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Arianna upstaged by "Baywatch" babe Are men better writers than women? Why do Jewish cartoonists get away with it? Feasting on Frank The rise and fall of Paul "Spanker" Johnson BROWSE THE |
MAKING MAGIC | PAGE 1, 2 Not only have protease inhibitors given Johnson back his life, but they've changed people's perceptions of him -- they no longer think of him as an ambulatory corpse. "For some reason, they thought I was going somewhere," he says, without saying where. Before the new drugs, HIV was a death sentence, on average 10 years after the initial infection. Johnson believes the public's new image of him led directly to his latest incarnation as the host of "The Magic Hour," a late-night talk show on Fox affiliates nationwide. "I'm more popular now than I was when I played basketball," says the five-time NBA champ and three-time league MVP. "I think the endorsement people, the marketing industry said, 'You know, this guy just stays in the news. We gotta put him back on TV.'" Infection with the AIDS virus, he says, "is no longer something you have to whisper about. You can talk openly about it. They know I can sell products because I'm about a lot more than HIV. Like yourself. You're more than that. Everybody is just finding that out about themselves." Also like me, Johnson wonders why we have survived when so many others missed the advent of the lifesaving drugs. "You do wonder. I thank God every night. But I also know I've been a great voice for HIV and AIDS." When Johnson went public in 1991 with his HIV status, his optimism seemed delusional. Jeff Yarbrough, then editor in chief of the Advocate, interviewed Johnson for a cover story and now recalls a cockeyed optimism that practically amounted to blindness to his fate. "At the time there was no hope, but he was very hopeful," Yarbrough says. Johnson doesn't believe he was psychotically cheerful then. Because of his fame and popularity, he connected to the AIDS research community immediately and learned long in advance of the public about the drugs coming down the pike that may save his life. "I was never at the point where I thought I was going to die. I've always been a positive person. I always knew I'd be here for a long time. I got a chance to meet a lot of doctors and scientists around the world, so I knew things were going to happen." When you're one of the most beloved figures in the history of sports, you get Time magazine's Man of the Year as your primary care physician. Dr. Ho, Johnson says, let him know about his work on protease inhibitors before publishing the results of his research. Johnson was well-connected. Battling HIV, however, has not been the most terrifying challenge of his life, Johnson says. Sitting behind a desk and interrogating celebrities for "The Magic Hour" earns that dubious honor. "The show is more of a challenge. It's like HIV because I'm going into something I didn't know anything about." And just as he was able to access the top talent in AIDS research, Magic's magnetism has attracted top advisors in the talk show biz and top names as guests on the show. Although they will go head to head in most markets, Jay Leno, Johnson says, gives him ongoing advice, including, perhaps, the most crucial: Don't do an opening monologue. You're not a comedian, buddy. Arsenio Hall, whose show was taped on the same soundstage on Paramount's lot in Hollywood, has also joined Johnson's kitchen cabinet of chat. Johnson hired a dialogue coach and an interview expert as "personal trainers" to help him get in shape. A well-known journalist who asked not to be identified interviewed Johnson seven years ago and told me the Lakers legend was "endlessly charming" but had trouble speaking in "complete sentences. He used the wrong words for things." When the reporter transcribed the tape, he found a mixture of malapropisms and non sequiturs. The writer ended up "changing the words to make them what Magic was really trying to say. It was like, 'What are you talking about?'" "I've heard since then he's gotten a lot of coaching from Arsenio and others," the reporter told me. When I spoke to Johnson in late May, he was no Mr. Malaprop. Maybe he attacked conversational skills the way he played basketball. Johnson was pumped. His charisma was palpable -- a strange thing for me to feel so strongly since we chatted on the phone, not in person. An interviewer's dream, Johnson gave great anecdote. One of the producers of his show told me her boss was not using his celebrity status to arm-twist guests to sit on his couch. Johnson contradicted her. "I've called everybody," he said. So far, only two celebrities who never give interviews to anyone have turned him down. Mostly, though, big names ask to be put on the show's guest list, including publicity-phobes such as Harrison Ford. Mel Gibson, Cher, Babyface, Tyra Banks and Oscar de la Hoya appeared on the test pilot, even though it will never air. If there's one thing Johnson won't have to worry too much about, it's coming up with pointed questions to ask his guests, who turn into groupies when they encounter Johnson. Geovanni Brewer, one of the executive producers of "The Magic Hour," says, "A lot of guests say to Magic, 'I've always wanted to ask you ...'"
A former film critic for the Los Angeles Daily News, Frank Sanello is the bestselling author of "Steven Spielberg: The Man, the Movies, the Mythology" and "Jimmy Stewart: A Wonderful Life." |
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