CBS's omnipresent talking guy Jim Nantz is divorcing his wife of 26 years. This is not at all scandalous or shocking, yet the local newspaper provided us all with a depressing blow-by-blow that just might break your heart.
At least Connecticut Post writer Daniel Tepfer, who covered the testimony of the divorce trial, says what we're all thinking. We don't really need to know this stuff, but it is "like seeing a car crash — you just couldn't look away." At its heart, this story is the same old song about a couple that used to love each other, but doesn't really have anything in common anymore. Except this time, it's happening to your golfing buddy.
The only surprising revelation to come out of the trial is just how filthy rich Jim Nantz is. He makes $7 million a year from CBS and various endorsements. He owns a six-bedroom, six-bathroom house in Westport, Connecticut (even though they only have one kid), a ski house in Utah, and I'm guessing many leather-bound books, including the one that he wrote about his dad. The same book his wife did not give a crap about.
Nantz cried on the stand as he testified about how his wife used to follow him around the country to various sporting events, but gradually lost interest in his career. She could not even be bothered to go to New York City to watch him collect a "Man of the Year" award. Or let him hang the oil painting—of himself—that he received with the award in their house. (He had to put it in storage.) He was even offered the hosting slot on the CBS Early Show, but turned it down because she was against it. He admitted to taking a younger lover (eww), but that it didn't matter much because his marriage was already "dead." Apparently, the one thing he and his wife did have in common was his money, which she spent a lot of. (Including over $1 million in nine years at a local jewelry store.)
Oh, and if you don't feel guilty yet for eavesdropping on this whole affair, the final denouement should ruin your day.
Play-by-play gets tearful in sportscaster's divorce trial
At least Connecticut Post writer Daniel Tepfer, who covered the testimony of the divorce trial, says what we're all thinking. We don't really need to know this stuff, but it is "like seeing a car crash — you just couldn't look away." At its heart, this story is the same old song about a couple that used to love each other, but doesn't really have anything in common anymore. Except this time, it's happening to your golfing buddy.
The only surprising revelation to come out of the trial is just how filthy rich Jim Nantz is. He makes $7 million a year from CBS and various endorsements. He owns a six-bedroom, six-bathroom house in Westport, Connecticut (even though they only have one kid), a ski house in Utah, and I'm guessing many leather-bound books, including the one that he wrote about his dad. The same book his wife did not give a crap about.
Nantz cried on the stand as he testified about how his wife used to follow him around the country to various sporting events, but gradually lost interest in his career. She could not even be bothered to go to New York City to watch him collect a "Man of the Year" award. Or let him hang the oil painting—of himself—that he received with the award in their house. (He had to put it in storage.) He was even offered the hosting slot on the CBS Early Show, but turned it down because she was against it. He admitted to taking a younger lover (eww), but that it didn't matter much because his marriage was already "dead." Apparently, the one thing he and his wife did have in common was his money, which she spent a lot of. (Including over $1 million in nine years at a local jewelry store.)
Oh, and if you don't feel guilty yet for eavesdropping on this whole affair, the final denouement should ruin your day.
The trial over, Lorrie Nantz stood in the lobby of the courthouse sobbing. Stepping from the elevator her husband saw her standing there alone and walked over and put his arms around her.
Together they stood, arms wrapped around each other, sobbing.
Geez. Hey, married folk. Go call your wife or husband right now, will ya?Together they stood, arms wrapped around each other, sobbing.
Play-by-play gets tearful in sportscaster's divorce trial
