Reilly stands up to the pressure

I went to see Rick Reilly's debut as a stand-up comedian on stage Tuesday night at Comedy Works. I left the place secure in knowing that he won't be giving up that cushy back-page column gig at Sports Illustrated any time soon.

It's not that Reilly isn't funny. He is. But he isn't Jerry Seinfeld funny. Not yet. Not Jerry Seinfeld funny, not Jerry Lewis funny, not Jerry Lee Lewis funny, not even Jerry Springer funny. I'd say I expected Reilly to be as funny as Jerry ... Rice. Or Condoleeza Rice. That would be Rice -- you know, like cooked after one minute on the microphone.

Instead, Reilly turned out to be more like Mac. Not Bernie Mac. Nooo, man, not Bernie Mac. Just Mac, as in one of those frozen mac-and-cheese microwave entrees. The guy was frozen stiff at first, and needed every bit of five minutes to warm up to the moment.

Seriously, 'Riles' did fine. I give him credit for trying stand-up at Comedy Works. He needed the experience, having a gig on Thursday as the opening "act" for Sinbad at a fundraiser for Community Reach Center. For real. Rick Reilly, the author -- did I mention his new book titled "Shanks for Nothing"? -- is the opener for the famous comedian Sinbad.

So Reilly places a call to Comedy Works owner Wende Curtis looking for stage time. The club gives him a five-minute set. He shows up with a friend, some 6-foot-8 dude named Billy who was wearing a tie-dyed T-shirt and calling himself Vanilla Something or another. Turns out he wants to try standup too. I re-named him 'Nilla T, to save face and any club cred he might have.

Keep in mind, Tuesday nights are the club's "New Talent" night. It's an organized open mic night, with a mix of newbies wanting to break in alongside of veterans who are working their way up the comedy ladder. While the other comics fiddle and fidget around the green room in the minutes leading up to the start of the show, Reilly works out his nervousness by signing copies of his new book -- did I mention the book? -- "Shanks for Nothing."

'Riles' seems relaxed, seated in the back of the club sipping soda, injured Achilles, crutch and all. You could throw anything and everything at him, and he's going to stay calm and cool. That's any and everything except the restroom sink. See, there are notes scribbled on his cheat palm, and he can't afford to have them washed away.

Other comedians are checking out the pecking order of the show. What does Reilly do? He steps out for an interview with CBS4. The interview ends, the show begins and so does the wait for Reilly. He's the third comic, and his introduction from emcee Ron Ferguson draws a nice round of laughter -- something about how he has been on Oprah and her show.

Reilly takes to the stage and grabs the stool. Never mind that he's trying to add "stand-up" comedian to his resume. The guy starts his career in stand-up by sitting down. 'Ladies and Gentlemen -- welcome to tonight's edition of First Comic Sitting . . .' Reilly apologizes for having a crutch, then tells jokes -- or brags depending on how you took it -- about his crutch, the Achilles injury, being on Oprah's show, being at the Sports Illustrated swimsuit photo shoot, being from Colorado and hating Nebraska, raising teenagers . . . the man talks about everything in five minutes of stage time except of course, his book. He leaves to a well-deserved round of cheers from an audience that probably anticipated an Oprah-like announcement of a Reilly book giveaway. Those people left the club thinking, "Shanks . . . for nothing."

Afterward, the club's new talent coordinator, David Gray, tells me he's impresed by Reilly's effort. Meanwhile Reilly is chilling in the green room, grinning ear-to-ear like he just finished his first monster roller-coaster ride without hurling his breakfast.

Sitting with club rep Susan Collyar and noted comedy writer Todd Jordan, Reilly fesses up to the differences between being a stand-up at a comedy club, as opposed to sitting on a TV talk-show set next to the likes of David Letterman.

"I thought you'd ask me the difference between doing stand-up and sports writing," Reilly said. "It's the delete key. I think (stand-up) is scary because, on Letterman you just answered questions. But the people here tonight were good, I thought. Man, it was scary. I haven't been that scared since I started playing piano, had a recital and it was all eight-year-old girls and me.

"I have a newfound respect for stand-up comedy. That was scary."

The only thing missing is the syringe. Five minutes on stage and Reilly is addicted to stand-up comedy. But the cool thing is, there's no asterisk next to his first Comedy Works set because he did it all without with the aid of performance-enhancing substances.

Not that his performance on Tuesday night couldn't have used some enhancement. But 'Riles' has club cred now, and that's all that matters in my book.

Oh yeah -- did I mention his book? "Shanks for Nothing" is available at local book stores.

The crux of this column was: "I'm funnier in person than Reilly, and Reilly's funnier in print than me."

But seriously folks, what can be said about Reilly's standup that hasn't been said about Katie Hnida's kicking ...

Regardless of how Reilly fared, may I make a suggestion? Next time you decide to write a review of someone trying out stand-up comedy, please spare the readers your own material.Mac and cheese? Rice? Those jokes didn't even make sense

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