Planet Roger

CBS' Frank Chirkinian came courting Maltbie, but NBC's Dick Ebersol wouldn't allow CBS to talk to him. "He said he would make it up to me," Maltbie says. NBC won the television rights to the USGA package and fended off another offer to Maltbie from CBS. Maltbie has never looked back.

Since then, Maltbie has developed from a player with a microphone and headset into a full-fledged analyst with no punches to pull.

"In the beginning I viewed myself as a player and my relationship with them was that they viewed me as such," he says. "There was a certain trust factor that I wasn't going to throw them under the bus. I appreciated how difficult a job they had, and hopefully I haven't lost that.

"But it's safe to say that I don't have the same relationship with the players I once had," says Maltbie. "I'm media now. You just develop [that way] over the years. I'm more willing to be critical now. And being critical is OK. There's nothing wrong with that. My credentials are such that I know a good shot from a bad one, and I think I'm very qualified to say, 'That was a bad shot.' When you start crossing lines and getting into personalities and what a player might be thinking or feeling, unless I see something really obvious, then I'm probably not going to say too much. That's speculation, and I'm not going to do that. We've got a fellow who's paid a lot more than me to do that. That's his job."

Maltbie is referring, of course, to Miller, whose candid commentary is sometimes pointed at players like an arrow in an archer's bow. It is Miller's most endearing quality—and, at the same time, his most aggravating, especially when it goes flying wildly over the top. Maltbie is the one NBC announcer who is steadfastly unafraid to call Miller out on the air.

Maltbie won five PGA Tour events and was T-4 at the 1987 Masters. Photo: Stephen Szurlej

At this year's U.S. Open, Miller asked Maltbie how many people were following Tiger Woods, as if Maltbie was expert in the art of crowd math. "I don't have a complete count yet," Maltbie retorted.

"I'd rather shank it than three-putt for par," Miller said after Woods did so.

"Well, maybe not," Maltbie shot back.

"To NBC's credit, they've never told me not to," Maltbie says. "They encourage it. If he says something you don't like, that makes for great television. That's what [NBC executive producer] Tommy Roy wants. He wants people sitting at home listening to golfers talking about golf and maybe they'll learn something, like they're eavesdropping.

"Now, to Johnny's credit, he's right more often than not," Maltbie says. "Every now and then he gets over the top, and you've got to go, 'Whoa, big fella.' That's what makes Johnny great, what makes him so listenable. There's no telling what's coming next. I don't know, and I'm pretty sure he doesn't. That makes for great TV. That's refreshing. Whether [viewers] like him or not, he gets a reaction and they're listening to him. That's compelling."

Maltbie not only knows his position on NBC's pecking order, he seems comfortable with it. "Johnny is the best there is by far," says Maltbie. "It's not even close. Maybe the best analyst in all sports. Does he say things you want to take him to the mat for every now and then? That's part of it. Our system is that Johnny is the sun, and we are all the planets that revolve around him."

Maltbie's role includes that of chief humor officer, and he is known around the NBC compound as "Captain Morale." When someone on the crew is out of sorts, Maltbie reminds them how lucky they are to do what they do for a living.

"He certainly has a keen sense of observation," says Koch, who joined NBC in 1997. "I think he's as good as there is at sizing up a situation and succinctly painting a nice picture. He has a sense of humor that is very enjoyable, and that's a good thing for our telecast because we can get more serious than we need to be. He keeps things in perspective for all of us."

Maltbie was born in Modesto, Calif., and grew up in San Jose, where he went to college. He still lives in the San Francisco area, and he and his wife, Donna, have two sons, Spencer and Parker. When he turned 50 in 2001, Maltbie cast a jaundiced eye toward the Champions Tour and for the most part, let it pass.