(Not) Ted Leitner’s Last Harangue

It’s sometime back in the ’80s. I’m in line at a 7-Eleven in Mission Beach, when the drunk in front of me looks around and recognizes me from the television news. This is right after NBC has aired The Executioner’s Song as a two-part miniseries, concluding with Gary Gilmore’s death by firing squad in a Utah prison:

Drunk: “You’re Ted Leitner, right?”

Ted: “Yeah, that’s right.”

Drunk: “Did you see that Gary Gilmore thing on TV?”

Ted: “Yes.”

Drunk: “That should have been you!”

Gosh, it’s been great being Ted—25 years with Channel 8 and KFMB Radio being an opinionated, obnoxious, abrasive pain in the ass and getting paid for it. Throw in play-by-play for the Padres, Chargers and Aztecs through the years, and that’s the most fun you can have with your clothes on.

Okay, let us get this out of the way first: I was not fired by KFMB! Do you hear me? Not fired. I know, I know, people say that all the time when they were fired. Corporations put out their phony news releases stating that Sammy Schmuck “resigned in order to pursue other professional opportunities.” Like what? Sitting on his ass waiting for the phone to ring, or typing up his résumé and then sitting and waiting for the phone to ring?

That’s the problem. Executives put out so many of these lies, it’s almost as if they start to believe their own B.S. “No, he wasn’t fired, it was merely an involuntary separation from payroll.” I’ve actually had these weasels tell me someone wasn’t fired, their position was eliminated. Big friggin’ difference. Out is out.

I’ve gotten all these telephone calls at home from wonderful, well-meaning friends and colleagues. I’m touched by their concern. But please, I don’t want to hear it one more time: “When one door closes, another opens.” “We know you’ll land on your feet.” “God has a plan for you.” Enough! One more cliché and the SDPD hostage negotiation team will be trying to talk me down from the Coronado Bridge.

Have I told you? I wasn’t fired. I swear. Scout’s honor. Please, I travel all around the country with the Padres and watch newscasts and listen to untold numbers of radio broadcasts. I know I’m talented. No brag; just fact. Like Muhammad Ali said, “If you can do it, it ain’t bragging.” I can do it. I’ve done it and had more success than I ever dreamed of when I started at $6,800 a year doing TV sports at KWTV in Oklahoma City in 1970.

So please, save the pity platitudes for those who actually have been fired. And let me say this one more time: I asked out of the remaining two years on my contract, and the good folks at KFMB let me out. And I’m not unemployed, anyway. I have a year remaining on my contract with the Padres to do the play-by-play on KOGO Radio this season, my 24th with the team. I hope it’s not presumptuous of me to think the Padres will keep me for the coming years.

The truth is, when the Padres were considering leaving KFMB after 20-plus years to move to KOGO, they did considerable market research on the matter. And they were forthcoming in telling me that a great majority of the fans said they didn’t care what station the games were on “as long as Jerry and Ted do the broadcasts.” Nothing ever warmed my broadcast cockles as much as that.

In gratitude, I will share with you one of my favorite moments in Padres broadcasting history. Keep in mind that Jerry Coleman and I can’t hear the commercials as they play back at the station between innings. So Jerry doesn’t know that the final commercial in the break is his endorsement of a local construction/remodeling company, with him saying, “They’re wonderful, efficient, you hardly know they’re in the house, and they clean up everything, every day, when they’re done for the day!” During the early part of the next half-inning, it’s mentioned that Jerry looks tired. He’s asked what’s wrong. My partner exclaims, “Oh, hell, they’re remodeling my house and there’s crap hanging everywhere ... dirt in the air, noise all day long, I can’t get any rest, they’re driving me crazy!” That’s my Jerry.

My partner also called after I left KFMB. Instead of all the “Hang in there” nonsense, he tells me, “I just took my dog to be neutered, and I thought of your situation!” I had to remind him that I hadn’t been fired, I asked out of my contract. Have I mentioned that?

The truth is: I’ve only been fired once in my career: 1977, WCAU-TV in Philadelphia. The general manager was Bob Hosking. Bob was a scuba diver. Bob was going to fire Teddy.

Bob was very clever:

Bob: “Ted, you ever dive?”

Ted: “No.”

Bob: “Well, here’s a diving term you might be familiar with. We did a lot of audience research, and the conclusion is that you give the audience the bends!”

Then he fired me.

That was Philadelphia. Fired. Not San Diego, where I asked out of my contract. Have I told you? Basically, KFMB and Teddy got divorced, and believe me, I know about divorces! Groucho Marx always warned that paying alimony was “like feeding hay to a dead horse.” In my case, it’s been operating an entire stable.

The darnedest thing: I was three days shy of my 25th anniversary with Channel 8 and KFMB Radio when we actually executed (my word, not theirs) the settlement agreement. Another anniversary I failed to reach! But let the record show that if you add up all the years of my marriages, they total 20. So 25 years with KFMB was a hell of a run, and I had an absolutely fabulous time.

As far as the reasons behind the KFMB divorce: Who cares? It’s like Tommy Lasorda says, “Half the people don’t want to hear your problems, and the other half are glad you got ’em!”

The truth? The schedule was killing me. Morning radio, 6-10 a.m. Television sports, 5 and 6:30 p.m. Play-by-play for the Padres. Play-by-play for the Chargers. Speaking engagements. No other broadcaster in the country, that I know of, has ever taken on that particular body of work. And I loved most of it. Hey, it’s broadcasting, for God’s sake. No heavy lifting. No hard hat required. Just pounding your gums.

People who actually work for a living don’t want to hear how stressed out I was. But I was. And by July of the baseball season, I was being treated by an ear, nose and throat specialist for some serious vocal cord problems.

Breaks your heart, doesn’t it? I didn’t think so. But the stress and travel and never being home for the kids was starting to bite me. I never said I worked hard. I worked frequently. And the money was great. But too much of a good thing is not a good thing.

On that subject of too much: One of my professional regrets was not listening to the late Bill Moylan, an executive with Channel 8 in the ’80s. He cautioned me about overexposing myself (insert your own Catholic Church joke here). He thought I was great doing three minutes of TV sports, twice a day. But he warned that if you’re adding that onto Padres and Aztecs play-by-play and a talk show, it’s not special anymore. You’re everywhere, and people get tired of you. Maybe Bill had something there.

When I started doing sports at Channel 8, no sportscaster had ever just talked to people. No TelePrompTer. No script. Really different. So much so that people would stop me on the street and say, “It’s like you’re talking directly to me!” Obviously, after 25 years, it can’t seem as new, fresh, different and controversial as it did at the beginning.

Like Larry Lucchino used to say in paraphrasing Shakespeare, “All’s well that ends!” You know, leave ’em laughing, but for God’s sake, leave.

Now I have. And are you folks going to miss me! Just wait and see.

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