Dear Verne Lundquist and Gary Danielson,
I’m writing to y’all together because I feel as though you are two peas in a pod.
For the past five years you have been together in the booth, and I feel as though I have been right there next to you. Our relationship started out so well. In 2006, we were starting to get acquainted with one another on our first few dates.
Merton (I hope it’s OK that I call you by your given first name, Merton Laverne “Verne” Lundquist Jr.), your charming laugh (oh ho ho, what a charming laugh it is) made me chuckle deep inside whenever you busted out in laughter. Your play-by-play, while baffling at times, was music to my ears.
Gary, I can’t say enough about how great it was to have you around in those early years. You know your football, and you know it well. In 2007, you were there to guide me through a national championship season, including a Southeastern Conference title. You praised the football program at the school I attend, and everything was going so well.
But then, guys, things started to go south. A quarterback by the name of Tim Tebow came along and captured your hearts when he won a Heisman Trophy and a national title. Now, we don’t stop hearing his name during your broadcasts. Every time I hear the name, I feel as though you are taking away a piece of my heart.
Then Mr. Saban showed up at Alabama around the same time, won a national championship and this season you won’t stop saying his name. We used to be so close, Merton and Gary. Now your collective heart has turned away from me. I am left alone.
You don’t feel the way for LSU as you once did now that these other teams have shown up.
As for me, I no longer get that sense of excitement whenever I turn on CBS to watch y’all call a game. Those butterflies don’t make me float anymore.
Gary, I’m mostly talking about you. I’ve never heard a color commentator be so colorful against LSU. Your diatribe against Jordan Jefferson during the Auburn game made me think you were the quarterbacks coach for LSU. We get it, you played 13 years in the National Football League.
But dude, calm down. Not everyone can be you.
Remember this, Merton and Gary — Saban isn’t getting paid by CBS. So tone down your love fest for the man during Saturday’s game, OK? Being a TV commentator, you are supposed to report in an unbiased manner. And here’s the other problem (besides you cheating on me with Timmy and Saban): Whenever I turn on your broadcast, my home state’s football team just doesn’t play well. I don’t know what it is about CBS and you two, but whenever y’all show up for a 2:30 p.m. kickoff, things just don’t go well for LSU.
Overall on CBS (2:30 p.m. kickoffs), LSU is 7-9, including 2-6 since 2008. Neither of those are good, guys.
So I’m giving you an ultimatum, Merton and Gary (or should I give you a cute pet name like Gerne? That’s fitting, since it’s close to gurney, which is what it seems I need every time I watch LSU on CBS). Anyway, it’s time for you and your CBS crew to stop coming to Baton Rouge during the day. Either give me Saturday night in Death Valley, or give me death (or just don’t come here).
It’s your call. Make the right one — though recently that’s been rather hard for both of you.
____
Contact Andy Schwehm at [email protected]
Schwhemming Around: Dear Verne and Gary: a breakup letter to CBS commentators
By Andy Schwehm
Sports Columnist
Sports Columnist
November 3, 2010