Those Guys Have All the Fun: Inside the World of ESPN

James Andrew Miller's--its obvious from the Introduction to the Acknowledgments to the writing itself that the sports-indifferent Tom Shales main contribution was lending his name to the project--THOSE GUYS HAVE ALL THE FUN is an engaging, if overly long, look at what has made ESPN the media and cultural phenomena that it is. Using an oral history format, the narrative runs from ESPN's humble beginnings to its current status of world domination. According to Miller, there were nine steps in ESPN's history that fell perfectly for the company not only to survive, but to rise to the top of its field.1) Original founders Bill and Scott Rasmussen's decision to buy a transpounder on RCA SATCOM I in 1978.2) Getty Oil's investment of $15 million in May of 1979.3) Creating a dual revenue stream in March 1983.4) Coverage of the America's Cup Challenge in 1987.5) Getting TV rights to NFL games in 1987.6) The $400 million, 4-year MLB deal in 1989.7) The mid-90s generated "THIS IS SPORTSCENTER" advertizing campaign.8) The acquisition of a full season of NFL games in 1998.9) The documentary series SPORTSCENTURY.The main players behind the scenes receive as much attention as the talent on screen. The Rasmussens have the idea, and negotiate an incredibly unlikely start, but are almost immediately kicked out the door by Stu Evey, the moneyman from Getty, and Chet Simmons, the legendary NBC producer. By the mid-1980s, Evey and Simmons were replaced by Bill Grimes and Steve Bornstein. By the 2000s, the respected and congenial George Bodenheimer was teamed with talented, but utterly brash Mark Shapiro. What didn't change, however, was Bristol, the little Connecticut village that is as much a character as any. To say that the talent didn't like living in Bristol would be an understatement. Better to work all day than to have an off day in Bristol.Miller, however, realizes that the best copy is always the talent. The main groupings are the professionals (Bob Ley, Robin Roberts, Charlie Steiner, Dan Patrick), the performers (Chris Berman, Craig Kilborn, Stephen A. Smith) and the out-of-control but immensely talented (Keith Olbermann). Smart, quick and insufferable, Olbermann's five years provide material enough for a separate volume. Miller writes, "Have Keith Theodore Olbermann spend a few seasons working at your TV network and see how you feel. Sort of like Kansas after a twister." On a level below Olbermann in talent (in Miller's eyes), but on the same level of being a whinny pain in-the-you-know-what is Bill Simmons.Those whom Miller exposes as being less than what they appear are Mike Tirico, Linda Cohn and Chris Berman. Tirico, rightly or wrongly, refused to give Tony Kornheiser any love in the MNF booth. Cohn's self-absorption tops Olbermann's. Berman is shown to be incapable of not being linked to the NFL, and also gave a cold shoulder to Kornheiser.Those whom Miller loves are Kirk Herbstreit and College GameDay ("a show prized as if it were the Golden Fleece and Hope Diamond put together"), Robin Roberts ("an unmistakeable aura of authority, a true pro's unflappability"), and Michelle Beadle ("humble but fearless standout").Miller's previous connections with WASHINGTON POST alum such as Kornheiser and John Walsh lead to very positive portrayals of their roles. The one glaring editing mistake of the book (apart from spelling Jim Nantz's name Jim Nance), however, is connected with a virtual repeat of the quotes on pages 607-608 and 676-677 dealing with Kornheiser's 3-year run on MNF. It is apparent that Miller takes the same Tirico clip and edits it two ways, and also uses the same John Skipper piece with slightly different editing. For such a professional job throughout, seeing the repetition stuck out like a sore thumb.Surprisingly, some of the more profound statements are found from Rick Reilly, who was beaten to a pulp in Malcolm MacCambridge's history of SI. Reilly points out that ESPN.COM exponentially spreads his column in a way that SI never could. He also recognizes the difference between those who learned the trade with fences (a 800 word column limit) versus those who learned on the internet (Simmons) without fences and battle to retain every word.Dan Patrick is also surprising. Given the light-heartedness of his radio show, he doesn't come off as a family man, but that is the main reason he left ESPN. He wanted more time with his family, sometime that he had abandoned under the regime of Mark Shapiro. When ESPN didn't relent from their demands, he came to the conclusion that ESPN cared mainly about the profit, and not the talent.And, that is the thread that runs through the story of ESPN as a whole. Business comes first. It comes first over the content. It comes first over the talent. It comes first over family. With that paradigm in place, the dream goal of the 1980s was realized in the 2000s--making ESPN a way of life. Welcome to the Mothership.

The duo of James Andrew Miller and Tom Shales have put together an expansive collection of content for <em>Those Guys Have All the Fun: Inside the World of ESPN.</em> Weighing in at a full-bodied 748 pages, the book is a text that seems a daunting obstacle, both as a reader and as proper work for the authors themselves.The narrative of the book is told through two main elements: First, Miller and Shales have organized transcribed interviews with various former and current ESPN employees, relevant industry figures and even the creators of the network, the Rasumussen family. Miller and Shales then add their own writing in order to contextualize, fill in the blanks or segway between segments of history or conversation.Stylistically, the book is an interesting read. The casual reader may find it odd at times to read italics -- in which Miller and Shales' own narrative is printed -- for more than a few pages at a time. If there was a qualm with overall content, it would that as editors, Miller and Shales often make the decision to contextualize an event or trial in ESPN history <em>after</em> gathering quotes from several interviewees instead of before. Several times along the 748 page journey I was left wanting for that editorial change as I was not privy to prior or intimated knowledge of the item, event or problem the interviewed personalities were referencing. Throughout the book I was left wanting Miller and Shales to have set the table with a brief summary of an event rather than doing so at the end.That being said, the quality of content delivered through first-person accounts is both sizable and interesting in its own regard. For the most part, the authors allow interested parties and their quotes to stand alone, free of editorial judgment of the overarching theme of a particular event or happening. This lends itself to a dynamic content base that, admittedly, makes for an exciting read as quotes from opposing sides of an argument, event, process or policy change to sit in juxtaposition to one another.Rather than sifting through an author's interpretation or bias through a straight narrative work, by placing direct quotes from interviewed parties Miller and Shales allow for the reader to see direct opinions from corporate executives, journalists and competitors on any given subject. The reader must sift through the obvious and sometimes laughably stark differences in opinion in everything from corporate identity all the way down to the actions of low-ranking Production Assistants.Chronologically, the book moves in expected fashion. For the casual, younger fan of ESPN it may feel as if it lingers on the pre-dominance period of the first decade of existence, not lending much interest unless particularly enthralled with the happenings of funding a start-up cable network in the early 1980's. However, for anyone interested in ESPN as a brand, the meat of the book does not disappoint.It would be a myth to say that <em>Those Guys Have All the Fun</em> is somehow a tale of ESPN's meteoric rise during the last fifteen years, launching off the shoulders of Dan Patrick and Keith Olbermann as the main characters. Certainly, much of the hype before the release of this book was about the "reveal" of this era as the most interesting period in ESPN history. Although the Patrick/Obermann era gains some traction in the book there isn't much to the argument that it is the focus, or even the most compelling narrative thread.<em>Those Guys Have All the Fun</em> is much more expansive than that and like the company it covers, is much larger than just a handful of people. The book is not without flaws, chief among them being length and lack of desirable editorial organization. However, as the title promises it is certainly a formidable look inside the world of ESPN and in typical, <em>SportsCenter</em>-esque irony, lends itself to being the best available option to consume desired content on a particular subject. Not unlike ESPN itself, the book is worth the price of viewership.

It's a big book, 750 pages but sails right by.

Great retrospective on the key decisions and problems faced by ESPN over the years. The writers had unprecendented access and candor from their interviewees, which led to some great insight as to how ESPN has lasted and innovated for so long. Appropriate touches of narration make this a fun read.

Good look behind my favourite show and network.

A little long, but I found the origin of ESPN very interesting. You've probably got to be a little nerdy and a sports fan. A lot of ESPN politics - some fascinating, but some boring. Also, it confirmed my suspicion that poker replace hockey during the hockey lock-out because it's so cheap to produce! Bring back hockey!

Piece of tv history

I started reading this book to get a history of the place. And at first, that's what I got. But, then it dissolved to a tattletale and gossip piece.It was there that I lost interest, and now it sits in my not finished Kindle collection.Very disappointed.