Should I always be "painting a picture" on a radio broadcast?
No, not always. Usually, but not always. Here's how to know.
It’s one of the most fundamental rules of doing play-by-play on the radio for any sport: paint a picture. Painting a vivid picture can really enhance the listener experience.
Which sounds better to you?
“Penix fires deep down the field to Odunze… caught it at the 38 and tackled at the 35! First down, Washington! Gain of 37 on the play for Rome Odunze! Listen to the crowd!”
Or…
“Penix lobs a spiral up the right sideline into man coverage… Odunze outleaps the defender to highpoint it at the 38! Dragged down at the 35! The Husky sideline erupts after Odunze picks up 37!”
Being as descriptive as possible provides the color and the emotion that makes for a great listener experience. It’s an insane challenge. To be as descriptive as possible as concisely as you can. And that challenge serves as one of the great distinguishers between the pros and the all-time greats of radio play-by-play.
But when your listener has no visual, they have absolutely zero idea what's going on unless you tell them. So, while it’s great to paint the picture, the first and foremost responsibility that you have is to make sure that the essential information is being communicated.
Chris Ferris, my former boss and the vice president of broadcasting at Learfield, always told me that if Play-by-Play 101 could be stripped down to its most basic tenant, if there was one rule that absolutely unequivocally needed to be followed to the T, it's this:
Do not leave the listener asking themselves questions. What’s the score? Who’s playing? What’s at stake? How close are we to the end of the period or the game? Who’s injured? How did we get to this point? Who’s having a big game and who’s been underwhelming? What has generated the key swings in momentum so far?
In order to keep the listener from asking themselves the frustrating, maddening questions that naturally come along with trying to follow a sporting event without being able to see it, you have to find a way to put yourself into the shoes of a person who can't see what's going on, even though you can.
It's almost the definition of empathy. You can see. They can’t. You have to try to put yourself in another person's shoes in order to know what, out of the myriad of things that you could choose to communicate at any given moment, needs to be said in this moment. Creating a hierarchy and knowing what's absolutely most important as opposed to what would be nice, but is not crucial or essential.
Often, if your biggest concern is painting a picture, you might be saying something that seems interesting to you, but is completely devoid of the context that makes it interesting to the listener. So yes, paint the picture. But do so within the necessary framework that makes the picture impactful.
That's why we fall back on certain things that we're going to say over and over again: time and score, down and distance. What's at stake in the game? What's at stake in the drive? Are there any base runners on? If so, how close are they to scoring? How good are they at scoring? These are the kind of things that you're going to need to make sure that you're communicating to the audience so that they don't feel lost or frustrated.
Think of it this way: your painted picture might be a masterpiece to you. But you need walls to hang the painting on. All those boring basics about the game that you’re tired of saying over and over? Those basics are the frame of your house. Once, you’ve got a beautifully finished living room, the painting over the mantle will pull it all together beautifully. But if you’re living in the back of the car, that painting might as well be in the trunk. It’s not doing anyone any good without the firm foundation. And there are constantly new listeners tuning in, which is why you need to constantly be resetting the basics, without being repetitive so you don’t bore those who’ve been with you all day.
One of the things that I struggle with the most in basketball is always being on top of who committed a foul. My attention is often on the player with the ball, so I'm noticing who drew the foul, not necessarily who committed the foul. But a listener needs to know. And when that foul’s committed, the number of fouls that player has accumulated so far in the game is crucial. Once they get to five, they're disqualified. So that's a way more relevant piece of information than almost anything else the moment a foul occurs. Who’s it on? How many do they have? Is that likely to affect their participation, and if so, how does that affect the teams and the way the game is played.
None of that paints a super vivid picture per se. Now, doing it in the most descriptive way is always better. You can mention the player hanging his head in disappointment after picking up his second foul in the first few minutes of the game, or the coach rubbing his temples in frustration or staring off into the rafters as he contemplates the best lineup moving forward. But do not paint a picture at the expense of the information that leaves a listener asking questions.
In football, another example is: players come in and out of the ball game on both sides of the ball, almost every snap. Certainly most snaps where the teams huddle up. So, given that once I've set the line of scrimmage, do I constantly want to be saying who's coming in and who's going out? That can be a little overbearing for the listener, and might not be the most pertinent information to convey if I’ve only got 10 seconds to set the play.
I need to kind of develop a sense or a feel for how good the players are, how relevant they are to their team and the situation, before I rattle off their names just because they shuttled in. Use a filter, rather than simply describing every single time a line change occurs within the wide receiver room.
Finally, some of the most goosebump inducing calls I've ever heard in my entire life were extraordinarily simple. It's not reinventing the wheel. In the biggest moments, it’s definitely not how clever you can be. It’s how you deliver the basics. It's Bob Rondeau simply delivering the good news: “Touchdown, Washington!” Harry Kalas: “The Philadelphia Phillies have won the World Series!”
We’re not all Vin Scully. In fact, none of us are Vin Scully, and we shouldn't try to be. We should try to do the job of being ourselves and getting across the essential information the best way we possibly can, and then colorfully filling in the pictures with our personalities when we have the opportunity. So, if it's second and seven, and if it's a run for three or four yards and your processor is up to the challenge, then yeah, go ahead and get creative and paint that picture and talk about how the offensive coordinator slapped his play card and disgust because he was frustrated that the block didn't occur which could have sprung the play. Paint that picture, baby. And be as creative as you can being the best you you can be. But when it comes down to the bare essentials of your job, make sure the listener is not asking themselves questions out of frustration because you did not update them with the most important information to follow the story of the game.