-- Now that every word of Dennis Miller's "Monday Night Football" debut has been analyzed, measured, poked, prodded, shaken, stirred and otherwise stretched on the rack of public opinion, it's time to take a deep breath, step back and ask a question.
As Miller himself might put it, can we all just cut him some freakin' slack for a second?
Sure, a few critics found the middle ground and took the wait-and-see approach after his wondrously uneven debut at the Hall of Fame contest on July 31. But most fans and critics were as happy to see the snarky comic in the booth as ... well ... Boomer Esiason.
The football wonks are afraid that Miller is ill-equipped to instantly recognize a weakside corner blitz from a two-deep zone, and that he cannot possibly understand the complexities of the strong safety's coverage of a tight end in motion on an eight-route. They're also afraid that he'll drop a reference to Abu Nidal or the Kama Sutra that will leave them more disoriented than that seventh can of Bud Ice.
Meanwhile, broadcast geeks lambasted Miller for stepping on the lines of his fellow announcers, for laughing just a little bit too loudly at his own jokes, and for generally lacking the broadcasting savvy of Jim McKay.
But every time you see a player stagger into camp bloated by an offseason of golf, strip clubs and paternity suits, aren't we cautioned to give him a couple of weeks to get into playing shape? And when a rookie looks more overmatched than you vs. Tiger Woods in match play, doesn't the call for patience ring from every broadcast booth?
And doesn't Dennis Miller deserve the same?
To me, Miller has one of the toughest jobs in all of sports broadcasting. His strength is skewering inflated egos, and in his first broadcasting job he's been put in a booth with Al Michaels and Dan Fouts. Michaels, by all reports, has an ego roughly the size of Alberta, and Fouts is no shrinking violet himself. Did you see the way he cackled at Kenny Stabler in that light beer ad? Well, did you?
Miller knows that one false step, one witty barb that falls flat at the feet of Michaels, and he's toast. You don't win battles with broadcasting legends -- ask Esiason. If Michaels doesn't think that a Super Bowl quarterback is worthy of trading barbs with him, what chance does the wise guy from "Weekend Update" stand?
Sure, in his debut he dropped the ball a few times (to use a hackneyed sports cliché to which, we hope, Miller will be less susceptible than the average ex-jock). He called Fouts "Donny." He made a lame joke about the scarcity of Cantonese food in Canton, Ohio. He mentioned genitalia more often than he did the score.
But he's a newbie at this whole unscripted thing. He's got some work to do, but he's also got a few weeks before the games count. He already showed moderate improvement in his second effort, August 14 in the Rams-Titans game.
Give him time, and he will do what he was hired to do -- point out the lighter side of football, show a fan's excitement for the game, deflate a few egos and give us a reason to keep watching a 31-0 blowout in the third quarter.
Besides, Don Ohlmeyer has bigger problems than Miller. They are, in order, the "Monday Night Football" schedule, Eric Dickerson and the brewing Lesley Visser/Melissa Stark controversy.
Last year's "MNF" ratings dipped to subterranean levels, and not solely because of the frozen-tundra relationship between Michaels and Esiason. ABC bet the farm that teams like the Falcons, Jets, Broncos and 49ers would remain among the class of the NFL. Of course, once Jamal Anderson, Vinny Testaverde, Terrell Davis and Steve Young were injured and lost for the season, fans were left with stinko matchups like the season finale between the 4-11 Niners and the 4-11 Falcons.
Are you ready for some No Doz?
If Ohlmeyer, the sports broadcasting guru whom ABC brought back to save "MNF," could wave a magic wand, the NFL would let him pick his November and December schedule sometime in October, thereby reducing the odds of sticking us with a dog of San Fran-Atlanta proportions. So far, that's not the case, meaning that Green Bay-Carolina, Kansas City-New England and Buffalo-Indy could be a deadly trifecta in Weeks 13-15 unless everybody stays healthy.
Dickerson (right) was dropped on the "MNF" sidelines this year with even less broadcast experience than Miller. At least Miller has lived with the camera in his face for the past 15 years. Dickerson is a former NFL rushing champion. Those credentials qualify him to be ... a former NFL rushing champion.
In his first game, Dickerson showed the world that he's more comfortable giving interviews than conducting them. Of course, if we're preaching patience with Miller, then Dickerson deserves likewise. But he's got a lot of work to do if he hopes to avoid comparisons to Joe Montana, Fred "The Hammer" Williamson, Joe Namath and other ex-players who flopped when they donned the hokey blazer and pancake makeup.
And speaking of makeup, this Visser story sure looks like it's going to have legs, if you will. Surely you know by now that Visser, 46, was removed from her "MNF" sideline gig and replaced not only by Dickerson but also by the eye-catching Stark (left), 20 years her junior but a veteran of four years at ESPN.
Now, don't get me wrong -- Stark appears to be a fine reporter. But if you buy the praise heaped on her by Ohlmeyer and crew, she's Edward R. Murrow in pumps. ABC's executives will say anything to justify the firing of Visser, who will bring her annoying hats and cloying, vacuous interviews to CBS this fall.
Does she have an age discrimination suit on her hands? Only her attorney knows for sure. But Ohlmeyer needs Stark to be as good as her buildup if he wants to quell implications of impropriety in hiring the younger, blonder reporter.
Of course, the over-under on Miller making a snide comment about the whole controversy is Sept. 18. Just lay off the Bud Ice, or it will go right over your head.
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