March 23, 2026
I learned something new about myself last week, no small achievement when you’re 75. I learned that I no longer have the appetite for public controversy, even though I thrived on it during my long broadcast career.
What I told Howard Eskin on his podcast back on March 11 was nothing new to anyone who reads this blog every week – or, to be more accurate, any week – because I have been hammering away at the soft local sports media obsessively for the past couple of years.
In fact, even my indictment of the media on Howard’s show seemed to slip quietly into the ether until Spike Eskin tweeted his disappointment at the two old goats (in this case, definitely not GOATS) showing no respect for WIP a week ago. Suddenly, we were relevant again.
Howard seemed fine with this new twist. I was not.
My days of crusading for truth, justice and the American way are over. I may be dumb enough to find new ways to get into trouble, but my only goal right now is to pay back all of the listeners who were so loyal to me for so long. Getting into public skirmishes with media people who are too sensitive to handle the truth solves nothing,
One question that came up during the storm of media attention that followed Spike’s tweet was why I don’t have my own podcast, or why I don’t write for a website that people actually read. (Actually, I am a regular on The TV Show podcast with Rhea Hughes and our host Jay Black.)
The truth is simple. I have accepted, and will continue to accept, no money for my sports opinions. (I hear you, critics. I’m finally charging what they’re worth.) I made enough money over 50 years in the media to cover a comfortable retirement.
The only reason I write this blog is because I still have things to say and I love writing. Some loyal listeners still email me regularly, and they seem happy with this arrangement. The targets of my vitriol have expressed no dissent, probably because they aren’t aware that I’m still alive and bitching, here or anywhere.
So, in the sincere hope that this is the last time I address the softening of the Philadelphia sports media, I want to be as clear as my declining mind can manage.
First of all, none of my criticism has been directed at the station that gave me the life I live, WIP. I have made it clear that I don’t listen to the station now because it would feel too much like working again, second-guessing the topic choices of hosts and the byplay with callers.
The one exception I have made is my continued public disgust at the WIP promotion in 2024 engineered by my former intern Jack Fritz which led to fans giving Trea Turner a standing ovation late in the season when he was batting .230 while reaping the early rewards from a $300-million contract.
In one sense, I guess the promotion worked. Turner started playing better after the supportive cheer. But, in the eyes of someone who helped to build the WIP brand, I remain appalled that the station became a cheerleader for an overpaid and underperforming player.
WIP was always, at least to me, a reflection of a sports-fan base that rewarded success and vilified failure. I would like to believe it will always be that.
Second, I see the sports landscape differently now that I’m just a fan, and I am convinced the media is taking the easy way out, avoiding the toughest questions and the boldest opinions because it makes life so much more comfortable for them.
There are two major opinionmakers who are exempt from this criticism. My partner, Rhea Hughes, is still boldly pressing forward with the kind of take-no-prisoners style that popularized our show. How do I know this? Because I talk to Rhea almost every day. She still fears nothing.
And then there’s Marcus Hayes, who has been under attack for most of his career because he provides his unvarnished take on what’s happening in Philadelphia sports. Being a strongly opinionated columnist in a world filled with apologists is harder than ever, I’m sure. Undaunted, Marcus continues to respect his audience.
With one other exception – which I will name shortly – the media no longer speaks for me, as a critical fan, and – based on email feedback – it is letting down many of the fans who were the main reason for the success of our show over 33 years.
The best example I can give is the way Rob Thomson has been coddled for the past four years, failing repeatedly in the playoffs despite working with several of the best rosters the Phillies have ever had.
I am still waiting for someone – anyone – to chastise the manager for removing Zack Wheeler in game one of the divisional playoffs in 2024 while the ace was pitching the game of his life, a one-hit shutout, and winning, 1-0, when he was removed after seven innings.
Why? Because Wheeler’s pitch count was over 100. This is robotic insanity at the highest level, at least to me. The whole point of pitch counts is to preserve the health of pitchers so they will be available for the biggest games. As it turned out, Wheeler never got to pitch again that season because the Phillies lost the game and the series.
If I seemed obsessed with this decision, it’s because I am. It is the single-worst strategic blunder of the past half-century here, for sure – comparable only to the decision to leave Greg Luzinski in left field rather than replace him with a better defender, Jerry Martin.
That gaffe cost the Phillies the 1977 playoffs, and it remains a point of reference all of these years later. Thomson’s decision to pull Wheeler was even worse, by all logical standards. But it will never receive the same acknowledgement because the media has ignored it.
Are they now hypnotized by the analytics age? Are they no longer able to reflect the sentiments of the fans they serve? Or are they just looking for the path of least resistance?
This leads to the third reason why the Philly sports media has gone soft, and it is the most frustrating to me. The teams now, more than ever, have been flexing their muscles in an effort to control their message. Unlike in my era, it doesn’t appear that the media outlets, for the most part, are pushing back.
How do I know this? I experienced the pressure first-hand after an especially critical segment I did with one of the third media person left who haven’t surrendered to the bullying, Dan Sileo, who has a nationally syndicated radio show and is a former NFL player.
After the harsh segment, the Eagles went straight to Dan’s boss to apply leverage to either soften the host’s positions or, preferably, to get rid of him.
To its credit, iHeart Radio – Dan’s employer – didn’t relent, and Sileo remains one of the most honest and committed critics regularly discussing the Eagles.
How many other media outlets have buckled under the pressure of the mighty Eagles? My bet is, a lot of them. In this era when the bottom line is the only factor, making an enemy of the Eagles is probably not a smart business decision.
But it’s the right one if the team chooses to play the role of a bully. Even today, the definition of journalism (and all sports commentary) is to hold people accountable.
I will always do this, even in a small venue like my website blog. I learned this lesson at the best journalism school in the world, Columbia University, and it was effective enough to make me a finalist for the Pulitzer Prize in 1986.
Of course, no one wants to hear the same complaint, over and over. That’s why I’m trying to quit my obsession with the timid, toothless coverage of the sports teams in a city that remains as passionate about sports as ever.
You will read no more here about how soft our media have become. All it does is activate a social-media machine that allows anonymous cowards to spray their venom without regard for consequences.
I have no appetite for this stuff anymore.
I will let the words above serve as the epitaph for my noble but futile battle to keep the teams and the players honest.
At some point you have to accept the fact that the battle is lost, and I have finally reached that point.
Oh, I will keep bitching, keep shading every player who is stealing money and every coach or manager who is disrespecting the fans.
But Kenny Rogers sang it best. You gotta know when to hold ‘em, and know when to fold ‘em.
When it comes to the soft media, there’s no point in fighting a battle that can no longer be won. It’s a different world now, whether I like it or not.
In fact, when I did an interview last week with Rob Tornoe of the Inquirer, I said something that made him laugh.
I said the next time I appear in the pages (or on the website) of his newspaper, I hope it will be in the obit section.