Tony Kornheiser, Marketing Genius?

Tony Kornheiser, the co-host of the popular ESPN show Pardon the Interruption, is a self-professed Luddite. It's a frequent topic on his daily radio show in Washington, D.C. Kornheiser's the guy who has to hire people to plug in his TV for him. He talks about "The Facebook" and refers to computers as "Google machines." He's just now starting to text, which is a really big deal to his radio co-hosts.

Yet despite his antipathy toward technology and modern forms of communication, Kornheiser is actually a model marketer when it comes to user generated content. He's getting his listeners (i.e. "users") to generate content that deepens their engagement with his show, extends its brand and creates multiple opportunities for monetization.

That's an interesting twist because for years Kornheiser has actively repressed the usual form of audience interaction for radio talk shows - the call-in. That's one of the things the "Littles," Kornheiser's name for his listeners, love about the show. They don't have to listen to people call in and ramble on without really having anything interesting to say. Ad-libbing on the spot is hard; that's why not everyone has a radio show.

No, to engage with Kornheiser on his show, you had to meet a standard. You had to be smart, and witty. You had to "get" the show. And you had to generate content, in the form of email. Tony's Mailbag, in which he reads a selection of listener emails at the end of each show, is a must-listen segment. It's filled with insightful takes on the show, most of which are wickedly funny and make fun of the host. They create a clubby, insider feeling. If you get your email read on the air, you've made Tony's cut. (Disclosure, I've emailed his show and am immensely proud of the 3-4 notes he's read on air.)

That Mailbag eventually spawned the latest wave of user generated content on the show, the TK Jingles phenomenon. It has its basis in the Mailbag Jingle, a short song that introduced the email segment. The original was an intentionally saccharine effort from frequent show contributor Gary Braun. Along the way, Darius Rucker recorded a version of it. Then, almost two years ago, a long-time listener recorded a version of the jingle with his kids singing the tune. Braun on air half seriously suggested that more listeners send in their versions of the jingle. This then morphed into a Jingles contest.

It was purely organic. This wasn't a contest that Kornheiser and his show staff dreamed up in planning meetings. Rather, they reacted to what their audience was doing and then figured out ways to further nurture that engagement. A prize was established for the best jingle - tickets to a Paul McCartney contest. As the submissions rolled in, they made them a regular part of the show, playing a different jingle for the mailbag segment each day. Perhaps most importantly, Kornheiser was clearly enamored with the tunes. He continually gushed over the talent and intelligence of his listeners. While the McCartney tickets were no doubt nice, the contest was really about trying to impress Tony and his co-hosts.

Eventually the contest concluded, but the jingles kept pouring in, and they evolved into more than just intros to the email segment. There were odes to each of the show co-hosts as well as some of the regular guests. Songs poked fun at D.C. sports and politics, and Tony's many neuroses. They used all sorts of music for their jingles, from show tunes, to rap, to classic rock.

Given another creative outlet, and another bar to pass, the Littles responded immediately and in great numbers. The show smartly rode the wave, continuing to play the jingles. There was always a new one introducing the mailbag, but Kornheiser's producer, Marc Sterne, also began interspersing them throughout the show in connection with the topics being discussed. Sometimes the show would even have catch-up days, when they would play a selection of some of the best recent submissions.

Some of my favorites include a parody of Summer of '69, which lampoons Tony's meandering conversation with ESPN baseball writer Tim Kurkjian about the price of grapefruit juice at the local Safeway - $3.69, in case you're wondering. Or "The Time Larry King Almost Died on Air" to the tune of The Band's "The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down." There was even a version of Beck's "Loser," about former Redskins quarterback John Beck.

Along the way, the jingles phenomenon grew into a site, TK Jingles, where Littles can share ideas, post songs, recruit singers for lyrics and bond over their common love for all things TK. There's now a weekly podcast in which the hosts review recent Jingle contributions. Yes, there's now a podcast about songs that are created in homage to ... another podcast.

But wait, there's more.

Last month, TK Jingles went on the road, with a live event at a place called Kilroy's, in Woodbridge, Va. It was a gathering for all the major contributors of the jingles and their fellow Littles who loved listening to them. It brought in people from all over the United States. Seriously, even Alaska.

Kornheiser's never sought to monetize all this user-generated content but if he did there would be no shortage of opportunities: additional TK Jingles shows, a sponsor for the spinoff podcast, TK Jingles greatest hits CDs, t-shirts based on certain jingles, etc.

Obviously they'd have to get on solid ground in terms of the music rights. And Kornheiser would have to be careful not to let commercialism hinder the spirit of the TK Jingles movement. But that's part of what makes Kornheiser a great accidental marketer: He has an excellent feel for the pulse of his audience and how they'll respond to his show. That sense helped him recognize that TK Jingles were resonating with his listeners and that, if his show played a nurturing role, the jingles would take on a life of their own.

For now, Kornheiser is in the midst of his annual two-month hiatus from the show. When he returns in September, you can be sure the TK Jingles will be back as well. There's no end in sight to this steady stream of user-generated content that's become a popular part of the show and strengthened communal ties among Kornheiser's listeners.

Not bad work for a Luddite.