re: worst BR talk show host, take your pick

quote:

---

In 1996, he pushed it too far.

"I went off on Clinton wanting to allow same-sex marriages to have health benefits and all that," he says. "I said something I regret saying. It's probably the only thing in radio ever that I regret saying ... I didn't mean it, it was just off the cuff, I said, 'As far as I'm concerned, you can shoot all those son-of-abuggers in the head. I could care less.' "

Condon called his wife a few hours later, half-drunk, from Pastime Pizza. He'd been fired. It was rough. But a few weeks later, Condon landed on his feet.

Don Nelson, now general manager at Guaranty Broadcasting, hired Condon to do sports at Citywide Communications.

"I said, 'Richard, this is your last Baton Rouge hoorah. This is it. If you want to make it work, if you want to be in radio, this is where you're going to have to make it work. I'm a big fan of yours, but you've got to try to play ball with us and not always be out-of-bounds.' To his credit, he's made it work. I tip my hat to him."

Condon hosted a call-in show on WIBR-AM from 6 a.m-10 a.m. until late last year, when his bosses shifted his act to the same time on Rock 93.7 FM. The higher-ups hope his co-hosting the FM morning show boosts ratings for the newly formatted rock station.

Not everyone is sure Condon will be an asset.

"When's Richard going to shoot himself in the foot?" posits Ann Edelman of Edelman Advertising and Public Relations.

"I'm not worried about him shooting himself. I'm worried about other people," jokes another prominent ad agency owner. "He is a loose cannon. You do not know what's likely to come out of his mouth. Most of my clients will not allow me to buy on the radio station that has him on it."

Richard's a menace

State Sen. Cleo Fields says he gets calls from people in Baton Rouge's African-American community who want him to get Condon to stuff it.

Fields' usual response: "My bottom line is that if you think it's trash, don't listen to it."

Robert Kinchen, a Baton Rouge financial advisor and member of the Capital City Alliance, a gay rights organization, says Condon's success is a reflection of Baton Rouge's smallmindedness.

"I feel sorry for Mr. Condon that he has to make comments like the ones he makes to get ratings," Kinchen says.

At Citadel, they don't try to rein in Condon.

"He's thought-provoking," says Rebecca Breeding, Citadel's general manager. "I have enough confidence in him to know where the line is. He's learned that the hard way."

Condon's got a big fight ahead of him if he hopes to win the ratings war. In the most recent ratings period, much of his target demographic was listening to morning stars Walton & Johnson on Eagle 98.1.

That's okay, Condon says. He can fight.

It's Friday afternoon at Calmes Motor Sports on Florida Boulevard in Denham Springs.

Beat-up pickup trucks pass the motorcycle dealership, where Condon has been hired to do a remote broadcast. Rush-hour traffic whooshes past through the chilly January air. From one truck comes a sharp tenor cry. It's either obscenity or praise. No one can tell which.

Condon, surrounded by a legion of beefy guys, puffs up his chest and says he wishes the son-of-a-bugger had the guts to get out of the frickin' truck and square off face-to-face, fight like a real man, just fists and cold air between 'em.

He's got no time for sissies.

---