Around this time of year, with the football season in full swing and the baseball playoffs just starting up, I get fed up with the sports media and launch into a tirade of how awful it is. Two years ago, I made the groundbreaking assertion that Joe Buck and Tim McCarver are horrible announcers. Last year, I made the same pronouncement about ESPN. Truly, these were earth-shattering observations.
Before I launch into this year’s edition, I would like to update and possibly revise my previous comments. Joe Buck and Tim McCarver are still terrible. Nothing new there, except maybe we’re a year closer from them getting fired or dying. While Buck and McCarver have maintained the same level of mediocrity over the past two years, ESPN has devolved into a degenerate mess. Every highlight is two seconds long, every segment is sponsored, and every Disney vehicle is cross-promoted to death.
But enough dwelling in the obvious. Today I will direct my wrath towards the next offender: the magazine profile puff piece. You’re probably already familiar with this type of article: the author picks the new flavor of the week, talks to his dad or childhood friend, and writes a stunning portrayal of this amazing human being. Rinse, Repeat, and you’ve got the entire issue.
Let me spare you the $3.95 for next week’s Sports Illustrated and paraphrase most of the articles.
LIFE LESSONS: Athlete X lived in the inner city, but he was good at basketball. His grandmother raised him because both his parents joined a traveling Wild West show. In spite of this, he spent hours on the court near his house—which
had one hoop with no net, got recruited, made it big in the league, and now that court has two hoops. What a guy.
COUNTRY BOY: Athlete Y lived in rural Nebraska and was the coach’s son. He could hit a major-league fastball at age 3. He hit 800 homeruns in high school and was drafted in the first round. Everyone had high expectations for him. After struggling in the minors for 3/4/5/6/7 years, he finally made it to the big show and is having a breakout year. What a guy.
JUMPING HURDLES: Athlete Z used to be good, but he blew out his knee/took drugs/beat his wife. He dropped completely out of sports, tried to become a faith healer, but now he’s back with a new mission—to regain his former glory. What a guy.
UNDERDOGS: Nobody believed in team Q. They finished in last place/didn’t play in a big conference/lost a bunch of scholarships because some kids got paid $50k to work at a car wash. But, a new coach came to town and he taught this group of former losers how to win. Now they’re a better team. What a story.
I could go on (the former athlete’s son, the guy who doesn’t talk to the media and now everyone hates, the obscure sports star), but my head hurts. I used to try to care about these stories, but they all started blending together. It’s time for action and this column will be at the forefront of a sweeping change in sports journalism.
First thing we do is kill all the reporters. And by kill, I mean don’t let them talk to the players or coaches. This would eliminate the pointless post-game press conferences where everyone tries to increase the number of words spoken without actually saying (I think the current record is held by Bill Parcells, who once used 23582 words to tell reporters that he was angry). It would also eliminate the biases reporters develop after getting to know the team. The only cons I see to this change would be less-than-thrilling game stories in the newspaper, but I think there are three people left who still read those. While this might make all sports articles pretty boring, I would make an exception for those players or coaches who are willing to throw their teammates or opponents under the bus. Those quotes are always great.
But what about investigative sports reporting? How will reporters find out about pending trades, firings, hirings, or signings if can’t talk to anyone on the team? Instead of each outlet trying to scoop each other, every team should appoint one official “Source” to “leak” stories to all the outlets. Maybe it’s because I don’t work for a daily newspaper, but I see little point in reporters trying to scoop other people for these types of stories. We’re all going to find out about the trade when it actually happens and impacts something. Who cares if it’s an hour earlier or later? Since the team officials are going to “deny” the rumor anyway, we would at least make the leaks more accurate.
To replace all those empty magazine pages formerly filled by player profiles, writers should write stories that focus on the process and strategy of sports.
What about an article on minor league baseball marketing techniques (Did you know that the Albuquerque minor league is called the Isotopes after the Simpsons episode where Homer goes on a hunger strike to stop the Springfield Isotopes from moving to Albuquerque?) Or how about an actual analysis of every team, instead of the usual “Derek Jeter is a good player so the Yankees will win” bullshit we’re used to reading. Or how Al Saunders actually developed his 700-page playbook (Is it actually 700 pages? Or is it 678 pages and they just rounded up? How heavy is it?).
While I expect the sports industry to completely ignore these suggestions, as the bulk of product endorsements rely on using the personalities of ego-centric athletes, the least we can do is put a moratorium on these types of stories. So, to you, SI editor, I issue this request: instead of eight player profiles this week, how about just seven? Then after a few months, drop it down to six, and so forth. Please?
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