Williams takes over tonight on NBC news
By Peter Johnson
USA Today
Brian Williams will anchor the "Nightly News" franchise, which nets a cool $90 million a year.
NBC 'NBC Nightly News' 5:30 tonight |
He knows that some critics think he's no Brokaw, that behind his tanned, handsome face and well-cut suits is something of a lightweight. He has heard that there are those at NBC News who think that the "Nightly" franchise, which nets a cool $90 million a year, could lose steam with him at the helm.
"It's the ultimate subjective business," says Williams, 45. "We put ourselves on the line and say, 'Please invite us into your home,' and everyone is free to have at it. That's one of the great things about a democracy. People are completely entitled to their opinions, and I go home after the broadcast and go to sleep at night. My wife and children seem to like me quite a bit, and as long as that is true people find this amazing I'm really OK."
But perhaps to dispel another idea that some people have that this college dropout is a bit of a snob Williams picks a hole-in-the-wall pizza joint, linoleum tables and all, to meet for lunch.
He swears it's the best pizza in town as he wolfs down two slices, chased by a can of Pepsi.
After spending much of the past year on the road, Williams says, his game plan as anchor of the No. 1-rated U.S. newscast is simple.
"I've got to get out a lot," he says. "The New York-Washington axis can be a journalist's worst enemy. Stories have a funny way of sneaking up on you, and the American people have a funny way of deciding what their reality is. You've got to spend a night in Dayton and Toledo and Cincinnati and Denver and in the middle of Kansas."
An example of the kind of story Williams likes to report came when he flew to Dundee, Mich., to take the pulse at Cabela's, the popular hunting and fishing mail-order house whose megastores draw 4 million customers a year.
Williams reported presciently, in light of President Bush's re-election that Cabela's customers were a force to be reckoned with: God-fearing conservatives who like guns, fishing and the outdoors, and that in 2000, "six in 10 gun owners voted for President Bush."
One hunter, a young woman, told Williams that she had already picked the tree she'd shoot from when deer season opens.
Recalling that day, Williams says: "I own an air rifle, mostly to scare the deer in our back yard, but I wanted to go back to our newsroom and say, 'Guys, this is who you don't know. While we haven't been watching, this is what America has become.' Not to pander, not to customize the news, but a newscast that forgets what its audience has become, and takes its eye off the ball in terms of what America is, is doomed to failure."
A different role
There is nothing wrong with reporting feature stories from the heartland, says network news analyst Andrew Tyndall unless you are about to inherit the most powerful anchor chair in the country.
In that role, Tyndall says, millions of viewers look to you to synthesize crucial public-policy issues with state, national and world leaders, not to shoot the breeze in barbershops.
"Williams going for 'vox pop' stories is like saying Charles Kuralt will replace Walter Cronkite," Tyndall says, referring to the late CBS "On the Road" essayist.
But Williams has a different take on the role of the modern network news anchor. "When I land in a foreign place let's take Tel Aviv if I'm traveling with a cameraman, and he says, 'Look, have you ever seen so much barbed wire?' I say, 'Shoot it.' We are surrogates for our audience. We are representing them back home, and I try to keep that eye wherever I am."
Williams had been reporting from Israel, where instead of the obvious network anchor move, a sit-down with Israeli leader Ariel Sharon, he checked in with Palestinians in a coffeehouse in Ramallah about a future without Arafat, and with bus riders in Jerusalem about the specter of being blown up by a suicide bomb. That's vintage Williams, says Steve Capus, "Nightly"'s producer. Williams' strength, Capus says, is connecting with ordinary people. And at a time when many Americans think the media are out of touch, Williams' reporting style may appeal to them.
Williams' "biggest hurdle is that he's going to have to make this broadcast his own," Capus says. "This is now Tom's broadcast, and Brian has a different style, and to some degree, different sensibilities. It's going to take some time for him to hit his stride."
And in his spare time ...
Williams has more plebian interests than his soon-to-be rivals, CBS' Dan Rather, 73, a friend from CBS days, and ABC's Peter Jennings, 66.
A former volunteer firefighter, Williams talks excitedly about the prospect of handling hoses and climbing ladders again on an upcoming story. He has been a stock-car racing fan since childhood days at the Chemung Speedrome near Elmira, N.Y., and is part owner of a dirt-track stock-car team.
NBC president Jeff Zucker admits to some apprehension around NBC about the upcoming switch, attributing the butterflies to the fact that there hasn't been an anchor change since Brokaw and Jennings were both named anchors in 1983.
Zucker notes that every time Williams has subbed for Brokaw, even for long periods of time, "Nightly"'s eight-year No. 1 rank has held.
But critics point out that's because Brokaw's fans always knew he would return. They point out that on CNBC's "The News With Brian Williams," its anchor failed to move the needle much one reason why rivals see the upcoming switch as an opportunity.
Viewers of both morning and evening news shows are intensely loyal and won't shop around unless there's a reason to. Now they have one, says Jim Murphy, who produces Rather on "The CBS Evening News." "Any change is good for competition."