basketball player whose last name I botched. I haven't made that mistake again.

 

Mine was as part-time desk jockey for the San Diego U-T. Some guy calls asking if Ken Caminiti (this was during his first tour in Houston) played high school ball in the SD area. I looked in the Astros media guide and, while it didn't mention his high school, it said he was born and grew up in Hanford and played college ball at San Jose State. That and the fact I asked two co-workers who had been covering preps in SD County for years, and they said they never remember Caminiti playing in the area, had me telling the caller it was a safe bet he didn't play down there. Caller says OK and hangs up.

Ten minutes later, I get the call from the other guy who obviously made a bet with the first caller and he asked the same question. So I gave him all the evidence I had gathered 15 minutes earlier and he replies "But you don't know for absolute sure he didn't play down here."

Geez, he might as well have been Jim Carrey in "Dumb and Dumber:" "So you're saying there's a chance."

 

We always had two guys calling to settle bets like that. One would call and we would tell him the correct answer. Then the other one would call and we'd tell him the other answer.

Fun times.

 

I once had a guy call with what I thought was some pretty involved trivia to settle for him and a buddy. Keep in mind we are probably 1,000 miles from Kansas.

"Hey, which years did Kansas win basketball championships and who did they beat?"

He was really blown away that I didn't know this off the top of my head and was downright frustrated when I told him I wouldn't ask other people in the office this because I was sure nobody else would know but, if he would call back after deadline (and after I was gone), I would look it up on Wikipedia for him.

On a side note, I was surprised to learn it was only three about a year later when I looked it up.

 

I was working weekend at a Nashville TV station in 1977 or so when a caller wanted me to take him through the names of all 50 states. He and/or his kid were working on a project and they could only come up with 49.

As I recall, it was North Dakota.

 

Oh, callers. Favorite of mine was a dude named John Stephenson. John was a bible-thumping self-promoter with a cable access show and who had once held a statewide office in Kentucky (an office, btw, that was made redundant by moving all of its responsibilities to another office BEFORE John got elected to it - they ended up killing his office after he served his term).

He would call up and say "I'm giving the prayer invocation at [enter local church group gathering here]. Do you want to do a story on it?" Uh, no. There are going to be about 10 people there, max, and nobody else gives a shit, John.

Or "I'm doing a show where the wife and I drive down to the eastern part of the state to visit Blah-Blah farm! I think you should do a story!" Well, we don't John. Fuck off.

Then, he had a third cousin twice removed land as a contestant on one of the first Survivors. "Do you want to talk to me about him?" No. "But I wrote a song about him!"
Big fuckin' deal.

"Uh, John - Could he pick you out of a lineup?"
"Well, I haven't seen him for a long time..."
"Yeah, John, I'll pass that along to the editor, but I wouldn't hold my breath."
"Well, why not?"
"John, I'll pass that along to the editor, but I wouldn't hold my breath."

I still have nightmares that the asshole's on hold, waiting to talk to me.

 

gotta love the endless self-promotion requests. They are the most interesting people in their own little worlds

 

"Like to hear it? Here it go!"

 

Got a call Saturday night (past 10 p.m.) wanting us to cover an event on Sunday at 1 p.m.

I probably didn't start off good with the caller, when my response to us covering it was - and I quote: Not a chance.

He said, "Well, I'm going to tell everybody you didn't want to cover it, and you don't care about our sport. And I'm going to give them your number."

Turns out that he was supposed to be promoting the event. And I roasted his ass.

Called the venue that morning and explained to the owner my position - which was I'm not juggling anybody's schedule on a Sunday for a little more than 12 hours notice. And to let the governing body know this.

After I got a call from the president of the organization, and found out they'd given this goob money to run the tournament, I pretty much got him fired.

With unemployment so high, I really shouldn't be happy that I put a guy out on the street. But if you're going to come at me, you'd better be strapped.