“Cleveland King”

c. 2020 Rod Ice

All rights reserved

(5-20)

Trivisonno.

For those on the Northcoast, his name is more than familiar. It is part of our identity as the city by Lake Erie. Cleveland, Ohio. Butt of jokes, sports chump, financial loser, a site on the burning Cuyahoga River, and home of the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame – an entity largely controlled by outsiders with little respect for those of us in ‘flyover country.’

Notably, we prayed to Saint Bernie here, patron of brave souls and broken hearts. Our hero who wanted to play for his beloved Cleveland Browns and was foiled by the Denver Broncos, battered behind a patchwork offensive line, and eventually dumped like ripening garbage in the hot sun.

Triv was famously a frequent caller to Sportsline with Pete Franklin on local radio. Obnoxious and unrepentant. An everyman voice for the masses. One who would eventually land a career in radio broadcasting, with no background in the industry, and no formal training. A feat that astounded faceless veterans who had toiled in obscurity, for years. And lifted the spirits of listeners who cheered his natural ability as a willing on-air buffoon and raconteur.

His success was our success.

He did what many of us could not – jump walls between insiders and outsiders like leaping over a turnstile to gain free admission. His very presence on-the-air exploded traditions and tenets of the business. He was the proverbial guy-at-the-end-of-the-bar. Drink glass refilled too many times, voice gone loud and words flying loosely, speaking his mind whether you wanted to hear it, or not.

But Cleveland did want to hear. Of course we did...

Early in 2009, while moving between employers, I started a fan page in his honor. A diversion of sorts as I sent out resumes aligned with my dual career path of newspaper journalism and retail management. A diversion from worries about unemployment, and supporting my family. I envisioned it as a spot where he might be praised by radioheads who tuned in on a regular basis. The group had around a dozen members. Posts were few. It was a lukewarm contribution, at best. Eventually, Trivisonno did far better on his own.

Then, earlier this year, the global pandemic took hold.

As Ohio was locked down for safety by Governor DeWine and Amy Acton, Director of the Ohio Department of Health, Triv began to speak about the virus on his show. And about the issues of personal freedom and religious liberty that were tangled in this fishing net of sweeping, state actions. His candid groans and grunts were much like the sports wisdom offered in yonder days. Bare-knuckled, raw, and from the gut. But always genuine.

I had all but forgotten the fan group. Yet suddenly, notifications began to flood my iPhone:

“YOU HAVE NEW MEMBER REQUESTS FOR: MIKE TRIVISONNO IS THE KING OF CLEVELAND.”

I had lost touch with Triv, during my personal slide toward disability and early retirement. Yet this curious resurgence of interest had me tuning in to WTAM 1100, once again. He sounded a bit older and less impulsive, but still gifted with the ability to talk freely from a journeyman’s perspective.

I listened via the iHeart Media app on my Roku. While watching notices appear rapidly on the phone. A dozen new requests. Then two dozen. Then three dozen. More and more and more, until this starter-batch of electronic sourdough had risen to a considerable crock of over 300 members. Interacting vigorously, trading comments, laughing, shouting, praying, offering inspiration.

Celebrating all things Trivisonno.

The COVID-19 pandemic would have been enough to spur discussion for many months and years, on its own. But after the death of George Floyd, in Minneapolis, a national explosion of outrage and rioting provided even more cause for open discussion. Red meat for listeners. A generous helping of pasta with sauce for Triv.

The King of Cleveland had shamelessly professed his admiration and support for Donald J. Trump, a president steeped in controversy from the very beginning. This point of view paired easily with a flourish of anti-government rhetoric during stay-at-home orders, the use of masks, and social distancing. He feasted on the energy of listeners like steaming pans of lasagna at a buffet. What about business owners? What about people of faith? What about the fall election? What about National Guard troops in the streets? What about the nagging division of cultures in our society? What about what about what about what about whaaaat??

With so many questions lingering, Triv had no shortage of material.

The Facebook group was literally revived and reborn. Like a video-game character who had discovered a magic token. It swelled in numbers and activity. Meanwhile, I watched from the sidelines. Witnessing the play of star athletes. Connected only in an indirect sense. An administrator. A seer. But not literally on the field of battle.

Cognizant of my place, out of the limelight.

The King was still on his throne. His reign assured through struggle and persistence. The story of Mike Trivisonno has been a personal triumph, but also much more. A tale of Cleveland and northeastern Ohio. Of common torment, of embarrassment, of setbacks and sadness. Shared across the region. Followed by oaths of determination. Of sweat at the microphone. Of heroic behavior from a regular guy with dirty hands. Of hope and goodness, and light in the darkness. Blue skies, peeking through gray clouds over the lake.

In Cleveland, or anywhere, it is good to be king.

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