The Statler and Waldorf of ESPN poker broadcasts, Lon McEachern and Norman Chad have become staples to the televised poker community, and for me, in more ways than one. Having my weeknights constantly wounded by watching clueless nobodies rake in millions on the televised felt, they have been the staple holding my incisions of enjoyment together, turning what would be a bland, mind-numbing show into something salvageable, easy to swallow, and somewhat enjoyable.

I used to hate the broadcasts and still primarily do. Constantly cutting in and out of only large pots with notable players often leaves me scratching my head when they show the leaderboard 10 minutes later and there are substantial differences in stacks and averages. Stupid segments like “The Nuts” make me want to go nuts and stab the next stranger I meet. I’m already boycotting Degree, Planters Peanuts and Jack Links Beef Jerky for all the advertisement spots through all-in moments and mystery hole card cams I’ve had to endure. And then there was Norman Chad. I hated Norman Chad.

No matter how lame I thought him to be initially, he was like that bad tooth ache: no matter how much it hurt, you just kept pressing it with your tongue. As the years have passed, his commentary has grown edgier and smarter, as has my respect for Lon and Norman both. Outside of the sun and the moon aligning and occasionally witnessing a great poker hand from a great player, they are now the most redeemable reason left to tune in.

After watching an early morning airing of the 2009 World Series of Poker Europe (WSOPE) Main Event, it dawned on me why I keep coming back for more.

• Norman’s berating of Phil Hellmuth
  Granted Hellmuth just tosses slow pitches up with his ego to get knocked out of the park from anyone with a pulse, it seems as though there aren’t enough seconds in the broadcast for Norman’s constant reminders of just how laughably egotistical he is. Even when he’s nowhere in sight, Norman gets in witty jabs to constantly remind viewers that yes, Hellmuth is still somewhere breathing and that yes, he’s still a prick. After walking in day one dressed as Julius Caesar and lead by an entourage of women as horns played, cameras constantly panned to Doyle Brunson shaking his head in disgust. Chad summarized the moment best: “You know, a lot of people hate Phil’s entrances, but they love when he makes his exits.”
• The dynamic duo
  Every typical announcing dynamic has the “state the obvious” guy in their formula, acting as a catalyst for the “knowledgeable guy” to take over and constitute for 80% of the insight. Take the UFC for instance, where Mike Goldberg sits like a mole on the face of Joe Rogan’s expertise, or the World Poker Tour, where Vince Van Patten defecates clichés in between every sentence of Mike Sexton. Lon and Norman are like the Tweedledee and Tweedledum of announcing, where the expertise behind their harmony and eloquence never rides on either of their shoulders individually. Whether its play-by-play or colorful commentary, their remarks effortlessly complement one another until the volley of words stops at the end of the hour. Never since the Legion of Doom has a tag team been this effective.
• Norman’s self-loathing
  Misery loves company, and considering only 5% of people who play poker are winners, the viewing demographic agrees. That’s why it’s enjoyable to watch Norman constantly compare winning hand percentages to his divorce rate and probabilities of things occurring as distant as his self-admitted inability to play poker. Love him or hate him, his remarks are infectious and relatable to the woes of your two-outers and runner runner beats. Having no shame and a deep sense of humility are two things you come to appreciate playing poker, or in Chad’s case, watching it.