A special weekend double-header to honor the grand finale of Season 1 of “Stump the Schwab,” followed by our regularly scheduled column. Don’t say we never gave you anything, okay?

By David Scott
BSMW Columnist

The Schwab for All (Sporting) Seasons

He is you and he is me. He’s the guy in front of you at Dunkin’ Donuts and the guy behind you too. He’s the everyman but there are few men like him. Howard “Howie” Schwab is, as his name seems to suggest, sort of a shloomp. But take that in the right way: he’s a lovable, huggable, informational shloomp of the highest order. A know-it-all that doesn’t need to flaunt it. A guy who’s good to have around not only because he can probably name the last 20 Heisman winners, in order, but because he’s real enough to remember the nameless and the faceless that he meets as well.
He cleans up nice, sure. But he’s TV the way Michael Moore is TV – the words and knowledge make up for the lack of that good TV hair or that great TV smile. Not so long ago, despite overflowing praise and recognition from his peers, he was faceless - if not nameless.
And now, after years of dishing assists to Dickie V, he’s got his own TV show that has not only served as summer filler for the past five weeks, but deserves to be put into the regular rotation at ESPN, or maybe more aptly on ESPN Classic.
Because that is just what The Schwab is – a classic, right down to the throwback jerseys the Baldwin, NY-native wears for each episode of “Stump the Schwab” (season finale tonight, Friday 8/20, at 7:30 on ESPN and replayed in other slots). Touted as ESPN’s very first researcher, The Schwab, 43, has been feeding tidbits and minutia to Dick Vitale, Dan Patrick and numerous other ESPN mega-stars almost from his very first day in Bristol, 17 years ago this month. “I’m confident I’m a lifer here,” says Schwab, whose prior life included five years at College & Pro Football Newsweekly and regular contributions to New York’s WFAN and its long-time host, Jody McDonald. “This place is special. When certain columnists bash ESPN, it bothers me. It just does. I think Worldwide Leader is a legit claim for what we do and who we are.
“This show, I think, says a lot about how many good people there are behind the scenes here.”
Fair enough. But more than anything, the show shows why Schwab has been called everything from a “sports trivia legend” to “ESPN’s walking encyclopedia” and has even had his birthplace challenged by former co-worker, Larry Beil: “He’s not from this world,” Beil told a reporter.
If it happened in sports over the last quarter century, The Schwab knows it – cold, and probably in chronological order to boot. His range is much deeper than 25 years of course, but with ESPN’s desired demographic, anything before the mid-‘70s is equivalent to Peloponnesian history (and in that case, it’s highly likely, The Schwab can tell you who won the Peloponnesian League batting title in 427 B.C.).

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It wasn’t his idea, trust him. “But I always felt I was a team player,” The Schwab says. So, when the network’s executive vice president of programming and production, Mark Shapiro, called The Schwab in for a meeting, Shapiro didn’t have to do much convincing. Just explaining.
“Are you (expletive deleted) kidding me?” The Schwab asked when Shapiro had finished telling him a concept had been developed where contestants would vie to “Stump the Schwab” in return for tickets to major sporting events, and ultimately a potential opportunity to work as an ESPN researcher. (OH BOY!!! Maybe next season the concepters can think of a way to find a janitor for the South Campus in Bristol!)
Shapiro wasn’t kidding – TV execs rarely do – but he also wasn’t mortgaging his brand’s reputation on a pudgy, graying-goateed fella who hankers for Hot Pockets Brand Stuffed Sandwiches (hint, hint to the Chef America folks who make The Schwab’s food of choice).
Shapiro suggested a soft, five-week commitment to be aired during the network’s slowest – and most experimentally-enhanced – season, the Summer. (One mid-afternoon this week, for instance, ESPN took viewers inside an actual!, real-life!, LSU football practice! Is that really programming, or is it just filling time between SportsCenters? You decide.)
Further, Shapiro and his “concept developers” were wise enough to give The Schwab a qualified host to work with, in the form Stuart Scott. Scott shepherds the show along and, to his credit, holds back enough so the 35-minute cross between “Win Ben Stein’s Money” and (ESPN’s defunct) “Two Minute Drill” never becomes “Stump the Stu.” All the while, The Schwab plays his man-of-few-words role to a T. Still, by the third and final day of taping earlier this summer, Howard “Howie” Schwab had fully embraced his new first name and his role as “THE Schwab.”
“Yes, I had my own dressing room,” Schwab admits, almost embarrassed by the attention and ‘royal treatment’ he received during the NYC studio filming. Usually, he is the man behind “The Talent,” now he was “The Talent” himself. “I only asked for three things the whole time. One, I needed some deodorant at one point. Right Guard. Spray. Another time, I needed eye drops.
“And then on one of the days of taping, it was about 9:30 in the morning and I must’ve said something like, ‘Boy, I could go for a sandwich and the next thing I knew, food services had made me a barbecue sandwich.”
Really now, what says stardom more than meat in a spicy sauce on a bun before 10 ?
Well, how about 385 pictures of a man who is maybe best described as “portly, but shorter”?
“Yep, 385 pictures at a photo shoot in a New York studio,” says Schwab, ever the fact-checker/info man. “Three hundred and eighty-five. All kinds of poses, doing all different sports and movements. Just sitting at a table. Standing. Bending. In fact, the last shot I did was ala ‘Playboy,’ sort of all spread out on the table. We had fun with it.”
Fortunately, the shots (sans the Pam Anderson tribute) were then stylized and used for the show’s introduction (”Can you baffle our Big Man?”) and, most prominently, as the show’s fantastic red and black Howie silhouette logo, ala Jerry West for the NBA or Michael Jordan for his Jordan Brand. “What it (the logo) is, is what I am,” Schwab says proudly, vastly understating the depth and breadth of a man who because of the show, now finds himself recognized as near as his West Hartford Dunkin’ Donuts and as far as Fenway Park. “A couple of kids came up to me as I was getting my iced coffee the other day and they said, ‘Hey, aren’t you The Schwab?’”
On another occasion, while he was taking part in the company’s “ESPN the Weekend” festivities in Orlando, Schwab found himself signing a hat a fan had passed to both Jim Kelly and Joe Namath before him. “I was just thinking, ‘this is odd.’”
Oddly appropriate, we’d say.

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He’s not sure if “Stump the Schwab” will get renewed, but he’s on board if it does. Remember, The Schwab’s a team player. With some minor adjustments and a wider, deeper contestant search, the show could have real staying power. (Schwab was “beat” in one episode by Curt Spear of Woodbridge, Virginia because of a questionable tie-breaker system, “But that’s fine. Good. Let him go to the event he gets to go to (the ESPYs). Go. Have a good time,” The Schwab says, minutely bitter but mostly good-natured. “The tie-breaker question (for those compiling Schwab Trivia at home) was about the Expos Rookie of the Year in the 70s and I knew it was between Andre Dawson and Tim Raines and I thought it was Dawson (it was), but I said Raines. You always should go with your first instinct.”) “Stump” is not quite “PTI,” but it sure as heck is better than watching college kids learn blocking assignments in Baton Rouge.
It won’t matter in the long run. The Schwab isn’t about to go big-time on anybody - even if he becomes the next Ben Stein (The Schwab is much more likable). His show could run as long as “Wheel of Fortune” and he’d still just be The Schwab, helping Vitale answer some “V-mail” for Dick’s website or compiling ESPY facts and trivia.
Sure, he’s got a logo, a theme song and his own dressing room. With a little luck, maybe he’ll get an endorsement deal (have we mentioned he likes Hot Pockets?). But there’s one thing you know if you’ve met Howie - he’ll always be “The Schwab.”
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And now. . .
Scott’s Shots, in its entirety and brought to you without commercial interruption by the Hummer 2

By David Scott
BSMW Columnist

A New Low on The Deuce
The inexplicably awful “Cold Pizza” on ESPN2 reached its lowest moment yesterday morning when still-too-perky “Mold Pizza” hostess Kit Hoover actually wasted a segment interviewing the Olympics’ Biggest Moron, Bar None. In giving air time to an “event crasher” who managed to dive off a platform in a tutu with a .com’s name written on his chest, the morning show sent us directly into mourning. The bozo actually did the interview shirtless and again had the .com’s name emblazoned for all three of MP’s viewers to see. Further, they gave him some semblance of credibility, allowed him to complain of being beaten by Greek police AND the opportunity to plug an album he’ll be releasing. Clearly, he wasn’t beaten enough by the Greek cops – he was still able to talk to Kitty Kat. We liked it a lot better when The Deuce gave us some sexy hardbodies working out on a beach to accompany our Cap’n Crunch.

Mr. Smith Goes to Bristol
Scott’s Shots failed in its initial attempt to get a few telephone words with Going, Going, Gone, Globie, Michael Smith. But we’ll keep trying. In the meantime, read over Tuesday’s SPECIAL Scott’s Shots entry again. Especially if you spell your name, J-O-E S-U-L-L-I-V-A-N.

Leave the Media Crit. to Us
Yesterday’s NESN/Boston Globe Sportsplus/minus was way more minus than plus. Well-intentioned, but still Babbling Bob Lobel attempted to lead his panel of Gordon Edes, Kevin Paul Dupont Pavilion and John Valentin through a discussion of the “new media world” in Boston sports. Val, although getting better in shaping his thoughts still struggles with having an original one. KPD might very well have fallen asleep during the slow-moving, rudderless discussion and Gordo appeared to be counting the exotic flowers on his colorful shirt. Despite a revealing boston.com poll that counted 4,700-plus responses and discovered 70 percent of the respondents don’t think the “Boston sports media report(s) fairly on the area’s pro sports teams,” the conversation never got out of first gear. At the very least, it’s disturbing to know that only 30 percent of the voters trust their sports coverage. So much for the “accepting public.”

Between the Lines of Pages
Far be it for Scott’s Shots to understand the mysterious ways in which Basketball Bob Ryan is given his daily Athens assignments. We only know what we read, for the most part. So, here’s his Monday-Thursday column topics: USA Basketball, USA Basketball, USA Basketball and USA Archery. Way to diversify with your lone columnist on-site, savvy Green Boxers!
Now, of course basketball is what Bob does best and he does it better than most. But if the Globe really wants to be the “Olympic Paper of Record,” which it appears to want very badly, shouldn’t the No. 1 guy get out and see a few more things than Lebron, Allen and Larry Brown? Tuesday, for instance, it might have been nice to see Ryan’s take on Michael HypePhelps failing in his Spitz quest? Or how about yesterday, instead of the Wyoming archer, Ryan treated us to his take on the Rhode Island boxer, Jason Estrada? (Geography was always a weakness for SS, but I do believe RI is closer to Boston than WY.) Competitor (the two papers do still compete don’t they?) Yellow Boxer boxing guy, George Kimball took the Providence Pugilist to task for his showboating with “‘with that Pazienza crap’”– it would have been a nice contrast to get Boxing Bob’s take on the super heavyweight’s debut Athens performance. We’ll give Bob the benefit of the doubt and assume he’s taking in Estrada’s next, more challenging fight, on Monday. But the point remains: it’s no use to send your No. 1 guy to THE Games and only have him write on Naismith’s Game. . . Kimball, by the way, buried what may have been the most intriguing part of Estrada’s easy win when he mentioned, in the third to last graf of his quote-heavy column that 61-year-old “Robert Mittleman, the boxing agent and convicted fight fixer” was with the Etsrada contingent and wearing a “bright-red Jason Estrada t-shirt.” It might just be us, but if an Olympian – and presumptive pro-in-the-making – is already associating with fight-fixers, that would seem worthy of more than just a buried mention. . .Tuesday afforded Scott’s Shots the opportunity to catch up with all-time Good Guy, Kevin McNamara of the Providence Journal. KMac has been filling in quite ably on some Patriots coverage and this weekend, heads to the Little League World Series to cover the Lincoln, RI team’s quest at the LLWS. If anyone is going to capture the emotion of being a boy living a dream, it’s the multi-talented KMac. He hangs his hat on college basketball for the ProJo, but his versatility is vast – be sure to check out his stuff this weekend. You won’t be disappointed. . .Anyone know where Norman Chad has been lately? Check Latrobe, PA and then Divorce Court. Come back, Norm, The Globe Sports turns its lonely eyes to you. . . And yet another $1.25 that bastahd owes me! We’re up to $119.33 with interest accrued. . . Sportswriters never get to use accrued, and let me tell you, it feels pretty good. . .There’s no comfort in knowing the Whiney Lip, Mike Lupica, likes the Sox chances if they get to October. None whatsoever. Here’s Lupica’s most annoying line from yesterday’s column in the NY Daily News (mind you, it’s doubly-annoying because it’s just the kind of line you can hear Lippy screech as part of a “Sports Reporters’ parting shot): “. . . The most dangerous opponent is the one they (the Yankees) might never have to face. . .” I read that line and the graf it was in, a good five or six times before resigning myself to the fact that this guy has been fooling a whole lot of people for a whole lot of years. It proves again that Shaughnasty is the lesser evil of our two cities’ MACs (Most Annoying Columnist) . . .Believe it or not, that might have been another a Danny Boy compliment. I’m starting to become fair and balanced after years of being foul and off-center.

Shirl on the Olympics
“Spain? Spain plays basketball? And they’re doing well? And the USA is eking out wins?” The Shirl asked over scallion pancakes and steamed dumplings on Tuesday evening. “Pass the hoisin sauce. And tell Larry Brown to shut up and coach. I’m disgusted.” The Shirl: Not getting bitter. Getting better.

Olympics
Jimmy Roberts stood live at Olympia to close out NBC’s Tuesday night prime time coverage and for the sickos like Scott’s Shots that actually saw that moment, the overriding emotion had to be: That’s it? We used to tailgate on more pristine and well-kept grass and dirt during the Rene Ingoglia Era at UMass. . . Roberts appearance harkened back to those days, some 1,600 years ago, when a young Jim McKay did his stand up from in front of all the naked, ancient Greeks. Those Greeks made some good TV back then. Roone Arledge was running the show for the Mycenaean Broadcast Corp. if I’m not mistaken. . .At first, we were amazed that Olympia Sports could get such prominent billing for one of its Greek stores. We knew they sponsored Red Sox pre-games, but the Olympics?. . .To me, Craig Sager is nothing without his TNT warbdrobe. NBC should at least let the guy wear a flourescent golf shirt for halftime interviews. . .How many more days of Bob Costas?

Hoops
At last check, Marcus Banks was still, once again, a Celtic. We like to keep you informed of the confusing issues facing our sporting society these days. . . How do you supposed Stephen Angry Smith is playing in Greece? More importantly, can his yelling and screaming and carrying on, ever be translated into Greek? Or, for that matter, English? They should put him and the father from “My Big Fat Greek Wedding” in a room together with a piece of baklava and see who comes out alive.

Rants and Raves
We’re all for anything that puts Summer Sanders on TV more often, but Fox Sports Net’s “The Sports List” is barely worth the Summer time it affords. Even the usually bubbly Sanders seems to faking the smiles and yuks for this complete waste of viewing time. It’s enough that ESPN has been force-feeding us its “25″ lists, but “The Sports List” has the audacity to slide in commentary from various “celebrities” and athletes ala E! or VH1. Yesterday, in chronicling the 10 best homeruns of all-time, the Doctor from “Loveline” chimed in on Carlton Fisk’s dinger. We don’t listen to the Doctor’s views about love, why on Earth would we listen to his views on Pudge? Save yourself, Summer. Come to Hull. . . It might not have the characters and full frontal acting of “The Sopranos” , but Denis Leary’s “Rescue Me” on FX is a more than fulfilling substitute for the HBO series that seems to run on an Olympic schedule (new episodes once every four years). Wednesday night’s offering was easily the best of the debut season and a large (large) part of that was Lenny Clarke’s turn as the pill-popping, booze-swilling, whore-sharing Uncle Teddy. You haven’t seen good TV until you’ve seen Clarke in a white wife-beater, boxers and black dress socks. No matter how odd that sounds, trust me. Charles Durning, although always seeming to reprise his “Best Little Whorehouse” role, was also a stand-out. As Uncles go on TV, Clarke’s Teddy is right up there with Uncle Junior. . .Regular readers of Scott’s Shots know this space is far from the bitter platform some of my e-mailers would paint it as. That said, it was an absoulte abomination when the Globe’s Thursday “Life at Home” section featured a few outdoor showers of note, but neglected the masterpiece Scott’s Shots himself built at the very first Hull Seaside Shanty he occupied. True, we’re not legally allowed within 100 yards of the prior inhabitance, but we could have given photog Julia Cumes directions to the combo Zen-meditation hut/outdoor shower. This beauty was a three-season shower with a nautical theme, an overhanging candelabra, sound system and plenty of room for two (or more) showerers. The coup-de-grace was an observation window just above the hut that offered sneak peeks at some of Scott’s Shots favorite female visitors. But that’s between you and me, right?. . . There’s been a Beano Cook sighting (yesterday’s Hot List on ESPNEWS) and it appears Beano ate the Ghost of the Fat Frank Layden. How did this guy get a lifetime contract at ESPN? And where’s mine?

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