Let’s just cut to the chase. Pat McAfee is a freak of nature. He is a goateed gorilla escaped from its cage, a tank-topped terror wreaking havoc on the mild-mannered world of sports, a boisterous bull with ESPN as its China Shop.
He is like Donny and Marie – a little bit country and a little bit Rock ‘n Roll. McAfee is part bumpkin and part brilliant, part reckless and part raconteur, part simpleton and part savant. With his NFL punting background and redneck personae, he is equal parts Ray Guy and Larry the Cable Guy.
Call him what you want, but ESPN’s Pat McAfee Show and the host for whom it is named is a TV miracle. First of all, McAfee was a punter for the Indianapolis Colts from 2009-2016. Not many special teams players, least of all punters, have made a post-career impact in media. And I’m not going to lie to you, it’s taken me a while, but I’m sold on him.
I was skeptical at the jump, totally ready to dismiss McAfee as just another dude trying to be different – a poser acting tough to stick it to the sports media establishment. To many, he may still be that. Depending on your perspective, the Pat McAfee experience is a mixture of everything that is good or bad in sports.
I am leaning toward the former. Give McAfee credit. He is not only thriving now, but mark my words, he is going to change the look and feel of sports talk television moving forward. Moreover, McAfee is doing this at ESPN, a bastion of original personalities who predated him.
Stephen A. Smith on First Take, Peyton and Eli Manning on the ManningCast, Chris Berman and Tom Jackson on NFL Primetime, Dan Patrick, Keith Olbermann, Rich Eisen, Stuart Scott, and Linda Cohn on SportsCenter – these and others have not only broken the sports TV mold, they forearm smashed, suplexed, and dropped the big leg on the mold, shattering it to smithereens.
I’m not ready to put a Pat McAfee in that historic pantheon of Bristol beauties, but he has actually done what almost every sports talk show aims to do. I mean, how often have you heard a host or producer say something like, “We are trying to create a show that is just like sitting around, talking sports, and having a beer with your buddies.” Innumerable shows have attempted to do this, but McAfee has literally done it.
Like Sandler in the Grown Ups movie franchise or Clooney in Ocean’s film trilogy, McAfee has grouped together a bevy of buddies to talk about the games. They may not be crushing brews on air, but it would not shock me if they each had a rack of PBR’s stashed under their desks. McAfee‘s band of brothers look like The Oak Ridge Boys circa 1976.
There is Ty Schmit, the Iowa corn-fed crony who has parlayed an internship on the McAfee show into a regular on-air slot. “Boston” Connor Campbell who clearly buys his t-shirts from that guy with the spray paint kiosk at the mall, has a mullet, and somehow is a New England Patriots’ fan.
I’m from Massachusetts and if this guy has New England ties, it has to be in or damn close to New Hampshire, where a mullet, beard, Timberland work boots, and at least one kitchen appliance on the front lawn are not only recommended, but actually the law.
Tone Digs is another cowboy swinging open the doors of this saloon. With his Stetson hat, enviable beard, and sports acumen, he is a mystical cross between Charlie Daniels and Merlin Olsen. Ex-NFL’ers Darius Butler, Chuck Pagano, and A.J. Hawk are also regulars. Ladies and gentlemen, to paraphrase the classic Oldsmobile commercial, this is not your father’s sports talk show.
McAfee’s crew is not objective. They do not wear Armani or Gucci. They do not always use the King’s English, and they don’t screw around with political correctness or conventional conversation. Don’t call Pat McAfee a game changer. That’s too easy. He’s more of a game breaker, and it’s working for him.
He not only has his own talk show, but also broke into the established group of hosts on ESPN’s College GameDay program joining the proven likes of Kirk Herbstreit, Rece Davis, Lee Corso, and Desmond Howard.
This past year, McAfee took GameDay to a new level of irreverence and absurdity. With Nick Saban waiting in the wings to join the show this season, who knows what the future holds, but the McAfee effect shook the cobwebs off of that venerable program and raised the games of the particulars.
On The Pat McAfee Show, there is a constant crawl at the bottom of the screen putting out disclaimers about content, quoting guests, providing news updates, and letting viewers know what the show is all about. The truth is, I don’t think McAfee even knows what his show is all about.
He does, however, know how to get A-list guests. Granted, many of them are ESPN colleagues like Adam Schefter and Kendrick Perkins, but they don’t seem to be on the show out of obligation. In fact, they spend most of their provided block smiling, laughing, and getting a general kick out of the original and ribald discussion.
McAfee has done what most shows only dream of doing. He has created a program that people want to join as a guest. Outside of sports, this has been accomplished by shows like Hot Ones with host Sean Evans and The Joe Rogan Experience podcast.
Agents and publicists ask, and sometimes beg, to get their celebrity clients on these popular programs. The aforementioned ManningCast on ESPN’s Monday Night Football has hit that same high note.
Thanks partly to his association with Hawk, a former Green Bay Packer, McAfee rode his exclusive interviews with former Green Bay and current Jets’ quarterback Aaron Rodgers to fame, and he has made the most of it.
Many have decried this, but that is just petty jealousy. Instead of whining about McAfee, they should be asking why Rodgers liked being on with McAfee. It was not just the presence of former teammate Hawk, but the open, honest, and relaxed nature of the show. Don’t hate, emulate.
Watching The Pat McAfee Show is almost like being hypnotized. You don’t think it can happen to you, but as you sit there, you are entranced. In fact, you really don’t know what you’re watching. There’s a punter with no sleeves, some Travis Tritt lookalike, a guy with a cowboy hat, and some dude from Iowa. Like, what the heck is this?
One aspect of The Pat McAfee Show that has been a topic of discourse is his periodic use of swear words. I get it. It’s kind of cool, daring and different, and I’m no prude. In fact, I have always believed that a well-placed cuss word can bring emphasis and humor to any discourse.
Comedian Dennis Miller is a great example of this. Hearing swears on ESPN can be startling to viewers. It can also take offended or parentally-guided eyes off the program. I don’t think the swears are necessary, but it is really up to McAfee and ESPN if the shock value is worth it.
Despite the relaxed atmosphere, I am sure that the ESPN version of The Pat McAfee Show was not just thrown together. There had to be a bevy of programmers and consultants who gathered to craft and create this program. I also have a feeling that McAfee probably told a few of these suits to go suck an egg.
Dude is riding the crest of a massive wave of success and seems to actually appreciate it. He knows he is lucky to be doing what he is doing where he is doing it. McAfee may have no sleeves, but he’s got a lot of heart. He actually cares about sports, wants to connect with people, and show them a good time.
Pat McAfee doesn’t look, act, or sound like a TV guy. Good for him, we have enough of those. This hyper hillbilly hellion is changing the face of sports talk, kicking tail, taking no prisoners, and making sports fun again.
John Molori is a weekly columnist for Barrett Sports Media. He has previously contributed to ESPNW, Patriots Football Weekly, Golf Content Network, Methuen Life Magazine, and wrote a syndicated Media Blitz column in the New England region, which was published by numerous outlets including The Boston Metro, Providence Journal, Lowell Sun, and the Eagle-Tribune. His career also includes fourteen years in television as a News and Sports Reporter, Host, Producer working for Continental Cablevision, MediaOne, and AT&T. He can be reached on Twitter @MoloriMedia.
