Who knew there were so many ways to pronounce the name "Keith Van Horn"?

If you're reading it right now, you might pronounce the name of the Knicks forward
 prosaically, as in "Keith...Van...Horn." But you could also try a perky "KEITH v'n
 Hooooornnnnn," a mellifluous "Keeeeeith Vaannn Hoooorrrnn," or even a raspy "Keith...Vaann
 Horrrrrrrrrn" - especially if you're trying to land one of the great part-time jobs in New
 York: backup public address announcer at Madison Square Garden.

I know, because last week, I was that man - one of eight, sports-crazed guys auditioning for
 the Garden brass in the world's most famous arena.

The other guys - most of whom had vast experience in radio and PA announcing - saw me as a
 mere sideshow, that quirky newspaper columnist who was simply doing a stunt for a story.
 But I was in it to win it. Ever since my college radio days (hey, I was doing "Nude Radio"
 at WBRU in Providence long before Howard Stern ever even THOUGHT to measure his penis),
 I've wanted to get back behind a microphone - especially if it would mean getting paid to
 yell things like, "Number 21...Charrrrrr-lieeeeeeee Waaaaaard."

Before the audition began, a Knick entertainment coordinator, Gary Winkler, handed us a
 script and told us what he was looking for.

"Clarity, projection and voice quality, of course," Winkler said. "But we really want you to
 ham it up. A straight read won't get you the job."

That was all I needed to hear. As they say in the announcing business, let us get ready to
 rumble.

Not so fast. Even empty, it wasn't easy filling Madison Square Garden with my velvety dulcet
 tones. In fact, I never yelled so loudly in my entire life. Despite the microphone two
 inches from my mouth and the Garden's omnipotent sound system, I found myself screaming
 like a cartoon character who just dropped an anvil on his foot.

Over the top? You better believe it. I recited the promo about Knick souvenirs so
 enthusiastically that several of the guys told me later that they were thinking of buying a
 t-shirt. But my enthusiasm got the better of me: Midway through my mock introduction of the
 Indiana Pacers, I realized that I was announcing the players as if they, not the Knicks,
 were the home team.

So I did what any self-respecting announcer would do: I bumped it up yet another notch.
 Summoning my inner crack addict, I went so far over the top that I was levitating. The
 Knick captain wasn't merely "Allan Houston," but "Allllll-eennnnnn Yooouuuuu-stuuuuuunnnn."
 Van Horn ended up being introduced as "Keeeeeeeeeith Vaaaaaaannnn Hoooooooooooorn." And by
 the time I got to center Dikembe Mutumbo, well, let's just say the 7'2" center has a
 perfect name for gratuitous vowel-elongation.

Later, I found out that Gordon Deal, the former news radio reporter, had gotten the job (he
 deserved it, too: Deal is a guy who can say a name like "Allan Houston" and somehow get a
 guttural growl).

I asked Anucha Browne Sanders, the Knick official who chose Deal over me, what went wrong.

"His voice just came through deeper," she said. "You had incredible charisma, but your
 voice was higher."

So there it was: I'd gone so far over the top, that I'd actually kicked myself in the butt.

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gersh.kuntzman@verizon.net