bobes6 said:
Rick Starr. Is it possible to relive the Bob Prince and Nellie King dismissals and search and eventual replacement hirings? Thanks.
As someone upthread noted, I came to the station in 1977; the Prince controversy and replacement was already done by that time. The main guy was Milo Hamilton, his sidekick this Frattare guy. Milo was a piece of work, alright. Lanny was an insecure little guy who barely said boo. I never liked Milo, and it wasn't because he replaced Prince, it was just because. Everybody liked Lanny (sounds like a sitcom, eh?), mostly because he had to put up with Milo, I think. (Nah, he was a good guy. Really.)
I said in another thread (I think) that Chris Cross came up with the idea of bringing back Bob Prince in 1985, the year when the Pirates were at their nadir and we were groping for something, anything to help the team. (It wasn't going to be some silly promotion like 'green weenies', that's for sure.) Chris and I were driving to a client ski party and he pitched it to me in the car, just shooting crazy ideas. I looked at him and said "Are you working me?" He grinned, paused, and said "Yeah." "OK," I replied, "go on."
It was impossible, of course. Prince had stepped on everybody's toes on the way out (the WEEP parade didn't help) and had been fired with malice; he'd told the GM (Bill Hartmann) and Regional VP (Ed Wallis) to pound sand, he'd embarrassed the station in front of clients, the list was endless, so there was no chance that Westinghouse would have him back. Worse, the Pirates hated him, too. As did the sponsors.
So after deciding it was just crazy enough that it might work, we visited the team - then in turmoil and with new people in most postions, and after being told "it's impossible" and running through I don't know how many of their own internal meetings they said "Oh, go ahead. How could it get any worse?"
A check of the client list showed most of the sponsors he'd pissed off were gone anyway, including (and especially) Iron City. Budweiser was now our biggest single sponsor. And then I made the pitch to our corporate overlords in New York, - who WERE the same people, and I was about thrown out of the room. No, that's not an exaggeration.
But I asked for them to finish hearing the pitch, which included something to the effect "and it's so bad the team might leave the city to get a fresh start somewhere." Well. Apparently (conjecture on my part) there were phone calls between Westinghouse Broadcasting HQ in New York and Westinghouse Electric HQ in Pittsburgh, where they found I wasn't kidding, and I was invited to make the pitch again, to more receptive ears.
And I did, and they said yes, and only then did I contact Bob Prince. Only to find out that he was in the hospital recovering from cancer surgery. Talk about a moment: I was sure I had ruined my career, getting so many pissed-ON executives to give me the green light only to find out that the idea was verklempt in the first place.
I believe Chris Cross may have known all about this part, I've never asked him, but I suspect he had had conversations with Bob to make sure he would do it. Anyway, I visited him in the hospital where I had a sidebar conversation with Bob's doctor, who assured me that the surgery had been successful, that Bob would recover, that he would be "weak" for some time, but that there was no reason he couldn't do "some announcing" if he watched himself.
Long story short (too late), we made the deal and paid him a pittance (it didn't matter to Bob, he would have come free), and Bob returned to announce "the middle three". Our first vision had been that he would do "the middle three" at all games, but the sickness made that impossible; travel would be just too taxing, so it became "the middle three" at home games. He performed barely well that first night, but it didn't matter, the team coming up with a welcome back salute never to be forgotten. Bob's performance declined after that, but I didn't personally see him getting weaker until the night of his last broadcast (about a month later, IIRC), when a rain delay forced us all to sit around waiting, waiting, waiting... He became so weak it was apparent he wouldn't be back.
I don't know if that doctor was just zoomin' me so Bob could have one last ride around the track (and Bob would have told the Doc to say so, I'm sure), or whether he was just mistaken, but that's what transpired.
The Gunner died in the hospital some days later, with his wife and Chris Cross at his side. I was outside, a fitting place for me given the dynamic, and Chris was bedside, an even more fitting finale given what he had done. I am conflicted in all the aftermath. I guess it was good that he got his final hurrah, having given so much to so many (charitable and otherwise), but I wondered if our exploitation of the situation (and there is no other way to say it) hastened his demise. I suspect he would have done it anyway, and gladly.
I am happy to have known him and had some part in the episode - and now to relate it here. (I'm about to be off the net for a couple weeks as I travel to Boston to rehab a condo we still own there, so this will have to suffice, at least for now. I'll try to check in late in December if there are any followups.)