Andy Rooney Never Had to Do This

Thirty-six hours ago, my cell phone rang.  Or chimed.  Or whatever cell phones do.

It was Todd Anderson on the other end, the brains behind “Poker Night in America,” the new show which debuted last week on CBS Sports.

“We want you to film a segment which we’re going to insert at the end of each show,” Todd said.

Great, I thought.  What does he want to film?

“We want to film you,” Todd insisted.  “We want this to be like an Andy Rooney piece at the end of 60 Minutes.”

Wait a bleeping minute.  Isn’t Andy Rooney dead?

he idea was for me to close each 30-minute show with a two-minute rant.  About whatever.  Just turn on the cameras, and let things roll.  Trouble is, I never do anything in two minutes.  That’s my opening monologue, not a complete skit.

Todd insisted that we shoot this immediately, which is pretty difficult to do when I’ve worked 41 straight days non-stop, often 15 hours a day.  When I say I have no free time, I mean zippo.  Don’t cue any violins here.  Hey, I love what I do.  But the idea of putting any more on a plate that’s already full and intellectually taxing to the point where I’m drinking Robitussin for breakfast and a bottle of wine for the winner is almost too much to bear.

When do you need the first segment, I asked.

“Tomorrow,” he said.

Huh?

As in….the next day?  Is this how Andy Rooney worked?

“Wait, there’s more,” Todd insisted.  “We need you to shoot the first four segments, and we need them all tomorrow.”

This is a fucking joke, right?

Just to get this straight.  I’m going to going on national television in front of a quarter-million people in a dream gig, but with absolutely no prep time?

“That’s about it,” Todd said.  “You can do it.”

Well, I do like challenges.  But this one was pressure beyond belief.  I sang in a high school musical once, and nearly shit the stage for three minutes.  Now, I’m supposed to ball out four Andy Rooney pieces?  I know this is CBS and all which is pretty damned cool, but that’s the only commonality.  Not only that, but this is all happening right on the cusp of the busiest World Series of Poker time of year, which is the start of the Main Event Championship.  It would be like asking Anderson Cooper in the middle of filming to take a break and write a novel.

When am I supposed to be there and start filming, I asked.

“Tomorrow night.”

With that, every available brain cell that wasn’t focused on the WSOP, and there weren’t many left, was focused on scripting four different story ideas.  Not only that, I don’t really like being in front of the camera.  Never have, contrary to what some might think.  It’s harder to do than people realize.  Proper delivery requires timing, intonation, and an art form that I haven’t fully developed yet.  I love writing.  But speaking off the cuff and saying something that’s worthy of the attention of viewers who could be watching any one of 800 channels on Sunday nights is not just challenging, but next to impossible.

“Just go on camera and say whatever,” Todd said.  Who does he think I am, Jerry Seinfeld?

Then again, trying the craziest idea imaginable is what we’re all about.  And so earlier tonight, I ran up to a hotel suite that was set up with lights, a camera, and action.  I became the action.

I have no idea how this will look or will turn out.  Like much of what we’re trying to accomplish at “Poker Night in America,” this is trial by error.  Organized chaos.  Madness.  We’re willing to show what really happens behind the scenes because this is often the funniest part of poker.

Andy Rooney had no idea what he was missing.

READ: PNIA Behind the Scenes