There were few, if any, details regarding Shane Riordan’s sudden departure from 670 The Score.
The executive producer and Chicago radio personality announced his departure from the station last week. Although his announcement indicated that it seemingly wasn’t mutual, Riordan didn’t reveal the reason for the split.
Matt Spiegel and Laurence Holmes spoke candidly about Riordan’s departure from the station. While they didn’t offer specifics then, they said it was a management decision, even if their respective tones suggested the departure wasn’t as black and white as that.
Beyond Riordan’s initial announcement and Spiegel and Holmes’s reaction to it, there wasn’t much to go on. That changed over the weekend when Riordan finally broke his initial silence, thanking his followers for their “incredible support.”
“My grandpa took me to a Schaumburg Flyers game when I was 9 years old. We went all the time. He loved to sit in the lawn and watch bad independent league baseball. And I did too… because he did.
“I had never seen a live radio show before but Mike North & Doug Buffone were right there when we walked in. We listened to WGN (for Cubs games) & US99 a TON growing up so I knew I was obsessed with radio but had no idea an all-sports station like 670 The Score existed.
“He let me sit there for a couple hours because I just had to hear it. I felt like they were in my head. They shared my thoughts and had these microphones that allowed them to entertain so many goddamn people. I needed it.
“I remember asking my dad when I got home, ‘That’s a job? I can do THAT?’
“A year later, the White Sox hosted the All-Star game. My parents took me to the fan fest where Mac, Jurko & Harry were doing their show live. Forget the baseball. I wanted to watch these guys talk on the radio. Just insane. The coolest job on earth.
“All of that convinced me there was no single thing I wanted to do more than sports talk radio. Anywhere in the world. But specifically in my hometown and for 670 The Score.
“I knew at 9 years old. And after some tunnel vision and a WILD amount of work, I got to do it. For so long. Working with some of the most talented people I’ve ever known. I learned more than I could have ever imagined from some of the smartest people in the industry, but for now, I am just so appreciative.
“If I’m honest, though, I’m also ready to move on. It’s hard to hit the ceiling in a place you thought you’d be forever. I was an intern. I was part time. I was an executive producer for the Cubs radio network. I was higher up on the management side in MARKET THREE when I was like 25 years old. I was the executive producer for two different disgustingly successful afternoon drive shows. I did exactly what grade school Shane wanted to do.
“Unfortunately, this is all to say that my time is up there. The fact that it was my dream job isn’t enough to justify staying and continuing not making enough to support the family I want as badly as I do.
“The Score raised me. I am so eternally grateful and equally as devastated. But you can’t finish a book without turning the page. Thank God I know how to read.”
So, while “management decision” was tossed around on air, Riordan’s full reflection paints a more layered picture. It doesn’t sound like the decision was entirely mutual, but it also wasn’t completely forced. The passion for radio was still there — that much was obvious — but so was the frustration. After years of grinding his way up from intern to executive producer, the job he’d always dreamed about was no longer sustainable.
Riordan made it clear he wasn’t bitter, just honest. Doing what you love only goes so far when it stops providing what you need. He checked every box that nine-year-old Shane could have imagined, but in the end, that wasn’t enough to justify staying.
It’s a harsh reality that many people in the media understand all too well. Sometimes, the dream job stops making sense, even if you still love it.