Vulgar Truth About Televised Sports

It was Wednesday evening, and I couldn't have been more excited for a night of escapist television.

What glorious experiences would that visionary of cable excitement VERSUS offer me this evening?

Would it be that episode of "HOLY @#%*!" where they show horrifying crashes from the Tour de France? Would it be a new edition of "The Next Bite" in which Gary, Keith, and Chase pound world-class Walleye on Lake Ontario? Or perhaps the continuing adventures of the Yaxha Tribe on the syndicated version of "Survivor?"

My mind raced with anticipation, almost as fast as my fingers darted around the remote control as I surfed to channel ... well, whatever the hell channel VERSUS is located on my digital cable system.

Once I found it, did I get Tour de Crash? No. Did I get angling for Walleye? No. Did I get Jeff Probst in that dopey safari outfit? No.

I got something called "The 55th Annual National Hockey League All-Star Game."

They preempted professional bull-riding for this?

Okay, full disclosure: I could give a rat's ass about fishing and "Survivor" reruns. I'm a hockey fan of preposterously die-hard proportions, and was one of maybe 27 Americans who had made it a point to watch the All-Star Game (and were not related in any way to the players competing in it).

One of the primary reasons I tuned to VERSUS for the game was to see the unveiling of these new Reebok jerseys: a redesign that has created the biggest sports fan fashion panic since the Detroit Pistons turned teal (or whatever color it was supposed to be). For the uninitiated, messing with the traditional look of a hockey sweater is the biggest sin that could ever be committed against The Game. Seriously, the Vatican could come out tomorrow and mandate that all priests have to start wearing leather chaps and tube tops during mass and it would be less blasphemous than if the NHL did anything to augment the Red Wings' home solids.

Upon first glance, I have to say that much of our pregame consternation about this potential fashion faux pas was unfounded. They weren't an abomination ... yet. As all-star jerseys, they looked passable, even if the players looked a tad uncomfortable. A kid like Eric Staal of Carolina looked at home in the "Rollerball"-ish sweaters; 6-foot-9 defenseman Zdeno Chara, however, resembled a Turboman doll from "Jingle All the Way."

I'll hold off judgment on the new duds until:

1. I see what an Original Six jersey looks like in the new format; mess with the Blackhawks solids, and I'm going to find the culprit and scalp them myself.

2. I see what my 60-year-old father — with a belly shaped by at least 45 years of adult beverages — looks like in a Reebok sweater.

3. If conditions one and two are met, I know I can purchase one of these without having to sell one of my kidneys on the black market to meet the sticker price.

Jerseys aside, the All-Star Game continues to draw fan ire as usual, even if it was the first edition since before the lockout. Too much offense, they say, as if one of these glorified goal-hangers is going to throw a hit during an exhibition game. Too much nonsense taking away from the game itself, they say, as if an interview with Chuck Norris isn't more important than a goal being scored. (Chuck Norris doesn't watch the NHL All-Star Game ... the NHL All-Star Game watches Chuck Norris.) Worst rendition of the Canadian National Anthem we've ever heard, they say ... and yeah, it probably was.

Fans and media have once again slammed the use of the "rail cam" as being a failure, which is like calling the Toyota Prius a failure because we're still using gasoline. The rail cam — a hi-def camera placed above the near glass that followed players at ice level on a track — remains a work in progress, an extended experiment. Its operators obviously don't have a feel for the play, and the game's director didn't know when to integrate it. Joe Starkey, a sports writer for the Pittsburgh Tribune-Review, said that the NHL is trying too hard with the rail cam. "If it's the speed of the game you're trying to convey, forget it. Can't be done, except maybe in snippets, the way NASCAR captures the speed around turns with a static camera."

Nonsense. There were times when the rail cam showed flashes of brilliance — even Starkey gave props to an odd-man rush the cam caught involving Staal and an Eastern Conference teammate — and I want to see it used more. Any hockey fan who saw this invention implemented in the wonderful Heritage Classic game a few years back will agree that when it works, it conveys the speed and fury of live hockey better than any other television innovation has. Give it some time.

The VERSUS crew had the goalies mic'ed up during the all-star game, and the results were stunning. Listening to Dallas Stars keeper Marty Turco crack jokes, self-deprecate, and evaluate live plays was one of the most enjoyable all-star experiences I've ever had as a hockey fan. It brought an entirely human element to a game that, on television, can seem so very distant — due to everything from helmeted players to the separation between the crowd and the ice surface.

There was a rawness to it that appealed to me.

I want to hear more.

A while back, before the NHL settled into its current television configuration, I wrote a piece outlining why the league should consider having games on HBO:

"I actually had 'NHL on HBO' on the brain for a while — mainly because of the HDTV options, and the fact that we could finally hear the players sounding like Reggie Dunlop during the game."

Hearing Turco mic'ed up reminded me that the last, great undiscovered country in televised sports is broadcasting games that are completely uncensored, from the action on the field/court/ice to the commentary in the booth. Imagine watching a NHL game with both goaltenders mic'ed up, only their comments are captured throughout the entire game and without any regard for FCC regulation.

Hockey in the raw. Hockey in the real.

Turco's commentary was nice, but I want to hear an Olaf Kolzig temper tantrum. I want to hear Marty Brodeur mumbling expletives under his breath about being run by every opposing forward during a game. I want to hear the most interesting people on the ice — and make no mistake that goalies are second only to pitchers for outspoken eccentricity — speaking without restriction.

And it shouldn't end with hockey. We live in an ever-growing digital society, one that is allowing us to literally purchase entire seasons of sporting events on a pay-per-view basis. Soon, we might be offered the chance to select our own commentators and camera angles for every game. So why not an uncensored channel of sports commentary and audio, one that would allow fans to fully perceive the intensity on the field and hear the kind of frank discussion of the game we'd be having ourselves in a sports bar?

Could you imagine Denis Leary as an uncensored hockey analyst? Would you miss a NBA game with a booth filled with dudes who ball in some playground in the Bronx? Hell, this might even be a good reason to bring Dennis Miller back to the NFL.

Honest, uncensored commentary with honest, uncensored sounds of the game. I want to hear every taunt at the line of scrimmage. I want to hear every word two goons utter before dropping the gloves. I want to hear what the hell LeBron said to Gilbert Arenas at the free-throw line in last year's playoffs. Set up the Jason Bourne surveillance equipment, and let's start eavesdropping like we're all high-rolling season-ticket holders.

Is there room in this world for R-rated sports coverage? Would the leagues' corporate masters and calculating player-agents allow such candid behavior? Are we, as fans, ready to strip away the formalities and etiquette of professional sports and embrace their vulgar, seedy side?

I don't know about you, but holy @#%*!, am I ready...


SportsFan MagazineGreg Wyshynski is the Features Editor for SportsFan Magazine in Washington, DC, and the Senior Sports Editor for The Connection Newspapers of Northern Virginia. His book is "Glow Pucks and 10-Cent Beer: The 101 Worst Ideas in Sports History." His columns appear every Saturday on Sports Central. You can e-mail Greg at [email protected].

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