He was thrilled to be on the air as a host on the fledgling PGA Tour Radio Network a decade ago, says Grant Boone. It's just too bad, he laments, more actual radio stations didn't feel the same way at the time.

By Grant Boone, Special to PGA.com

This is the second part of PGA Tour Radio Daze. To read part one, click here.

The call came from PGA Tour Radio Network in March 1997 that they wanted me, preferably yesterday. THE PLAYERS Championship was fast approaching, and that was where the company would make its debut with hourly leaderboard updates and a one-hour magazine show that would air the Saturday morning of the tournament.

I agreed to take the job "in principle," a legal term that means "not contractually bound for saying something stupid." They told me to go ahead and move to Atlanta and that we'd figure out all the minutiae -- such as whether or not I'd actually be earning a living wage -- once we got there. That was good enough for me. My wife, on the other hand, was slightly more cautious. She insisted we see a contract. Party pooper! What could possibly go wrong? This was a company whose history dated all the way back to the previous October.

Nonetheless, I (we) stood firm, and they scribbled out a "contract" -- another legal term -- which is Latin for "not worth the paper it's printed on." Next thing you know, ol' Grant's a millionaire. Minus a few shekels. But we did load up the truck, Clampett-style, and head for Atlanta. It was just the three of us: my wife (clutching the contract with one hand and our 7-month-old son in the other) and me.

We rolled into Atlanta on a Sunday night and had a couple of friends graciously waiting to help us move in to the corporate apartment PGA Tour Radio Network had arranged for us to use while we looked for a house. Nice place, had the "lived-in" look. Especially the bathroom.

I don't really know why the guy who used the apartment before us was fired. But apparently, when the you-know-what hit the fan, it splattered all over the master bath. My wife had her hands full with our son and the contract, so that left me to christen this new chapter in our lives with a brillo pad and a squirt bottle of Lysol.

If only cleaning up the company's other messes would've been so easy.

Starting a radio network would be a daunting enough challenge if you had an experienced executive team and a sound business plan in place. PGA Tour Radio Network had all of those things except two. The way broadcast outlets make money is by selling advertising. But companies are really picky about where they spend their ad dollars.

They tend to choose those stations or networks that people actually listen to. (They're quirky that way.) Which makes it incumbent on radio networks, especially start-ups, to line up as many stations as possible to carry their programming. More stations means more listeners; more listeners means not only more interested advertisers but also a higher rate you can charge those companies.

This is not a revolutionary thought. It's Network Broadcasting 101, and PGA Tour Radio Network flunked.

As far as I could tell, our strategy in presenting our product to both prospective advertisers and radio stations consisted of flashing the PGA Tour logo, then handing them a pen so they could sign on the dotted line. Instead, they generally had one of two reactions most people have when they're flashed: they either took off running or they pointed and laughed.

Our exposure was indecent at best when we signed on the week of the '97 PLAYERS Championship with hourly leaderboard updates. It was even worse when we launched our play-by-play coverage at the Shell Houston Open. I can't prove this scientifically, but I'm pretty sure it's a bad sign when there are more golfers in a playoff (2) than there are radio stations broadcasting the tournament (1).

Only by divine intervention, a single, small Christian radio station in Houston agreed to air our marathon coverage of the final two rounds. Sadly, most of the radio world missed Phil Blackmar outlasting Kevin Sutherland in a tournament most golf historians pretend never happened.

Of course, you'd have thought it was the '86 Masters by how geeked up I was as the host. When the winning putt dropped, I smoothly announced to a small but terrified listening audience, "PHIL BLACKMAR IS THE 1997 SHELL HOUSTON OPEN CHAMPION!"

Even the guy on late night TV with all the question marks on his suit screaming about how the government wants to give you free money told me I needed to take it down a notch. Or two. Or 12.

Present company excluded, one thing PGATRN did right was assemble a solid team of announcers. Among those who joined me on the air that year were former PGA Tour winners Bill Kratzert, Denis Watson and Joe Inman, as well as LPGA Hall of Fame member Donna Caponi, former LPGA player Mary Bryan, and veteran broadcaster Randy Brown. In spite of my occasional vocal paroxysms, the professionalism of the broadcasts belied the chaos going on behind the scenes. Like good sausage, it was best enjoyed without knowing how it's made.

Next week, in part three of PGA Tour Radio Daze, the shows go on as the company looks for a tourniquet to stanch its cash hemorrhage. (Hint: they probably should've "aaaaasked Lesko!")

Grant Boone is a husband, father, golf broadcaster, and sports journalist based in Abilene, Texas. His column appears on PGA.com each Wednesday and every day during major championships and other big events. He can be contacted at pgagrant@hotmail.com.

The views and opinions expressed here do not reflect those of PGA.com or The PGA of America.