In a stretch, this week, and even in the wake of ESPN’s production of “LeBron au Follies,” one reasonably could conclude — again — that ESPN has become a put-on, a mockery of itself.
Item One: If yesterday, during ESPN’s 11-hour live coverage of the British Open, you instead spent those hours, say, re-grouting the bathroom, you didn’t miss much golf.
Consider: At 10 a.m. coverage returned after commercials. First seen was tape of leader Rory McIlroy playing the ninth and 18th holes. That was followed by a full-screen graphic — a photo of McIlroy next to some stats — then a taped interview with McIlroy.
Next, on ESPN’s live coverage of the Open, tape of John Daly’s 6-under, followed by a taped interview with Daly that already had been seen on ESPN.
Next, on ESPN’s live coverage of the Open, appeared tape of Tiger Woods’ 5-under round, followed by a taped interview with Woods. A full-screen graphic followed.
Next on ESPN’s live coverage of the Open, appeared commentators Terry Gannon and Curtis Strange from a studio, where they discussed the British Open that was being played, live, just behind them. That was followed by a scenery shot of St. Andrews, over which a full-screen graphic appeared.
Next on ESPN’s live coverage of the British Open came a live shot — from the practice range! Next, another scenic view of St. Andrews, followed by a graphic. Then, back to commercials.
For 13 straight minutes, ESPN’s live coverage of the British Open did not include a single live shot of someone playing in the British Open.
Throughout yesterday’s 11-hour coverage, ESPN, having insisted that we watch its live coverage of the British Open, worked hard not to show it. ESPN was more eager to show how much it can do at the Open, and what it can do to the Open.
Item 2: Even ESPN press releases now read like put-ons. This week’s included headlined word that Saturday’s “College GameDay Expands to Three Hours.” Gee, that’s great news.
That gives live on-TV, on-campus booze and testosterone-enriched mobs an extra hour to land a beer bottle or bottle rocket on the set. The other good news: That will cut into ESPN’s “Monday Night Football” pregame, which starts Tuesday mornings.
The next headlined item read, “Erin Andrews Adds College GameDay, Good Morning America to Sideline Reporting Role.”
Hmmm. Clearly, Ms. Andrews’ stature as “a serious broadcast journalist” — ESPN’s description — has risen since her appearances on ABC’s “Dancing With The Stars” and in sexually suggestive magazine photo spreads.
No matter how many more sexual misconduct cases escape Bristol, young women should by now be able to decode the ESPN/ABC/Disney secrets to success.
Item 3: Wednesday, ESPN’s 6-7 p.m. “SportsCenter” was loaded with promotion for the ESPY awards, including shots of ESPN talent prepping for their appearances. “I’m puttin’ on my top hat. …”
Yep, the big story on ESPN was ESPN. Again.
That was followed by the two-hour “Countdown to the ESPYs” — reads like a put-on, no? — and that was followed by the two-hour ESPYs, which long ago, like ESPN as a whole, blew its best chances.
Quit racial quips or drop double standard
Yesterday, from St. Andrews, ESPN host Mike Tirico threw it to Rocco Mediate, working for ESPN and covering the next shot from Italy’s Edoardo Molinari. Kidding among the analysts began about how it’s good to have a Rocco covering “the Italian boy.”
“It’s right about pasta time, 7:15 [p.m. in Scotland],” added Tirico.
OK, all in good fun, no offense intended and, hopefully, none taken.
But what if there had been an African-American assigned to the next shot by a black player, or a Mexican-American analyst covering a Mexican player, or a Chinese-American covering a Taiwanese, and the same associative cultural cracks were spoken:
“Hey, it must be fried chicken time,” “Must be time for burritos” or “Those guys make me want shrimp and lobster sauce.”
Hell would boil up and over; apologetic network statements would be released; careers would be stained, ruined.
It either has to work one way, all the time, or the other way, all the time; it can’t keep working two different ways and pretend to serve equality.
While we’re on the subject, at no time is Jesse Jackson more eager to reveal himself as a former civil rights activist who now appeals only to habit-headed media, frightened corporations susceptible to shakedowns and to fringe lunatics, than when he gives sports a shot.
Yes, Cavaliers co-owner Dan Gilbert behaved like a jerk after the Cavs lost LeBron James. But Jackson’s claim that Gilbert exhibited “a slave master mentality” — a dulled dart thrown at white team owners, an accusation often recklessly applied and historically insulting — ignored this:
The first coach the Gilbert brothers, in 2005, hired, Mike Brown, is black. Five years later, the second coach the Gilberts hired, Byron Scott, is black.
But recall Jackson’s response to the NBA’s suspension in 1997 of Dennis Rodman after he kicked a courtside photographer, his latest in an endless series of antisocial and highly commercialized behavior.
Jackson claimed the NBA had “stripped Rodman of his dignity,” which, by then, was impossible. … Oh, and the photographer Rodman kicked was black.
Berman ‘back, back, back’ to being a pest
From reader Howie Corber: “My favorite part of the Home Run Derby — and I forget how fabulous it is from year to year — is listening to Chris Berman scream, “back, back, back, back!” 4 million times in three hours. That never gets old!” Yep, Chris always has his finger on the seltzer bottle.
* Reader Frank Montwell was surprised that during Sunday’s ABC/ESPN telecast of the World Cup final, Spain (identified in the score graphic as “ESP”) and the Netherlands (“NED”) didn’t appear as “ESP-NED.”
* Of all the events Jim McKay hosted for ABC, I miss him most during the British Open. His dignified calm added special to the special. Every year, for a week, he was our best import.
* From Jim Clements, reader from New Hyde Park, for years was Bob Sheppard’s co-congregant at St. Christopher’s in Baldwin, where Sheppard’s funeral yesterday was conducted:
“When Sheppard read the names of the sick or recently departed so that the parish could pray for them, he spoke their names with the same precision and dignity that he did when introducing Mickey Mantle, Joe DiMaggio and Derek Gee-tah.”
phil.mushnick@nypost.com