The Ouster of Gary Koch and Roger Maltbie Is a Small Part of a Larger Shift in TV Sports

Just look at the NFL on Amazon Prime to see sports' streaming revolution, John Hawkins writes, and how its grip on younger viewers will lead to younger voices.

Tony Romo gets excited. Not only because CBS is paying him $17 million a year to talk about a sport he’s been playing since he was a kid, but due to the sheer buzz that engulfs a man who shares his knowledge with 25 million people every Sunday afternoon in the fall. If passion inspires performance, Romo’s zeal and energy level define his success as an NFL analyst perhaps more than the 13 seasons he spent with the Dallas Cowboys.

Cris Collinsworth was cut from the same fine fabric. For all the hours spent dissecting film and studying the numbers, it’s a connection with the audience that matters most when calling any sporting event for a major network. John Madden did it with his verbal histrionics—primitive but authentic and completely understandable. Romo and Collinsworth present themselves to viewers as unabashed enthusiasts who couldn’t wait for the game to start and might be a bit sad when it’s over.

The best way to create a positive impression is to sound like you really want to be there.

What does that have to do with last week’s announcement that Gary Koch and Roger Maltbie will no longer be part of NBC’s golf coverage? Maybe nothing, although the word “refresh” has been used to rationalize the departures of two of the longest-tenured, single-network voices in the industry. Both men made it well past the standard retirement age before NBC informed them of its decision—Maltbie is 71, Koch turns 70 next week—branding this personnel move with a similar identity to CBS’ dismissal of Gary McCord and Peter Kostis in late 2019.

Roger Maltbie is a victim of a network "refresh" more than any decline in ability :: Ron Chenoy/USA TODAY Sports

None of the four broadcasters did anything in particular to warrant losing their jobs. There was no obvious drop-off in their observational or communicative skills, which is to say that age and its effect on ability could not have provided a reasonable explanation for either purge. They were simply the results of judgment made by network executives, an invisible yet all-empowered source that leans heavily on subjectivity to decide what’s best for the overall product, and as the 2007 Coen brothers movie made imperfectly clear, this is no country for old men.

What also applies here, however, is a generational shift of the visual medium and the once-indisputable territory of those networks as a whole. Although streaming remains in its relative infancy, its grip on younger viewers has earned the attention of every corner-office necktie in the business. Do these heads of state worry about tomorrow? Of course, but not without thinking they still control the entire landscape. CBS has Paramount, NBC has Peacock, both of which are promoted tirelessly by the parent operation during programming on their incumbent resource.

Amazon Prime Video recently began streaming the NFL’s Thursday offering on an exclusive, weekly basis—no longer does it rely on Fox from a production standpoint in what was previously a joint telecast. If the Good Ship Goodell is willing to adopt a progressive mindset and alter its parameters to entice a “less seasoned” audience, doesn’t that speak volumes about the overall future of watching sports from home?

In adherence with the gravitational pull of youth, Prime’s pregame/postgame shows are a bit more boisterous and less formal than those presented by the NFL’s other partners. It’s not so much that all younger viewers prefer commotion over comatose or won’t watch something unless it caters to their irreparably shortened attention span, but the mentality has changed because viewing habits have changed.

Tradition has become a dying instinct in TV’s increasingly tumultuous universe. Gary Koch and Roger Maltbie are merely the latest casualties—two guys who did a nice job for a long time and were rewarded for their contributions until the need for change finally outweighed their value to the presentation. If life ain’t fair, television takes that adage to a sobering extreme.

The good news is that you were on for 20 or 30 years.

The bad news is that you’re not anymore.

Far beyond their unfiltered affection for football, Romo and Collinsworth remind us every week of how crucial the color commentator is to the quality of the viewing experience. They come in exceptionally well prepared, which gives them the background (if not the talent) to diagnose what you just saw barely two seconds after you saw it. They also get three hours or more to showcase their skills, holding the floor to themselves the same way a tour guide might escort you through the world’s largest museum.

Auxiliary golf announcers such as Koch and Maltbie are confined to much shorter increments—perhaps 15 seconds to describe one shot before passing the action to someone else. They really weren’t expected to wow viewers with their insight, nor were they put in positions where they could wander off the reservation with a flamboyant comment or emotionally charged reaction.

Neither guy seemed to be wired for such theatrical behavior, anyway. Both simply performed their tasks to an admirable degree of consistency, which was good enough for a while. Until change developed a mind of its own.