''The place,'' radio veteran John Gorman says, ''was as bizarre as people thought it was.''

The place was WMMS (100.7-FM) in its '70s and '80s heyday. The era of Kid Leo and Murray ''Get Down'' Saul and Jeff & Flash. Of Coffee Break Concerts and feuds with other stations, and the World Series of Rock concerts.

It was a sound that Gorman, who was part of WMMS from 1973 to 1986, insists was not album rock, as the station was often described (and dismissed). He thinks of it more as full-service, whether it was carrying the news about the death of John Lennon, delivering oldies weekends and the Isley Brothers, or embracing the artists coming out of a then-new MTV.

It was brash. It was aggressive. It was people talking music and strategy in hallways instead of in formal meetings.

It was Lou Reed declining a sports bet with Kid Leo because, Reed said, ''I could sign something, but you wouldn't be able to read it, and if I lost the bet I wouldn't pay it off anyway.'' It was Bruce Springsteen doing a promo that said, ''I don't have a radio but Miami Steve does — and he lets me listen to WMMS.''

Above all else, it was the Buzzard. And so Gorman's memoir of his years at the station is called, above all else,
The Buzzard, with the subtitle Inside the Glory Days of WMMS and Cleveland Rock Radio. (Gray & Co. is the publisher. Tom Feran co-authored the book with Gorman. I have co-written two books with Feran for Gray.)

The book has been years in the making, Gorman, now a media consultant, said in a recent telephone interview. He had wanted Akron's Rhonda Kiefer, his assistant programmer at the station, to write the book.

''She kept every memo, every note,'' Gorman said. ''She had everything, and she had it filed month by month, year by year. . . . And I had all these boxes, too. I told her to take them and do the book. She refused. She said, 'It has to be you.'''

As music director, program director and operations manager for WMMS, Gorman was in a unique position to see the station from all sides.

He can tell, for example, how 'MMS would sneak advance copies of unreleased LPs like the Rolling Stones' Emotional Rescue. It then began playing them on a Friday night when the labels' staffs had taken off for the weekend. So they couldn't hit 'MMS with a cease-and-desist order until Monday.

He remembers how artists would come to town as virtual unknowns and return (thanks to radio airplay) as demigods.

''You could follow an artist right from the beginning,'' he told me. ''You could see someone like Bad Company come in and play the Agora, and then turn into an artist that's playing the (Richfield) Coliseum.''

In the book, he is blunt about payola and other tricks at competitors, and says the golden age of WMMS ended in 1988 with its own scandal, ballot-stuffing in an annual Rolling Stone poll after Gorman had left.

The story of his life in local radio, good and bad, ''had to be told,'' Gorman said.

But it was a long story. Gorman's manuscript eventually ran 1,500 pages. David Gray of Gray & Co. then put Gorman together with Feran, who shaped the manuscript into a 282-page book.

If nothing else, the book is a record of an era that now largely resides in people's memories.

Recordings of live concerts and classic interviews were in some cases taped over, Gorman said. Others were haphazardly stored at the station's transmitter and ''if the flood didn't get 'em, the raccoons did,'' Gorman said. ''I went to the transmitter in '94 and my heart just sank. There was 2 inches of water on the floor and tapes thrown every which way.''

In addition, as Gorman was leaving, 'MMS was moving closer to a programming crossroads. Even in its heyday, Gorman recalls in the book, the station was trying to balance an older audience that wanted album rock (and probably fondly remembered 'MMS' pre-Buzzard mushroom logo) with younger listeners eager for current sounds.

''It would have reached a point where we had to decide, do we want to grow older with the audience, with the same staff and programmers, or do we want to introduce younger things?'' he said. ''It would have lasted (in its '80s format) a few more years, but eventually it would have had to change.''

And it would have had to survive in a different world, where radio mega-networks prevail. Today, WMMS is part of the Clear Channel empire.

The mega-network, which can program each of an array of stations to narrow formats in a single market, ''is an absolutely terrible idea,'' Gorman said. In addition to taking some of the local quality out of stations, he said, ''it eliminates competition.''

''Competition definitely made (WMMS) better,'' Gorman said, and his book has numerous stories about the Buzzard fending off new challengers. ''We had great competitors. Radio in this market was very strong, very professional.

''And the real winners were the listeners. We were the best, but a lot of stations kept us on our toes.''

These days, Gorman said, ''I listen to public radio, and a lot of Internet radio. There isn't any one station I could lock on.''