Farewell, Mike Francesa

Today marks the end of an era, one that has spanned pretty much my entire adult, professional life – since the late 1980s. Mike Francesa signs off from Sports Radio WFAN in New York City for the last time. No more #backaftuhdis. No more “first-time, long-time” callers. No more vintage, Rage Monster rants about … whatevuh. Mike’s On … no more.

I’ll admit to being depressed over this news. I never once called into his show, never even considered dialing the toll-free line to talk to the man they call the Sports Pope. He has said that a small fraction of the listening audience, like 1 percent, actually calls in. The rest of us, the silent followers, have been listening intently for the past several decades. Afternoons won’t be the same, listening to Mike’s very distinctive, New Yawk voice. Was he nasty and dismissive with callers? Yes. Does he have an oversized ego? You bet. Is he as good as it gets on the radio, the gold standard by which all others are measured, creating a genre that did not exist before he started? Yes, yes, yes.

Here’s the great contradiction that is Mike Francesa: He can be a self-centered, bloviating, arrogant talk-show host. Most folks who sit behind a microphone for 5.5 hours a day, week after week, year after year, tend to be that way. But what I have always loved about Mike is that his show is not about him. Oh sure, he name-drops all the time. But he keeps the show true about sports, and nothing but sports.

Here’s how Daily News TV/radio columnist Bob Raissman, who I believe first dubbed Francesa the Sports Pope, put it: “In a time when Gasbags fill the air with ancillary babble, talking about themselves while laughing hysterically at their own lame observations, Francesa was Francesa, sticking with what kept him the undisputed king of local sports talk.”

Oh gosh, could he repeat himself. If there was an important point worth making, Mike would make it. Over and over and ovuh. But, this was true, old-school radio. You never know who is just getting into his car for the first time. Same with his interviews, which all – even those who don’t like him, and there are many – can agree is one of his strong points. When he is interviewing someone, he always reminds the listeners who he is interviewing. Few if any interviewers do that anymore. Again, old-school radio: You never know who is tuning in, during the interview.

His voice was my constant companion in the afternoon, driving around the Tri-State area. I’ve never met him, but I feel like I know him really well. His voice has been in my head, in my car, forever. The past few years, his show, his voice, kept me company as I drove endlessly to and from New Jersey to care for my ailing parents. Listening to his show was a soothing, constant distraction during the weeks and months before my father passed away. It kept my mind off things; mumbling to the dashboard about what he was talking about … it got me through those drives.

Similarly, when I was laid up in bed after hip/leg surgery back in 2015, I propped up my laptop with his show playing, as I drifted in and out of the pain-induced fog. My family knows now that when I am home, sitting in my driveway in the car, in the afternoon, it’s because I am finishing up listening to an interview, a caller, a segment on … whatever. I wanted to listen. I needed to listen. Life was on hold; I would wait till the commercial to go inside.

He has been the soundtrack of our lives, mostly male sports fans, through varying stages of our lives. Callers lately have been telling him how they first started listening to him in the back seat of the car, driving around with their dads. Now, they are dads, and their kids are listening to him. Callers have talked about how they have been stuck in LIE traffic for hours at a time, listening to him; how they went from doing term papers in college, to changing diapers, to driving their kids around, to commuting home from work – all the time, with 660 AM on the dial, the know-it-all Sports Pope droning on in the background. He’s always been there for us – more hours than any other talk show out there. He made a lot of money, but he earned every penny. I didn’t always agree with him, but I always respected his opinion, and I always looked forward to his take on anything – and that includes non-sporting events. He talked about how sports is the Toy Store, the distraction from the rest of the real world. But when the real world came crashing in – 9/11, Sandy Hook, 2016 presidential election – there was Mike to talk about it and make some sense of it all for us.

Lisa from Whitestone, a rare woman who was a regular caller to the show, said on the last show this afternoon: “There’s a poignancy that is palpable today,” and she pointed out that his departure will leave a “glaring void” in our afternoons. So true! Thanks for the memories, Mike. We’ll miss you – all of us, even Pete from Hyde Park, who never called in but always, always was listening. Afternoons will be a lot quieter in my car, and for so many other loyal fans.