MOMENTS, MEMORIES and MADNESS with STEVE CAMERON: If you like my words, wait'll you hear my voice

This COVID-19 pandemic has halted a lot of plans.

Some in my little world, too.

For instance, the boss has been planning to add some podcasts to our menu of offerings here at The Press.

A cool studio was being created out of a room that previously had seen use as, well…

I’m not exactly sure.

That’s executive-level information, and I’m just a guy who has fun conversing with you about various sports.

In any event, I was told that we weren’t too far away from doing some regular podcasts.

And I was thrilled.

No one ever has accused me of being shy, so going back on the air felt pretty exciting.

OUR ONLY foray into the universe of sports broadcasts, at least during my four-plus years with The Press, came in the week prior to Gonzaga’s 2017 Final Four appearance.

Editor Mike Patrick and I taped video chats, in a back-and-forth discussion style, that we planned to run on four consecutive days leading up to the Zags’ semifinal game against South Carolina.

I love gigs like that, so it was great fun.

Plus, hey, we correctly predicted that the Zags would win in the semis, but struggle if they drew North Carolina in a championship matchup.

No, we did NOT manage to predict that Gonzaga would get hosed by the officials in the final — but some things are just up to the basketball gods.

Anyhow, we got pretty good reviews for our almost-impromptu videos.

Readers generally enjoy seeing — or at least hearing — from the journalists whose opinions they digest several times each week.

It’s a format that’s become popular, and it’s worked for quite a while now.

THERE are a few writers who don’t like doing radio, TV and/or podcasts, and generally they need to be dragged into such an intimate connection with their audience.

Some simply consider it a bother, while others are uncomfortable sitting in front of a microphone (and maybe a camera, as well).

Me?

Oh, yeah, get me on the air and — Scottish word coming here — just let me have a “blether.”

That means I pretty much enjoy just yakking away with anyone, and doing it with no fear of a microphone.

I’m particularly fine with talking about sports, because it’s stuck forever in my DNA.

So, this should be no surprise…

I’ve done regular radio talk shows in many of the places I’ve lived and worked: Kansas City, Denver, Flagstaff and Decatur, Ill.

I’ve even done some shows in Europe.

Important note: All of this programming has been listener-driven; in other words, working with open phone lines and taking calls from people with questions, opinions — and sometimes the odd insult.

Furthermore, I can tell you, without reservation…

It’s been a hoot.

ANYONE who’s done live radio — especially if you don’t have a delay with a kill switch — will tell you that just about anything can happen.

Here are a few examples, and we’ll start gently.

But do stick around as things heat up, OK?

We’ll open up with some good clean fun…

I did one show with partner Gib Twyman in Kansas City, and spent two hours on the air with a dead guy on the desk in front of me.

OK, it was an urn full of ashes, but still…

A teeny bit odd.

That one happened because we were friends with the late Frank Bank, who played Lumpy Rutherford on the old “Leave It to Beaver” TV show.

Frank was a hilarious guy, always looking for air time to talk about his beloved UCLA, and on this occasion, he thought it was funny to show up with the ashes of his ex-wife’s dead husband — ashes he’d promised to scatter (illegally) at Graceland.

He did it, too, which gave us fodder for another show.

Gib was brilliant but long-winded, by the way.

Now, friends will tell you I talk a lot (guilty as charged), but Gib spoke in endless speeches, sometimes wandering around verbally until he and our listeners were totally lost.

ONE NIGHT, we managed to land Kansas State’s Hall of Fame football coach Bill Snyder for a phone interview — really a prize because Snyder rarely submitted to such things.

Gib got into a fairly involved question about Snyder’s ultimate goals or something, and he went on and on and…

The “question” turned into speech worthy of being a filibuster, and Gib eventually realized it — but he struggled to pull off a conclusion.

Eventually, Gibber wound it up and said, “Would you agree with that, Coach?”

Snyder had a sense of humor that was generally hidden, but he uncorked it perfectly by replying…

“No.”

We waited for some further explanation after Gib’s monster question, but all we got was dead air.

Gib, bless him, knew how funny Snyder’s one-word answer had been after his own five-minute speech, so he said: “Should I re-phrase that.”

Snyder and I simultaneously shouted: “No, don’t!”

That was a perfect example of something silly and meaningless turning into great radio, at least for a moment or so.

For about a year afterward, listeners would call in and say: “Gib, could you re-phrase that last question?”

Great sport that he was, Gib laughed along with everyone else.

Sometimes, your nonsense just works.

ON THE other side of the spectrum, you might get a caller who is truly upset.

It could even be a pro athlete who’s furious about something.

I recall enduring a particularly slow afternoon in Denver, when a caller phoned in to ask why Tom Neville, who had been the Broncos starting tackle the previous season, had been waived — not just demoted, but cut — at an unusual point during training camp.

I replied that I was in the dark, as well, but that I’d try to get an answer.

Just a couple of minutes later, our producer gave the alert that Neville himself was on the line.

I thought: Great, we’ll find out the answer to our puzzle.

The call was connected, and before I could say a word, Neville hollered: “I’ll tell you what happened. I got f------. The 
Broncos just f------ me, and I hope the whole damn stadium blows up!”

We managed to cut the call at that point, but with no delay, well…

Neville’s view of the issue had seriously scorched the Colorado air.

BELIEVE it or not, that X-rated explosion in Denver wasn’t the biggest shock I’ve gotten while hosting a talk show.

No, the all-timer came courtesy of Mark Tupper, my partner on a Sunday evening talk show in central Illinois — a true character who was also my assistant sports editor at the Decatur Herald & 
Review.

To really get this one, you have to understand that our show occurred while some heated exchanges were taking place between members of the University of Illinois basketball program (just down the road from us), and a couple of Iowa coaches who openly accused Illinois of illegal recruiting.

Real animosity developed between the two schools, and both sets of fans were perpetually angry with each other.

OK, so on this particular Sunday, a caller asked something pretty routine about the Iowa point of view, and Tupper was prepared.

“Never mind about Iowa,” Tupps said on the air. “I’m sick of talking about Iowa basketball — and Iowa in general.”

Then he added…

“It’s a known fact that everyone in Iowa lies down with barnyard animals.”

Hey…

Live radio, folks.

Why don’t we do a call-in show, boss?

Email: scameron@cdapress.com

Steve Cameron’s “Cheap Seats” columns appear in The Press on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. “Moments, Memories and Madness,” his reminiscences from several decades as a sports journalist, runs each Sunday.

Steve also writes Zags Tracker, a commentary on Gonzaga basketball, once per month during the offseason.