I've written here about schadenfreude. Nothing more joy-inducing than what's now called "the fail", or wipeout. (Unless you are a surfer, then it's terrifying)
I was a kid who stayed up late during the summer and on weekends by myself, enjoying late night television with uncertain glee. I've referenced the elements of this before. But there's a specific issue tied hard to my pre-adolescent search for comedy.
I got joy out of late night hosts' monologues, and their stunts (Dropping Stuff off a 5 story tower) But being a lover of comedy and baseball, I'd love when the TV Guide posted the upcoming appearances of these folks:
Joe Garagioloa author of Baseball is a Funny Game
Bob Uecker author of Catcher in the Wry and star of Major League as Harry Doyle, and Mr. Belvedere, a sitcom I'd rather not go into here, excepting the way Christopher Hewitt, star of the show, pronounced "Zeppelins". Friggin' hilarious.
Marv Albert author of excellent play by play man, Kenny Albert, and a controversy I'd rather not go into here.
Whether on Carson or Letterman, they usually brought along video collections of sports flops, and if they were Garagiola or Uecker, they were strictured to baseball. Athletes at this time were quasi-gods to me, and to see bumbling, stumbling, physical ineptitude from those revered and awarded for their physical accomplishments often caused the kind of laughter that hurt. And I wanted it as often as possible, despite the pain and hyperventilation involved.
