Mary Carillo Explains Her Amazing Badminton Rant

This morning, we posted NBC anchor Mary Carillo's 2004 rant about badminton because we had never seen it before and we wanted to share it with the world. Carillo just wrote an email to us, explaining how that monologue made it on the air:

Can't believe that thing's still around. I was hosting a morning show in Athens that covered a lot of badminton—some table tennis too, but badminton, I'd been assured, was going to be "the curling of the Summer Games." (!) There was no script for that rant—just a little dead time—but it got some chuckles and a head shake from my producer. It was a pretty loose show—I'd already explained a team handball's size by comparing it against various members of the melon family, and when I found out that equestrian horses were listed as "equipment" I did a rant on the fact that horses needed passports to get into the country and dramatically produced one, so surely they needed an identity upgrade..

That sort of nonsense got me a hosting gig on Torino's Olympic Ice show, which is still one of my all-time favorite scams. Don't know if it's still kicking around, but maybe my salute to Guido The Zamboni Guy is still out there from that wackadoodle show..

Don't know how I stay employed,

Mary Carillo is cool as hell. Also, someone please bring us her salute to Guido the Zamboni Guy.


Ask and you shall receive (h/t Kyle):


Let's Relive Mary Carillo's Great American Badminton Rant

If you've watched any of NBC's Olympic coverage, you've probably found yourself enjoying the work of Mary Carillo, whose woman-on-the-scene reports are one of the more enjoyable parts of the network's coverage of the games. But Carillo's never been better than she was at the 2004 summer games, when she unleashed one of the greatest monologues of all time.

What starts out as a simple explanation of the difference between standard and professional badminton gear becomes something so much greater. The story begins with Carillo's daughter getting the shuttlecock stuck in a tree, quickly transitions into a surreal, nightmarish depiction of suburban life, and ends with Christopher Burr—it's always Christopher Burr—nailing Carillo's car with a roller skate. The whole scene should have been a Chagall painting.

h/t Wesley