Feature: Media: Game On

INSIDE THE FANATIC’S studio in Bala Cynwyd, just before airtime, Mike Missanelli sits alone. Dressed in his standard uniform of jeans and a button-down shirt, the 54-year-old looks far more relaxed than when he first returned to Philadelphia sports radio two years ago. Then, he was still fine-tuning his on-air voice, which fell somewhere between Eskin’s volcanic eruptions and Anthony Gargano’s everyman banter. Early on in his new incarnation at The Fanatic, Missanelli often sounded like a guy still figuring out who he was. Now he’s leaning back in his chair, teasing topics for today’s show. Last night, he read the new biography of Harry Kalas that highlights some of the broadcast legend’s off-air indulgences, including women and booze. “I want to talk about something,” he says on the air, with a dramatic pause, “that’s a little bit uncomfortable.”

That might be a good way to describe what happened in January, when Missanelli announced on-air that he’d re-signed with The Fanatic. He didn’t reveal the terms of the deal (said to be for four years and in the mid-six figures), but the bomb he dropped was bigger than numbers. Missanelli boasted that WIP had wanted him back — to replace Eskin. (WIP senior vice president Marc Rayfield admits he exchanged e-mails and had dinner with Missanelli, but insists he never extended an offer. Missanelli’s agent, Steve Mountain, says Rayfield’s memory is failing him: “I had conversations with both stations [last summer], and WIP assured me they would take Mike back. We had a specific conversation about a ballpark [salary] figure.”)

Rayfield, Eskin and Ike Reese all insist the addition of Reese as co-host to Eskin’s program last September had nothing to do with competitive pressure from Missanelli’s show, but Eskin’s ratings have improved since Reese came on board. Multiple sources at WIP agree that’s no coincidence. “It’s the Eskin show where [The Fanatic] really made hay,” says one WIP jock. “He’s our real vulnerability. They’re trying Ike, they’re running 8,000 promotions for Eskin.” When I ask Eskin if his show is better now, with Reese, he says, “If anything, it’s just easier. I never thought about if it’s better.”

For his part, Reese is gracious when asked about the audible on-air tension between him and Eskin, who is often as condescending to his partner (“Let me teach you something about broadcasting,” Eskin recently said to him) as he is to his callers. “It wasn’t smooth sailing,” Reese admits of his first days with Eskin. “That’s how it is with two alpha males.” Eskin says the pairing is a work in progress: “You have a player who has a tendency to be on the players’ side, so we have some clear differences. My whole career has been in this business, so I understand a little more about [radio].” Before Reese was named Eskin’s wingman, Rayfield approached another ex-Eagle-turned-radio-host, Hugh Douglas, about the job. Douglas turned it down cold. “It’s a tough spot to be in,” Douglas says of Reese, a former teammate who he says has confided that the gig is taking its toll. “Everything Eskin despises about athletes, he’s the same way — arrogant, flamboyant. But if you have a different opinion from Eskin’s, you’re wrong. Nobody wants to hear you calling someone an idiot. People want an escape. You feel like you’re being browbeaten.” Even with Reese, Eskin has two fatal flaws — his favorite subject is Howard Eskin, and he isn’t fun to listen to anymore.