With Less Schtick, Harry & Spike May Stick

December 07, 1998|By Ed Sherman.

This is about equal time.

When Harry Teinowitz and Spike Manton took over as afternoon hosts on the new ESPN 1000 sports-talk station in October, the local reaction was akin to Dave Wannstedt being named coach of the Bulls. "Harry and Spike" should have been renamed "Harried and Spiked."

The local broadcast community was surprised that ESPN, with all its muscle, couldn't do better than a couple of retreads from the doomed all-sports disaster at WMVP. Before they even started, their brand of radio was dismissed as sophomoric in many quarters, including a piece in this space that was kind compared with the other shots taken at them.

Welcome to the big time, boys. You can take the daggers out of your backs now.

"You see the stuff in the paper, and you'd rather have nice things written about you," Teinowitz said. "But we're very confident guys. If we're given a chance, we'll have an opportunity to succeed."

The odds are against the two former comedy-club performers. But who would have thought that a former hot-dog-stand owner, Mike North, would become the biggest sports-talk personality in town?

"We like being the underdogs," Manton said.

The two are amazed that they even got this far.

Teinowitz grew up in Glencoe, graduating from New Trier East. After a year at Kansas, he set off for Hollywood to become an actor. He landed a role in the 1980 film "Up the Academy," playing a pyromaniac bed-wetter. Bet his parents were proud.

"As a matter of fact, they were," Teinowitz said.

Teinowitz eventually landed on the comedy-club circuit, where he met Manton, who took a much different route. He was raised outside Syracuse, N.Y., and went to college at Bradley. After working at Procter & Gamble for 3 1/2 years, he decided he would rather tell jokes for a living. Manton's in-laws weren't very proud.

While chasing their dreams, the pair traveled a lot together and came to the same conclusion about sports-talk radio.

"Much of it wasn't very good," Manton said. "We thought to ourselves, `Hey, we could be this bad.' "

No jokes, please.

In May 1994, they landed a Saturday night sports show on what was then WMVP-AM 1000. They developed something of a cult following, befriending many athletes along the way. Ex-Hawk Bernie Nicholls was a regular in the studio.

They thought they got their chance with a daily midday gig in March 1996, but the show lasted only nine weeks before WMVP ditched the all-sports format.

That should have been that. Manton landed with Steve Dahl on WCKG-FM, and Teinowitz was working an evening shift there when they got a call from ESPN's Mike Elder.

"We didn't apply for this job," Manton said. "We didn't know there was a job to be sought."

So "Harry and Spike" were reunited, which initially wasn't such a good thing.

"We came back with little idea of what we are," Teinowitz said.

Were they sports guys who tried to be funny? Or comedians who liked sports?

The first few weeks were heavy on schtick: planned bits, asking silly questions of guests, and so on. If you wanted to get a solid sports fix, their show wasn't the place.

Teinowitz and Manton realized they had to change their course. They scaled back some of the jokes and put more of a premium on content.

"We don't mind being thought of as the court jester," Teinowitz said. "But we also want to put on a first-rate sports show."

Added Manton: "We're better broadcasters in the last eight weeks than we were in the last 4 1/2 years. We're going to get better as we go along."

But they don't have a long-term deal with ESPN, which means they will have to prove themselves fast.

Manton believes they will pass the test. Their goal is "to be here in a year."

"Everyone thinks, `They'll be gone,' " Manton said. "But we won't be."

They were entertaining Friday with a mock trial over whether Dave Wannstedt should be fired. Teinowitz was the prosecutor, and Manton was Wannstedt's defense attorney. Ed Vrdolyak was the judge, and it mostly was amusing.

But earlier in the week, a caller made a solid point when he reminded the pair that the subject of their phony trial was a real man with a family. Shouldn't there be some sensitivity, the caller asked?

The pair quickly dismissed the notion, maintaining that Wannstedt is a public figure.

Well, irony of ironies, so are Teinowitz and Manton. Every day they are on trial before the sports listeners of Chicago. And sensitivity won't factor into the verdict.

Recommended viewing: HBO has a winner in a documentary titled "Sugar Ray Robinson: The Bright Lights and Dark Shadows of a Champion." The show, which debuts Tuesday at 9 p.m., portrays Robinson as a wonderful boxer who, like many champs before and since, couldn't handle success.