Kornheiser was a terrific writer for the Washington Post for decades. Could grind a sacred cow into hamburger in 1,500 words or less. Smart, neurotic, rumpled. ESPN gave him an offer he couldn't refuse even though he has a crippling fear of flying, among other phobias.
What were they thinking? The book is crammed with WWTT moments, some of them turning into triumphs, some into ashes. Kornheiser told the world, proudly, that he never watched "Monday Night Football" because it ran past his bedtime. When the players huddled, Kornheiser thought they were talking about him.
Tirico, and the rest of the civilized world, knew Tony had never played or coached football. He couldn't figure out what kind of straight line he could throw Kornheiser and after about 11 minutes of the first game, he quit trying.
After three brutal seasons, they paroled Kornheiser and put him back doing what he does best, arguing shrilly with Mike Wilbon on "Pardon the Interruption." It works because they put a ticking clock on every subject, knowing the average viewer has the attention span of a cricket.
They replaced Kornheiser with Jon Gruden on "Monday Night Football," which means they've got two inside-football guys in the booth now, but the mood is lighter because Tirico chuckles when Gruden clears his throat.
They still drag in celebrity guests at awkward moments (any time after the opening kickoff is an awkward moment), but not Jimmy Kimmel anymore, and that's not a bad thing.
It's a strange book, snippets of interviews, one after another like a quilt or a ransom note, the occasional italicized commentary from the authors to fill in gaps in the narrative. There are booze and sex episodes scattered through the book, with the bad behavior blamed on culture-parched Bristol, Conn., the network's headquarters.
