Did You Hear That?

"Did you hear that?" I ask my brother John.  "Hear what?" he says. "That."  "That what?"  "That guy talking about the Bruins."  "I figured it was Howard.  I know how intense he gets about his team."  "It's not Howard.  Howard's at work."  "You have a party line."  "No, I don't."  "Yes, you do."  "No, it's worse than that."  "What could be worse than a party line?"  "A sports radio station is coming through my phone line."  "How nice for you," John says, aware of the hell I go through on a daily basis.  I'm surrounded by sports nuts.  Screaming, raging, door-slammers.  Individuals who take their sports very seriously.  Over the years, I've found ways to cope.  Mostly, I leave the house.  But now, I find it cruel that the sports mania extends, inexplicably, to my own phone line.  I don't remember putting in a request for that. 
I wonder if AT&T added a new "app" without my approval:  "For an extra $20 a month, you can get sports radio piped into your phone line."  I would've checked "Please, God, no!" on such an offer.  Of course, I can't speak for hubby.  I call him at work, and over animated sports chatter, I ask him, point blank, "Honey, by any chance did you tell the phone company to go ahead and install sports radio on the phone line?"  "The Clippers beat Minnesota?" he says. "That's unexpected."  "What?"  "Sorry, I was listening to the score report." "So... did you order it or not?" "Vancouver lost to the Ducks last night. Sweet."  "Howard!  Yes or no?"  "Can you Tivo the Knicks game?  ESPN at 5."  Click.  Next, I call the phone company.  I'm still on hold.  It's been three days, but I'm not giving up.  In the meantime, if you're interested, I can tell you my picks for the Orange, Fiesta, Sugar and Rose Bowls.