Ailene Voisin: 'EJ Junior' is loving life, work on TNT

Ticked off at the boss. Inching along in commuter hell. Depressed about the economy, the war in Iraq, the financially strapped public schools, the crumbling infrastructure, political sniping and global warming.

Where would we be without the late-night punditry of Kenny, Charles and Ernie?

They make you forget for a while. They make you laugh.

The genius of TNT's "Inside the NBA" studio show, the Emmy award-winning program that resumes its playoff coverage today, is the triple-headed presence of its colorful superstars. For the price of cable, you can go fishing with Kenny Smith, count calories with Charles Barkley and simply appreciate the subtle humor and gentle humanity of host Ernie Johnson Jr.

Indeed, while Johnson lacks the celebrity of Smith and Barkley, his ability to nurture the show along with a patient, almost parental guidance, is as quietly effective and essential as the outrageous rantings and poignant insights of his boisterous colleagues.

And it's been what? Eighteen years anchoring the NBA coverage for the man known affectionately as "EJ Junior"?

In the NBA community of immense egos, lucrative salaries and very little job security, few in the industry are universally liked and respected. Johnson is one of them. This is a prizefighter who dances and jabs and rides the ropes, who leaves playful pin pricks instead of welts. He received two Emmys because he is bright and prepared, because he ad-libs like a sports edition of Barack Obama and because he's the same person who, in the early days, arrived on the set wearing funky leisure suits and welder's glasses.

He laughed at himself back then, too.

"The theme of the show has stayed the same," Johnson said from the TBS studio in Atlanta. "We're a distraction. That's the best way to put it. We can talk basketball with the junkie who is into hoops. But with all the stuff going on in the world, sometimes you have to put yourself in the position of a man or woman working all day, coming home, who just wants to be entertained. Let's have some fun."

The quips and the skits and the occasional analysis just keep coming, with little or no censorship. Barkley has been urged to save his four-letter words for the green room, but the audience – like Johnson and the studio bosses – generally catch the Chuckster at first blush.

"We started to fool around, do silly things in 1997 or 1998," said producer Tim Kiely, "and we would bring different people in as guests. We just stumbled onto Kenny. He was different, not at all self-possessed or self-conscious. When Charles retired and came on in 2000, the whole process went on steroids. They are quick and smart, and Ernie is the guy who steers it."

TNT sort of stumbled onto Johnson as well, though he lived right down the street. The son of former major leaguer and longtime Atlanta Braves announcer Ernie Johnson, he recalls a glorious boyhood, with most of his summers spent at the ballpark.

"Having Hank Aaron ask how your Little League is doing is pretty special," he says with a laugh. "Knowing all the players. Not a bad life."

But his is no longer such an easy life, either. A former news anchor in Macon and Atlanta, Johnson was diagnosed with non-Hodgkin's lymphoma in the spring of 2006. He underwent chemotherapy for six months, missing the British Open and the major-league baseball playoffs, but resuming his NBA schedule in the fall. With encouragement from Barkley, Smith and his other colleagues, Johnson says, he learned to ignore the swelling in his neck, the bloating of his features and, most noticeably, the total loss of hair. Suddenly, bald was in; three of the technicians shaved their heads as a show of support.

Now 51, Johnson, who continues to receive treatment four times a year in an aggressive, precautionary measure, remains chronically upbeat, consumed by his professional life and a family situation not without its own unique strains. He and his wife, Cheryl, an addiction counselor with the Metropolitan Atlanta police department – and already the parents of two teenagers – adopted two children in 1991. A year later, Michael, the son who was born in Romania, was diagnosed with muscular dystrophy.

"But he's hanging in there," said the host. "We're all fine. We sit around the dinner table and the jokes fly, and I think that's where some of my humor comes from. I've got a wonderful situation. All I have to do is get ready for the next show."

During the 52-game regular-season telecast schedule and a postseason that consists of the grueling "40 Games in 40 Nights," Johnson arrives six hours before the evening telecast and routinely stays until 2 a.m. He reads every article about the NBA in that morning's newspapers or on the Internet, yet except for the props involved in the skits, there are no rehearsals. On many occasions, says Johnson, he deliberately provokes Barkley in hopes of enlisting one of the Hall of Famer's verbal gems.

"We go on like this off the set, too," said Johnson. "It just happens. It has been such a great run … you take that and run with it for as long as it goes."

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