Art came before all of them
Jun 30, 2003
About 20 years ago, only one radio sports talk show mattered in New York. In fact, for a time it was the city’s only such show, period. Sure, Marv Albert, Howard Cosell, Bill Mazer and others did sports programs before him, but the 1980s airwaves belonged to Art Rust Jr.
At 75, Rust lives on Manhattan’s Upper West Side, his magnificent wraparound deck affording him a great view of the Hudson and of life. In 1997, Rust survived a near-fatal bout with meningitis, inflammation of the brain. It’s affected his speech and mobility, but not his mind.
In his first extensive interview in a decade, Rust told MSG, "For 20 years I had the lion by the tail. But I realize it now more than ever before."
He often referred to himself on-air as "Arthur George Rust Jr," reminding listeners of exactly who he was and where he came from. He was a sports junkie from Manhattan’s Sugar Hill section. Rust, who is black, made it big in radio relatively late in life, in his 50s. He often attributed that to racism.
How popular was he? Imagine Mike & The Mad Dog being not just the biggest show in town, but the only one.
"Every time I’d go out in the street, somebody would shake my hand to get an autograph, etc." Rust said. "It still happens to me, and I love it."
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"Yeah, I think he had a big hand in giving the people from Emmis Broadcasting, my first employers, the impetus to say, ‘This can work 24 hours a day, sports talk radio,’" said WFAN host Jody McDonald, a devoted Rust listener as a kid.
"Art certainly set the groundwork and the foundation for a WFAN," said FAN host Steve Somers.
After reporting for the Amsterdam News and WINS, Rust became one of America’s first black television sports anchors, at WNBC in 1968. After briefly hosting sports talk at WMCA, Rust was heard nightly on WABC. He became New York’s most powerful sports radio voice.
"Art Rust was an inspiration, and still is an inspiration," Somers said.
"The callers really seemed to be interested in what he had to say," said McDonald, adding that many call FAN just to hear themselves on the air.
"There was a warmth, and that was such a big part of it," Malzberg said. "It was feeling like you knew Arthur George Rust Jr. and he was in your home."
Rust’s show was unique. He extensively covered boxing, a sport few others knew as well. Rust often told Muhammad Ali and Sugar Ray Leonard fans that Joe Lewis and his idol, Sugar Ray Robinson, were far superior.
"If there was a big boxing match coming up, you turned to Art Rust Jr.," McDonald said. "Because he knew the game, he knew the people inside."
His obsession with sports history, and encyclopedic memory were Rust’s best-known attributes. Indeed, they still are.
"The first World Series game I saw," Rust said. "1936, the Giants and the Yankees at the Polo Grounds. Carl Hubbell beat the Yankees, 6-1."
Listeners mimicked Rust’s vocabulary, his "Rustisms." Shea Stadium was "Flushing by the bay." He’d say, "I saw it on the radio." His predictions were "prognostications," or "reminiscing about the future," or looking down the "Art Rustian Turnpike." Most popular was his name for Yankee Stadium, the "Big Ball Orchard in the South Bronx."
Naturally, some of Rust’s prognostications were wrong, most notably, his insistence that Gerry Cooney would become world heavyweight champion. Rust calls Cooney’s failure his greatest disappointment in sports.
How much sports does Rust watch these days?
"As much as I can," Rust said, a Met game beaming on his giant-screen TV. "More TV than in person. Occasionally at the stadium, Shea and Yankee Stadium." Smiling, he added, "The Big Ball Orchard in the South Bronx," his eyes twinkling with nostalgia.
During a Super Bowl trip to New Orleans in 1986, Rust’s wife and constant companion, Edna, died of a stroke. Edna was Rust’s co-author on three of his eight sports books, but more important, his partner in life.
"I was in bad shape when I lost my first wife, bad shape," Rust said. "I almost took my life at the time. I was a wreck. Then I went to MACY’s to pay a bill," he said, giggling.
At MACY’s Rust met his new wife of 12 years, Patty. Rust’s priorities are now his family: his daughter, son-in-law, and two grandchildren.
By the late 1980s, Rust’s time slot was changed, his ratings diminished, and WFAN was born. Ironically, the very format Rust’s success helped sprout, all-sports radio, became his fierce competition. After a morning slot at WBLS through 1994, Rust disappeared from the airwaves and for the most part, from pubic view.
"A Sunday ballgame, I can’t talk about it on Monday to anybody," Rust said. "I read the three papers in the bed and that’s it."
Thus, Rust recently launched ArtRustJr.com, featuring his sports commentary and more.
For reasons neither recalls, Rust and Malzberg, once inseparable, lost touch. At Rust’s apartment, MSG recently arranged their first meeting in about 15 years. When Malzberg arrived, he and Rust shared a long embrace. The two men and their wives all shed tears.
Sports issues no longer consume Rust, who enjoys retirement.
"What used to bother me a long time ago doesn’t bother me now," Rust said. "Not at all."
Rust appears to live by the words he regularly uttered when closing his show after Edna died: "Yesterday’s a cancelled check; tomorrow’s a promissory note; today’s the only time we have so spend it wisely. Good night, Edna, baby."
"I had a ball," Rust said. "I wouldn’t change it for anything in the world."
