Highlight Reel From Bill Simmons' Portland Book Signing

Keith Becker uosportsdude.com — Fri, 20 Nov 2009 09:21:02 -0500

Normally, highlight videos are reserved for athletes. Very rarely will you see one for a pudgy 40-year-old, with graying hair and a nasally voice that resembles a cross between Fran Drescher and SpongeBob SquarePants.

But then there’s Bill Simmons, the man who became famous by writing two columns a month relating sports to pop culture and recording an hour-long conversations with his friends three times a week.

When Bill Simmons announced he was coming to Portland as a stop on the tour for the release of his latest book, “The Book of Basketball”, I knew I had to go. There was no question. It’s kinda like if you’re an aspiring comedian who lives in the South and Larry the Cable Guy came to perform in Pine Bluff, Arkansas: you need to go. Plane, train or automobile, it didn’t matter.

Bill Simmons’ rise to unparalleled popularity has had a massive impact on the world of sports media. Mainly, leading several thousand people who think they are funnier than they really are into starting their own comedically-slanted sports blogs. I can admit I am one of those people, although I like to think that I am actually pretty witty and clever.

Fortunately, I was able to convince three buddies to accompany me (read: drive me) and be there for, sadly, one of the most thrilling moments of my life.

I mean, honestly, how often can you have an awkward ten-second conversation with your idol, while three plainclothes body guards at a signing desk are trying to vehemently get rid of you as quickly as possible? Not everyday, that’s for damn sure.

So after driving two hours to Portland, and waiting another two hours in line, I finally got to speak with the man who’s columns have now forced me into spending twice as much time trying to be half as funny as Bill Simmons than studying for my classes. I can only imagine my dad’s head exploding into smoke after reading that sentence, when he pays nearly $3,000 a month for my out-of-state tuition.

More nervous than a Los Angeles Clipper fan during an inevitable fourth quarter breakdown, I managed to sputter out some jumbled jargon about how he was my inspiration and then go on to massively fumble my way through telling him about my website as I threw a uosportsdude.com t-shirt into his lap.

Upon seeing the not-so-clever attempt of imitation in the name of my site, along with an amusing logo of a cariciture of me resting upon the body of a duck, he actually seemed relatively interested in it, and quote said: “I like the shirt and I’ll check out your site.”

I felt like a 12-year-old school girl in 2001 at an N'Sync concert, except I wasn’t holding an “I Love Justin” sign and I didn’t have a pigtail.

Fingers crossed that he actually checks out my site.

With that being said, I promised a highlight video of the signing, and thanks to Tim Brown from the Oregonian , I can deliver. Enjoy!

Here is the link and here is just another funny Bill Simmons video .

The uosportsdude.com

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The Kirk Herbstreit Interview That Never Happened

John P. Wise — Wed, 18 Nov 2009 02:10:55 -0500

The little man paid a visit to the big man in Fort Worth the other day, and the result was a small failure.

I'd been trying to get an interview with any of the GameDay people since the second week of the season, when the crews from both ESPN and One Great Season were in Columbus for the USC-Ohio State game.

And by ESPN crew, I mean about 100 or so people, and by One Great Season crew, I mean all three of us—me, myself, and I.

Anyway, back in September the ESPN PR guy was nice enough to return my emails asking for a few minutes alone with Kirk Herbstreit, Desmond Howard, and/or Chris Fowler, but logistics and schedules just made it difficult and an interview never happened.

The same guy did not return my emails when I reached out during Week Five in Baton Rouge, or in Week Nine in Eugene.

So I went a different route last week a few days before fourth-ranked TCU welcomed the GameDay circus to Fort Worth. Instead of trying that PR guy, I reached out to one of the producers of the show, which, if you subscribe to my Tweets, you know I think is by far the best two hours on television.

Not just because it's all about America's greatest sport, but from technical and production points of view, no show is better.

It took a minute, but the producer did eventually get back to me and said I'd easily be able to get, at the very least, a few minutes with Herbie. He also said he looked forward to hearing about my project. As the independent little guy, this was a small victory for me.

I arrived at 12:15 PM Friday, exactly the time the producer told me to show up, but he wasn't there. Instead, another friendly producer welcomed me into the ESPN compound and introduced me to Herbie, who at the time was in the make-up chair.

As the artist applied the foundation, Herbie asked about my tour and what kinds of things I'd be looking for from him. He seemed genuine and assured me he'd make himself available after a live hit he had coming up shortly on SportsCenter .

I came back out to the newsroom where the producers were working, as was Desmond, who, like me, is a Cleveland native. Desmond was up against a deadline, so I didn't bother him, but still a non-introduction in my opinion creates more awkwardness than any 30-second inconvenience that could arise from meeting someone sitting so close to you in a quiet and small space.

Nonetheless, Desmond made no acknowledgment that there was a new face about six feet across from him; I kept my nose in a magazine.

A short time later, Fowler and Tom Rinaldi arrived. Fowler—who has the best job in television—did the Thursday night game at Rutgers the night before, so that's why he flew in on Friday, and as Rinaldi was arriving he was talking about his recent run in the ING New York City Marathon.

I've always loved Rinaldi's stories, particularly on GameDay . Again, if you read my Tweets, you know I recommend keeping a box of Kleenex nearby whenever Rinaldi turns one of his tales.

I introduced myself to Fowler, and told him my buddies and I had ESPN on speed dial a dozen years ago and we'd call and harass him and other late-night, on-air SportsCenter folks after coming home from the bars.

I'd heard from multiple ESPN friends over the years that Fowler can be a bit of a diva, but I'd say he initially gave me a fair shake with my weak attempt to be friendly.

A short minute later, Lee Corso walked in and eventually sat with a producer who took the veteran's typically stat-heavy dictation.

Around that time, the producer I'd communicated with the previous couple of days had arrived and although we exchanged a friendly hello, his interest in my project seemed to have disappeared after he sent me the email the night before. He made no inquiry about it, nor did he try too hard to facilitate a short visit for me with Herbstreit.

I've been in newsrooms for 15 years and I know all the personality types. I've also read a couple of books and countless columns or articles about ESPN and I think I had a handle on where my place was that day, trying to get some time with some of the most recognized faces in the sport.

My little-engine-that-could web site sat in the basement on the list of priorities in that makeshift newsroom that day, and I fully accepted that and was content to sit quietly, follow instructions, and wait my turn.

Once everyone said hello and enjoyed a few minutes of light-hearted college football talk, it was time to get down to business. The volume that didn't seem to bother the others in the room the first hour I was there apparently was too much for Fowler, so he turned off the television and donned some headphones.

Again, my nose was in a magazine. Again, just waiting my turn, bothering precisely nobody.

Eventually, Fowler called the producer into an office and the two spoke quietly behind a closed door for about five minutes.

The room was directly behind me, so I couldn't see the door open, but I did hear the knob turn and from that exact moment I doubt I could have finished saying, "One Mississippi" before I heard this from the producer:

"Hey John, Herbie's still out there lingering on the set and by the time he gets back here, we're going to be starting our production meeting, so you might have better luck trying to grab him out there."

That's probably not verbatim, but it's pretty accurate. It also might be code for something far less sanitized than anything that was said behind a closed door a minute earlier.

I packed my bag and not at all to my surprise, no one was sad to see me leave. I hustled outside to join the rest of the throng, and since I had no credential to be inside that oh-so coveted GameDay gate, I basically looked the part of another adoring ESPN fan.

I did see Herbie make a move to flee the set, so I put on my stalker hat and followed him back toward the compound, accompanied by a state-trooper looking fella'. I got Herbie's attention and he said we'd still be able to do it, but he just needed a few minutes.

I waited outside for, again, longer than I was expecting, and when he re-emerged from the building with another security guy about 20 minutes later, he shook his head from afar, then walked right past me without so much as a glance as he got closer.

Am I disappointed I didn't get the interview? Yes. But what bothered me way more is that the ESPN people weren't the only ones with shit to do last Friday.

If someone isn't able or even interested in talking to me, just have the courage to say so and then I can go spend those two-and-a-half hours more productively. Don't make a 15-year news veteran feel like a stalker for chasing the interview that easily could have happened.

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Highlight Reel From Bill Simmons' Portland Book Signing

The Kirk Herbstreit Interview That Never Happened