Funny little essay at the Detroit Bad Boys about the pompous gas-bag NBA announcer, Deadhead, and former NBA great, Bill Walton. I've also grown to appreciate the on-air schtick of Walton, but its palatability depends on his announcing partners being up for the challenge. Walton needs to have someone to deflate his rhetorical balloons, at least sometimes.
Bill Walton is my hero For a long time, I was in the camp of the Bill Walton haters. I seethed every time I heard him laud praise upon Kazaam or fall at the feet of Kobe Bryant…I mean, Mamba. I chose to watch games on mute rather than hear his man-love for Coach Wooden seep into whichever game he was talking over. The incessant stammering coupled with the goofy, Deadhead persona made him unbearable. It seemed even his play-by-play partners were beside themselves at his stupidity.But something happened along the way that caused me to reconsider my disdain for Big Red; I actually turned the volume up and listened to one of his games. And in doing so, I realized quickly that the joke was on me, that my naivete and/or blind-hate had kept me from appreciating Walton for what he is: a willing punchline. His hyperbole, his non-sequitors, his uncomfortable hetero-crushes–Walton is just playing along, throwing humorous tidbits against the wall to see which ones stick.
read more, including some good quotes, if you can take white type on black background.
Tags: Basketball, /media
