When Greg Olsen first started announcing in 2021, I was an immediate fan. From content to tone, his entire approach to the game seemed like a really kind wide-eyed football savant had stumbled out of the woods—perhaps clad, head-to-toe, in Online Ceramics—and just had to tell you what he was seeing, without a trace of cynicism.
After years of enduring scolding sourpuss analysts like Dan Dierdorf or Troy Aikman, who seemed hellbent on using the phrase “there’s no place in the game for that” at least a dozen times per broadcast (and in most cases that was a player smiling, or a player celebrating, or a random fan in the stands, breathing) Greg was fucking charismatic.
The experience of calling the game felt new to him. And to viewers, it was like hearing a teenager in 1946 describing Mardi Gras to his grandfather over a payphone as it all unfolded in front of him. Or a student who took acid for the first time over the weekend describing his “trip” to an art professor the following Monday. “The clouds were plaid, Dr. Smethels!”
Greg had just stepped off the field. His brain was a geyser of relevant info, vibes, and subtleties that had been hidden from us. He understood the game as it is played now. Tony Romo was a bit like this early on, before he lost the plot and thought he was becoming a brand. (We remember you in the playoffs, Tony — don’t get all worked up, bro)
Anyway, in the past couple of years, a bit of that energy has been lost. Greg is a TV pro now. He is in the grind. He and partner Kevin Burkhardt are Fox’s top team, shlepping from stadium to stadium. (Greg’s getting $10 million, baby) Vanity Fair tells us he’s steamed about Tom Brady elbowing his way into the booth next year, and that Greg’s also been coached to let the game breathe more, not fill every moment with insights. To be fair, they were/are insights. And they were welcome. He wasn’t trying to call them Greg-isms or anything. He was genuinely additive to the game. In a smart way. He sounds a bit more boring now. A bit more like a career guy. Not defeated. But not so unique. (Sorry, Greg.)
And something else has happened. Something I didn’t notice in Greg: Year One. I don’t even know how much it happened in Greg: Year Two. I don’t have all night to watch stuff. But I went back and listened to the fourth quarter of last season’s Super Bowl (Greg’s first), and only heard him say it once. All I know is that it is happening a lot now. And what is “it”? Using the word “right” — to punctuate a thought. And if you’re not lucky, you’ll hear it punctuate many thoughts. Like three of them in a minute on Saturday.
The New York Times identified this phenomenon a couple years back as Zuck Talk, after Facebook founder Mark Zuckerberg.
During his frequent public appearances, Mr. Zuckerberg can be heard expounding on all sorts of topics in this manner: the future of tech (“in terms of augmented reality, right, so there is virtual reality. …”); the early days of his social network (“there was no feed, right?”); human progress (“right, so, I mean life expectancy has gone up from about 50 to about 75”); Facebook’s mission (“you know, what I care about is giving people the power to share, giving every person a voice so we can make the world more open and connected. Right?”); “the history of science” (“most big scientific breakthroughs are driven by new tools, right, new ways of seeing things, right?”).
This is the voice of someone — in this case, and often, a man — who is as comfortable speaking about virtually any subject as he is uncomfortable speaking at all. (This is not the careful, measured voice of Sheryl Sandberg, the cheerily blustering awkwardness of Elon Musk.) It is, by default, one of the defining communication styles of its time. Right?
It’s true. Remember when Zuck was maybe going to run for president and toured the country, stopping at campuses and stuff in like 2017? Zuck did a lot of (pretend) listening. And a lot of saying the word “right.” And if you work anywhere today, and someone has to explain something, there’s a good chance they’ll use the word “right” as they tell you what they need to tell you, because they’ve heard other “smart” people speak this way and it is completely unnecessary. It’s like saying “you know.” It’s meaningless.
In the case of Greg? You’re the expert, man. We are at home. We are already buying into what you’re saying. You’re the guy announcing the game. It’s not like you will ever see us nod, or say “right” back to you. So just get on with it. And you know what? It isn’t just Greg saying “right.” It’s his partner Kevin Burkhardt, too.
During a broadcast, Kevin says “right” as frequently and with as much discretion as your buddy who “secretly” vapes. During today’s Bears vs. Chiefs game, my stream got all fucked up and kept going offline and I still counted Kevin using this tic THIRTEEN times in the first half alone. Thirteen times Kevin wanted to check with us, and see if what he was saying was “right.” Yeah, it fucking tracks, guy. You’re right.
Greg only used it once. I didn’t bother watching much of the rest of the game. The Bears are garbage. Turned it on again midway through the 4th quarter and here was Kevin again, using “right” twice and Greg saying it once. Anyway, there’s some weird psychology thing about coworkers trying to sound like each other and these guys have fallen prey to it. Maybe someone on their production staff this year is jabbering on to them, saying “right” nonstop.
Time to knock it off, fellas. You didn’t need it before.
Never heard it here:
Listened to a good chunk of this and didn’t hear it:
Just call the goddamn game. Be Greg again, man. And Kevin, get your shit together.