The Firm of Harris and Marang

The Firm of Harris and Marang is Portland sports coverage with its elbows out. It sounds live, local, and slightly overcaffeinated. The show moves quickly from Blazers memory to roster math to baseball economics, then swerves into a joke about food, phones, horses, or whatever else crossed the room. The Blazers are the gravitational pull. Damian Lillard, LaMarcus Aldridge, Tom Dundon, Wemby matchups, playoff nerves, franchise storytelling, fan grudges, and old wounds around Neil Olshay all get treated like part of the same civic argument. The speakers care about what a team signals. They care about who has leverage, who gets remembered, who gets forgiven, and who looks cheap when a franchise worth billions is counting late checkout fees. Basketball talk can be loose and personal one minute, then sharply tactical the next. A Spurs preview turns into minutes management, defensive assignments, and the need to punish every stretch without Victor Wemanyama on the floor. Baseball brings out another gear. Mike Trout, Griffey, Pujols, Ichiro, Shohei, Aaron Judge, Bonds, Steve Cohen, Mark Walter, the Dodgers, the Marlins, the Padres, the Pirates, the Reds, and the Guardians become pieces in a larger argument about greatness, ownership, money, marketing, and why people watch. Football is framed through infrastructure, not just quarterback fever. The show asks whether a young passer is being protected or set up to get wrecked behind a bad line. Ten Toes Down gives the format a recurring spine: take the question, plant both feet, and answer without hiding behind mushy caveats. The tone is blunt, funny, and occasionally absurd, but the sports point usually survives the detour. It is not polished national debate cosplay. It is Portland sports talk that remembers the station schedule, the text line, the local teams, the old resentments, and the fact that fans can smell a fake answer immediately.