Understand, nobody elected me "Official Sports Radio Critic" of Flipside Sports
(though I lobbied for it desperately).  The extent of my radio experience consists of
calling Tim Bragg's show once in
1999 and admiringly peeking into
the radio studio at "ESPN Zone" in
Chicago; formally trained in this
area I am not.  With that being said,
I do have one trait that might prove
beneficial in validating my critique:
I love sports radio.  I love it because
of the creativity and spontaneity. I
love it because of the personalities.
I love it because it's not Jay-Z and
JLo performing their re-re-re-mix of
a song which should have been
re-re-removed from the airways 18
months ago.  In short, I'm a sports-
radio fanatic, and as such, I feel I'm
qualified to do what should have
been done a long time ago: call out
Mark Patrick.

Something has to be done about
Mark Patrick On Sports (or MPOS for
our accronym-loving readers). 
Seriously.  It can't go on like this. 
I can't stand idly by and
watch as this city's largest and most well-funded sports radio show continuously puts
out a product that is seldom sports-related and most often un-listen-able.

Indianapolis will never achieve the major-market-status it desperately craves as long
as "Big-Nuts-Bobby" repeatedly stands as the most popular guest of the most
popular show (with his semi-daily recountings of the "hilarious" hijinx associated with
his postal route).  I don't want to hear about a large black mailman drop-kicking
Terriers on the way to his scheduled pickup.  I really, really don't want to hear about
his testicles.  Moreover, I don't want to hear the Watson Girl talk about anything,
ever.  I don't want to hear a hackneyed impersonation of a seemingly sex-crazed and
gay Lou Holtz for the 23rd time that week.  (Yes, we know Holtz coaches the South
Carolina Gamecocks...yes, we get it that the mascot resembles slang for the male
anatomy...no, it wasn't terribly amusing to begin with and it hasn't gotten any funnier
since.)

What I do want to hear is some discussion on what the f--- the Pacers are going to
do with Austin Croshere.  What I do want to hear is a Colts insider telling us if the
Edge is back to his 1,600-rushing-yards-per-season-self.  I want to listen to a sports
show, not a three-o'clock encore presentation of Bob & Tom.

With that being said, I've detailed below the aspects of the localized MPOS that I find
most troubling/disturbing/irritating.  I'm not even going to attempt rationalizing how he
got his semi-national gig on FoxSports radio.  It defies logic.  It parallels Kate Hudson
marrying Chris Robinson.  Some things in life are so utterly mysterious, so far
beyond the comprehension of the human mind that attempting to understand them is
pointless.  Therefore, to me, there is no national version of MPOS (nor did Hudson
hook up with a scragglier, homlier version of the Unabomber).  Without further ado,
here are the main defects in Mark Patrick On Sports...     

___________________________________________________________________________

                                                                       Sound Effects

The God-awful (and omnipresent) sound effects that get repeated ad nauseam on
MPOS might deserve the most treatment.  If Patrick were the most talented,
knowledgable and articulate radio host in the country (which he's not), I still would be
hesitant to tune in simply because of the overdose of sound effects and soundbites
the show entails.  The cha-ching of a cash register, for example, whenever he
mentions a corporation or business was ever-so-slightly amusing the first time he
used it some 15 years ago.  It has elevated to Stuart Scott-type proportions of
annoyance in the 2.4 million or so times it's been used since.

Way more aggrivating than the cha-ching is that goddamn laugh-track.  Seriously.  The
sound effect, in and of itself, is bad enough.  However, to play it after EVERY...SINGLE...
STUPID...JOKE in an attempt to make nonsensical and unfunny quips appear amusing is
beyond obnoxious.  It borders on criminal behavior. 

Incredibly, there is yet another rung in the MPOS ladder of irratation:  the "Sir-I-Gotta-
Go" soundbite (aka "SIGG").

(If you've ever listened to MPOS, at any point in your life, no matter the briefness,
then you undoubtedly understand the frustration of this diabolical attempt at humor.
If you've never listened to the show, kudos to you...and please disregard the
following paragraph.)

Estimate how many times the SIGG soundbite gets played during a full-length show. 
Honestly.  Two hundred?  Five hundred?  Has anyone ever tuned in for the full three
hours to find this out?  And what's with the variations of SIGG?  Is that supposed to
be the show's idea of fresh comedy?  Replacing Jamison Brewer's original "sir-I-gotta-
go" with the voice of a baby saying "Sir, I gotta go" only makes things worse.  It's the
radio equivolent of replacing "Baywatch" with "Baywatch Nights";  slightly altering an
inherently shitty product does not relieve the product of it's overall shittiness.  It
merely disguises it.  And only temporarily.


                                                                Impersonations  

Most of the time, Patrick's impersonations are of nobody in particular; he just
switches between various dialects like Robbin Williams in the throes of a coke
bender.  But that's not to say that anytime the Cincinnati Reds are mentioned, for
example, he won't eagerly break into his patented Marge Schott routine. The Schott-
gag was funny about 18 years and six Reds owners ago, but Patrick won't put it to
rest because it's a rare instance of when he's able to combine both his knowledge of
sports and his God-given gift to annoy.  

However, unlike the chuckling Neanderthals in Sector 7-G (who serve as a main
target-demographic of the show), those of us reading at-or-above the sixth-grade
level aren't terribly interested in the Rich
Little Memorial Comedy Hour.  Why must
he do this?  Why is he constantly on a
mission to prove his comedic value instead
of simply talking about something -- or
interviewing someone -- with at least a slight
connection to the vast world of sports?  The
title of the show is misleading: it promises
discussions or analyses or interpretations
of SPORTS, but it fails to deliver.  It's not the
"Mark Patrick On Feeble Attempts at
Comedy" show, is it?  It should be.

I find myself getting angrier and angrier just
writing about it.  And not just "oh-that-Mark-
Patrick-really-chaps-my-hide-angry," but
more along the lines of an unhealthy "I'm-
sweating-profusely-and-getting-stabbing-
pains-behind-my-eyeballs-angry."  Let's just
move on.

    

 

                               


                                        
                                            Shameless Plagerism of the Jim Rome Show

The emails Patrick asks for from his listeners are a blatent rip-off of The Jim Rome
Show and the emails submitted by the "Clones."

(You know, emails following this type of format:












Granted, that's a very basic, not-terribly-creative email, but you get the point.)

The emails on Rome are always moderately clever and slightly amusing, but they're
coming from a national audience who have
spent days drafting and re-drafting their
entries.  Patrick doesn't have this luxury.
Not to make wide-sweeping generalizations,
but the regular MPOS die-hard listeners are
half drunk in various dimly-lit bars or are
half-drunk at the helms of Tilt-a-Whirl's in
the Indiana State Fair Midway.  That's just
the way it is.  So this creates somewhat of a
problem when the MPOS audience is asked
to participate, especially when the task
necessitates a degree of cleverness and
coherency and sobriety.

For example, here's the MPOS carnie-version
of the aforementioned email:















I truly believe I heard this exact email last week.  The "carniemail" may not be
verbatim, but it captures the Speedway Williams' "what-the-holy-hell-is-going-on?"
factor exactly.  And as much as I could go about carnies, it's neither the time nor
the place.

Astonishingly, Patrick takes up valuable sports-discussion time reading such idiotic
and asinine emails.  Why?  Maybe highlighting the incompetence of his listeners
diverts attention from recognition of his own.  I truly don't know.

_________________________________________________________________________


How I miss the days of Tim Bragg and Bill Benner (Patrick's predecessors).  They
were the ones who first converted me from purely FM to strictly AM.  They were
professional and polite and self-depricating.  They talked sports and nothing but
sports.  No comedy bits.  No sound effects.  No impersonations.  But that didn't
work.  There was no advertising revenue in it.  Bragg and Benner couldn't reach the
carnie/deadbeat demographic that the station-owners so cherrished.  So WNDE
went out and re-hired Patrick; his non-stop sexual innuendos and sophomoric
attempts at humor are able to keep the gnat-like attention spans of the Cletus's and
Merle's and Hank's of Indianapolis.

Understand, I love this city, but could Patrick survive (let alone thrive) in Boston or
Chicago or New York (or any other city where the Ernest Goes to... movies flopped
miserably)?  Not a chance.  In those regions, sports talk-show hosts are just that:
sports talk-show hosts.  Bostonians or Chicagoans or Assholes wouldn't allow them
to be anything else.  In Indianapolis, though, it seems to be a different story. 
Apparently, our hosts don't need Jim Rome-like creative subtlety when the audience
prefers to have the obvious hammered into their redneckian skulls.  You don't need
Tony Kornheiser-like insightfulness or Mike Greenberg-esque articulation to win over
the hearts and minds of listeners who giggle repeatedly when they hear the
soundbite -- for the 48th time that segment -- of the female Boston Globe reporter
saying that the Celtics "like to come from behind."    

In Indianapolis, you don't need to put out a quality product when Mark Patrick will do.
"So, Ken...welcome to the show.  [LAUGH TRACK]  We'll get to football stuff later.  [LAUGH TRACK]  [APPLAUSE]  Have you ever heard my impression of
Marge Schott?" [LAUGH TRACK]  [APPLAUSE]  [SIGG SOUNDBITE]
"Did somebody say Marge Schott?!?"

"No, Mark...I said 'thermodynamic astrophysics."
"Dear Rome,

We can't believe that the Detroit Tigers have had 10 losing
seasons in a row.  They really suck.  They should be
embarrassed that they've disgraced the city of Detroit like they
have.

                                                              Sincerely,

                                                               The Cincinnati Bengals
                                                               (Chuck in K.C.)"
"Dear Mark,
   
We don't think the Tigers is good for the city of Michigan.  They suck
somethin' fierce.  They're a sorry-ass Black Cat and we're a kick-ass
M-80!!!   

                                                            Sincerely,

                                                             Nell Carter and Carlton Fisk
                                                             (Mertus in the Midway)

p.s. Gimme a Baby SIGG and Tonto"
"I told you little f---ers, the ride's closed 'til I finish listenin' to Mark Patrick!  He's f---in' hilarious.  Talks about sports too much, though."