Love At First Listen

You know that scene in "The Sixth Sense" where the kid says "I see dead people?" I hear talented people.

This auditory paranormal ability of mine can make some people think I'm certifiably crazy. What I hear as great potential in a jock or talk host may be inaudible to my GM, Market Manager and/or Regional VP. But that hasn't always stopped me from putting my neck on the line for an undiscovered or up-and-coming talent I believe in.

Such a roll of the dice can result in one of two things for a PD's career. 1) Foster the perception that you're a friggin' genius (even if you aren't); or 2) raise more questions about your judgment than American voters had about Senator John McCain.

On vacation, I fell in love at first listen to a midday personality who was working in obscurity on a medium-market station. He fulfilled all the elements of the "PIE" chart I use to judge talent. He sounded professional (that's the P). He was interesting. (Note: You can do okay in radio if you possess the "P" and the "I"). But best of all, the "E" was in his radio DNA; he was wildly entertaining. (Quick math equation: P + I + E = potential to be a national star). In fact, he was so compelling, my wife finally threatened to fly home if I didn't turn off the radio in our parked rental car and go with her on our beach excursion.

When I returned home, I called a pal in the market I'd visited and asked him to do some recon for me. He called me back the next day with the air talent's contract status and home phone number.

Fast forward: It's a month later. Our company's president, his assistant and the regional VP visit our cluster. I use the occasion to proudly announce that I've hired a new afternoon-drive personality, a guy who, I boldly predict, will be a huge star in our business. A quick Power Point presentation highlights his ratings achievements and press coverage.

"(Personality's name) will be so big one day, we'll need security guards to keep the syndicators away from him," I gushed.

Without missing a beat, the regional VP slowly and scornfully repeated the name of the personality I'd just put on a pedestal. All the oxygen was sucked out of the room.

"He did mornings for me in (small market) when I was the GM there," he said. "I fired him."

Sucker-punched. "One ... two ... three ... four...." I got up off the imaginary canvas in my mind and, dazed and confused, tried to regain my composure on still wobbly legs.

"Well, uh, that was then, and you know, uh, well, human nature and such, we've all made mistakes..." I blathered on.

The VP cut me off.

"It was a long time ago," he acknowledged. "I'm sure you're probably right. People do overcome major substance-abuse problems. Time will tell, won't it?"

What's uncertain is how much time I have to disprove his skepticism. And keep my job.