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Hall has done some punching of his own, especially at his rival on CBS, Pat Sajak. Both Hall and Sajak launched new talk shows at the same time last winter, but it was the white-bread Sajak, host of the top-rated game show Wheel of Fortune, who got most of the attention. "Sajak was always the golden boy," gripes Hall, "though nothing on paper makes him more eligible for that title." Sajak's CBS show, after a strong start, has been sinking in the ratings. "As long as there's an alternative to Sajak," offers Hall, "the public will always take it."
He has kinder words for Leno, Carson's regular fill-in and current heir apparent: "He's a pure funny man, more exciting and interesting than Sajak." Hall also praises David Letterman for "forcing America to loosen its collar a bit and not take things too seriously." Hall's top praise, however, is reserved for Carson: "He has an incredible understanding of when he's needed and when he's not. He'll insert comedy when there's a bad guest and stay out of Robin Williams' way. Doing a talk show for him is like a snooze alarm on a clock: he can find it in the dark. He doesn't care about numbers or competitors. It's like Tyson: nobody can beat him but him."
Hall's admiration for Carson has a long history. Growing up in an inner-city neighborhood of Cleveland, Hall used to set up chairs in his basement and pretend he was Johnny. Years later, between appearances on Hollywood Squares and The Match Game, he sneaked into Carson's NBC studio, sat in his chair and practiced saying, "We'll be right back." Says Hall without a trace of irony: "Johnny is the architect of all my dreams."
Dreams like that were a way of escaping from a grim ghetto childhood. At four, Hall recalls sitting on the toilet and watching a rat run between his legs. His next-door neighbor was shot during a pickup football game. Hall recently returned home for a visit and reflected on the fates of his high- school classmates. "Von is dead, killed in a fight over a girl. Weathersby is dead, killed over an argument over 'last call' in a bar. Freddie's in jail. Jack was picked up for selling cocaine and hanged himself in the prison cell. Tyrone, the star basketball player, is in jail on two counts of murder. 'Yo, man,' I said to myself. 'Nobody got out but you.' "
Hall's father, a Baptist preacher, was an old-fashioned disciplinarian who forbade dancing in the house and made his son dress up for dinner. He had frequent fights with Hall's strong-willed mother Annie, many of them over which radio station to listen to. (Dad liked gospel and Harry Belafonte; Mom preferred the Top 40.) "It wasn't unusual for me to see my dad go for a gun during the arguments," he recalls. "It wasn't just screaming -- much deeper and more traumatic. I developed a rash and started sleepwalking. They'd find me in the garage in the morning, sleeping in the car."