In an effort to not bow to the power of TV — though last night we notched another full hour of "Frasier" on our tube-watching axe handle … Let me start over: Erika and I don't have cable. And I don't think we're going to get it, even in anticipation of the DTV switch-over in February. (Our child will never know the joy of analog television.) It would just suck us in. Well, really it would suck me in.
Precedence exits: While Erika was taking her class near Morristown, N.J., in August, I was back at the hotel allowing toxic levels of ESPN, ESPN2 and ESPN News to seep into my eyes. I shudder thinking about what could happen here at home when ESPN Classic is thrown into the mix as an obligatory part of a cable package. ("Bills-Oilers '92 playoff game? I've got nothing better to do.")
So … in light of this, I've had to feed my sports fix with radio during those hours when football contests are usually shown on pay TV. I like to think I'm the only one following the game this way outside of truck drivers, pizza delivery people, people who work in downtown parking lot shacks and shut-ins. I know that's not true, but it's a fiction that enhances the romance — that old romance of the radio.
Really, I only wrote this post to proclaim my love for Westwood One's football coverage. If you're like me and are in the same fix, you have undoubtedly become familiar with Westwood One, the nationally syndicated radio network (which I believe is an arm of CBS) that carries the Thursday/Monday night games. My week doesn't seem right now without at least a 15-minute visit with Boomer Esiason and Marv Albert on Monday night or gravelly voiced Dennis Green on Thursday.
I've been listening to Westwood One for more than five years now — over four residences and countless nights. Its existence reinforces the warming idea that somewhere, everywhere a game is on the radio for you to listen to while you unwind and forget your problems, if just for a few moments. Sometimes when you're alone, that's all you really need.
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