(Hopefully the video below in the ESPN is viewable for you)

In the spring of 2015, Jeremy Conn is co-hosting a sports talk radio show in Baltimore. One afternoon the show gets a call from "Mo in Glen Burnie." Conn doesn't think much of it; there are lots of calls and lots of callers. He says "What's up dude" in a sort of flat monotone, mostly because he expects the caller to do what most every caller does: complain about something the Orioles or Ravens did. He expects to hear a gruff voice because, well, this guy's name is Mo from Glen Burnie and that sounds like someone who probably lays brick.

But the voice is not gruff. "Hey! Hey! What's going on, guys!" Mo from Glen Burnie shouts. He sounds like Elmo from "Sesame Street," a high-pitched, peppy lilt slathered in bubbles. His voice is cute, like a child's, which makes sense because it turns out that Mo from Glen Burnie doesn't lay brick and is, in fact, 9 years old and calling into the radio station while his mother is at work.
Mo becomes a staple of the show. And one day, Conn and his then-co-host, Scott Garceau, are sitting around before they go on air talking about how different Mo is than what they anticipated on that first afternoon. The station's promotions manager happens to overhear their conversation. "Are you guys talking about Mo Gaba?" he asks. Conn shrugs. "I guess so," he says. "I don't know his last name. Why?"

"Oh, Mo is amazing," the promotions manager replies. "Everyone knows Mo. He's famous."