So well connected is Cosell that he must constantly walk a personal tightrope, inasmuch as so many of his more sensitive stories and editorials involve pals. "In my own mind, I never sacrificed a truth in the name of friendship," he says stoutly, knowing he is being scrutinized especially carefully now because even some of his admirers think his friendship with Davis has colored his views about Davis' moving the Raiders from Oakland.
That kind of insinuation wounds Cosell. He is thin-skinned. He really would like to be Will Rogers, beloved, Mister Softee. But attacks upon his journalism strike deeper than those that go only to his style or personality. Monday Night Football, for example, may have enhanced his fame the most, and Cosell's light, like Tinker Bell's, would go out if people didn't applaud him upon that fluffy stage, week after week. But he has no pretense about the meaning of such accolades. Monday Night Football is no more than modern vaudeville, or his version of the old Chautauqua circuit. Cosell doesn't even cite it among his major accomplishments.
Ah, but by contrast, "Sportsbeat will be my legacy," he says. That's his TV sports news show, and it is indeed an enterprising and significant piece of journalism. However, many faithful Monday Night viewers probably don't even know it exists, because ABC buries it on Saturday afternoons amid the tenpins and Kelvinator races. But no matter: Sportsbeat is Cosell's pride and joy. He wouldn't let them call it Howard Cosell's Sportsbeat or something like that, which would trumpet his name for ratings. No, the show is his bequest.
He will, of course, be remembered for other things. Most extraordinary among them: the fact that anyone in sports, let alone a noncombatant, could achieve such prominence. It would not be fair to say that Cosell has transcended the games and the stars he has covered, but it is quite correct to say that by now, to most people, he and sports are inseparable. Howard Cosell has come to stand for sports in the latter part of the 20th century in the U.S.
To belabor the point that he is of television is to miss the main point, too. In many ways he is anti-television. Dan Rather pulling on a sweater and thereby winning a whole new chunk of the populace: That's television. President Reagan's press conferences: That's television. Keith Jackson is television. So are Kermit the Frog, instant replay and the Fiesta Bowl. Good Morning America is television to a fare-thee-well. But not Cosell. Oh, to be sure, he learned to use television, as before that he learned how to use his voice. The trick that he figured out is how to look out of the tube, to grab the viewer, to shake him. Most everybody else in TV thinks the idea is just to be passive, to let people look in, at them, on them. No wonder we tire so quickly of most television people.
No, first and foremost, Howard Cosell is sports. There are all these people, these fans, who claim that when Cosell does a game on television, they turn off the sound on the TV and listen to the radio broadcast. Oh, sure. You probably know critics in your neighborhood who vow the same thing. Well, too bad for them. Don't they understand? Cosell isn't television. He's not audio. Howard Cosell is sports in our time. Feel sorry for the people who turn off the sound. The poor bastards missed the game.