You are the common factor
in all of your problems.
That, and more waffles.
Ethnocentric
Republicans, "Waffles at Eleven"
Apparently I broke some news
yesterday: Beat writers tend
to disdain bloggers.
By misinterpreting an aspect of
a tweet I did overstate the case of one particular fuck you from the beats to
the blogs. And for that I apologized to Scott Merkin as I'll apologize to Dan
Hayes now, as the incorrect passage was excised. But the larger issue--a
haughtiness that comes, perhaps naturally, with the beat territory--remains.
I'm not sure how that comes as a
shock. I was once fervently pro-traditional media and anti-blog, at least in
one specific aspect: collaboration. In the traditional
publication-editor-writer relationship, there are crucial checks and balances,
copyediting, and brainstorming, all of which give traditional media a huge
advantage over even the best lone-wolf blogger. It is a rare case where a
self-published piece (and that includes the "big" bloggers) doesn't
have outright grammar errors, if not larger issues of sourcing, attribution,
context.
But my view has changed per my
last experience with traditional media. Although Comcast boasted no publication
per se, I wrote thousands of words per day for the CSNChicago site. Mistakes
were caught and headlines improved, sure--but not often enough. Editors have been
replaced by producers, whose responsibilities only partially involve editing,
too often only after a piece has been uploaded live to a site.
So the job of copyediting,
brainstorming, fact-checking and so on--a process that used to be
collaborative--is increasingly falling to writers and writers alone. Are many
of us up for the task? Sure. But presumptively and virtually eliminating the
job of "editor" in electronic media bodes poorly for its future.
Thus I have no choice but to
modify my stance, given that all too often a beat writer is a blogger, with greater access,
responsibility, stature, and pay.
At any rate, yesterday's post
dealt with the White Sox beat forsaking the blogosphere, something I see as a
very valuable asset--often in a rather uppity or resentful manner. Pretty much
as simple as that. And who knows, perhaps the Twitterpating that went on
yesterday surrounding that post and the larger issue of getting to the bottom
of Chris Sale's velocity issues will actually lead to a better relationship
between the beat and fans.
I might have been different from
the rest of my peers last season in that I was flying fairly solo in my writing
endeavors. But when a fan was bowled over by a piece, it became a major
editorial board vote and I took it as incentive to keep digging in that
direction. And if a blog posted an intriguing question that hadn't been
answered on the beat, I saw the opening and took it.
Two quick, late cases in point,
September 2011. Cleveland Indians pitchers had been drilling White Sox with
impunity, ably noted on Twitter. At the first pregame opportunity, I went to
Sale, Sergio Santos, and Paul Konerko to get a read on why Chicago hurlers
weren't retaliating, and whether or not retaliation was just an NFLization of
baseball in the first place, no longer playing a role in today's game.
Upon Ozzie's resignation, it was
larry at South Side Sox who captured his blog post stating he was headed to the
Marlins before it was pulled down. I happened to catch his tweet and passed the
news on, fully crediting his find. Thanks to larry's open eyes, I was able to
squeeze the fact into coverage as early as my rough gamer, before Ozzie had
left the field. That made my story was the only one with apparent confirmation
on where Ozzie was headed.
To me, that's just using open,
available and willing resources, nothing to be intimidated or put off by. Had I
worked this 2012 season on the beat, I'm sure I would only have increased my
dialogue with fans and blogs, especially with Comcast moving on to more unified
and collaborative blog overall.
While I hope White Sox beat
writers begin to see some in the blogosphere as collaborative partners, I have
my doubts.
* * *
I heard from Merk yesterday, and
he wasn't happy, beyond my misinterpretation of the #GoBlue tweet cheer. But he
jumped to some conclusions that were likely spur of the moment, thus untrue. As
much as he thought my chastising of he and Dan's reactions was a cheap shot,
his complaint that "I was recording everything" was a similar cheap
shot.
But in the spirit of clearing
the air, I'll open the door to the press box a bit wider. That comes with
hazards, but I imagine no one will object to my reflections this time around.
Mark Gonzales of the Tribune is
not the longest-tenured White Sox beat, but he is the most tenured of the
writers. Alhough he blushes the notion away, he's a future Hall-of-Famer. There
is not a more genuine guy out there, and that's a quality especially hard to
find in sports journalism. Given all I knew of the horribleness of Tribune
personnel before meeting Mark, I was utterly, pleasantly shocked by how great a
guy he is.
On a personal note, Mark
displayed kinship I had perhaps not yet earned, which stood out particularly
with his disgust at how Comcast treated me. It was nobody's burden, of course,
but Gonzo was the only one of my peers who offered any sort of serial sympathy
for my plight. And beyond that, he has always been willing to offer supportive
words for my actual work--as many as I ever got from my employer itself.
Merk has perhaps the most
difficult job of all, both in that MLB keeps him hopping year-round and in that
he has tighter editorial line that can't be crossed. I wonder sometimes how he
would do without positive-spin restrictions, but then, he's chronically nice
enough that it's hard to imagine him wielding a poison pen. Merk and I are fans
of each other's work and we have been longtime (mostly de facto) teammates in
White Sox Magazine. I do regret ticking him off, whether or not we agree to
disagree per blogging.
Daryl Van Schouwen came to the
beat in 2011 and had the considerable challenge of following in Joe Cowley's
footsteps. He has proven to be the reasoned, assuring voice (say, a Robin
Ventura) following one much yappier (Ozzie, anyone?). Cowley himself, I have
many harsh words for. But it would be remiss of me to not say that while
anything but brotherly, Joe has both complimented my work for its uniqueness
and in his own way looked out for me, a newbie, on the beat. I wish I would
have gotten to enjoy more authentic Joe on the beat, not the more clownish
center-stage Cowley.
Doug Padilla, dearly departed to
the Cubbies beat, was my closest competitor as such last year. Both he and Joe
share a yearning for the spotlight, which can only help you in this line of
work. Doug had a strange propensity to want to comment on my every outfit,
which is a little odd for a guy wearing chronic polos and jeans. But he and I
faced some similar challenges, both in the direction of coverage and in lugging
around extra equipment: he audio, me video. Maybe I'll finally get to buy him a
beer one day.
While I can't make heads or
tails of ESPN's plan for baseball coverage in Chicago (and really, ESPN, ugh),
I'll say that Jon Greenberg is by far the best columnist we have in town,
across sports.
Scot Gregor is the longest
tenured White Sox writer and has had the considerable challenge of adjusting
almost exclusively to home coverage as the Daily Herald has shifted its
mission. He still finds a unique angle to report from, and has worked hard to
be the closest to Paul Konerko among the writers; you can't do worse than the
Captain.
As for Scot's admitted
old-school approach to bloggers, well, he's made his feelings known. I don't
agree with them, and I still react to his back-and-forth with South Side Sox
per Dayan Viciedo with sheer amazement. Did I use his curmudgeonly attitude to
advance a relationship with "outside" media and fans, to help
emphasize myself as a different flavor? Sure. I'm guessing I'm not the first to
do so--and if I was guilty of anything, it's that I overprioritized my true
boss, the fan.
I also had a lot of fun with two
other "home" media, the AP's Travis Miller and The Northwest Herald's
Meghan Montemurro. Talking to Edwin Jackson and Gavin Floyd, respectively, was
never the same without them.
Yesterday I made a brusque brush
of WSCR's Chris Rongey as gruff, but wouldn't you be, doing 162 postgames or more
a year? Ranger is a calming and reserved presence in the clubhouse and dugout,
sorta wry, sorta mysterious. As has been pointed out to me, his debates with
fans even on Twitter are met with increasing respect on his end, and that's a
wonderful sign.
I'll make no secret that two
folks who performed above and beyond on my behalf at Comcast, producers Jeremy
Lynn and J.J. Stankevitz. Jeremy was extremely engaging when it came to
brainstorming and feedback, making him a standout editor for me as well as a
true partner. J.J. was only just transitioning into a true support position
there as the season wore on, but his unfailing energy on the night of Ozzie's
departure made our total coverage package better than anyone's on that night.
I know little of my successor at
CSN, other than to acknowledge he's brought a lot of energy with him, and that
alone provides promise. I'd like to see Dan liven up what can be a pretty
stolid beat. There will probably be a few missteps as he adjusts to the
responsibility and humidity of his new home, but those missteps will be nothing
his predecessor didn't do, and then some.
When I left Comcast, I had a lot
to say, and in a rare twist for me, I mostly didn't say it. I left with a
gracious mea culpa of a message to those I knew there. I sent a mock news
release that edged more toward gallows humor to my peers on the beat. And that's
it. For now, though there is unimaginably more to comment on, that's where I'll
keep it.
I've benefited from the
kindnesses of many along my sportswriting path: Steve Greenberg, Jason
Langendorf, William Wagner, Scott Reifert, Anthony Hyde, Adam Kempenaar, Ben
Osborne, Ming Wong in particular. I believe I have paid that forward with
interest; as a former editor I've advanced story payments to help writers
through rough patches, ghostwritten for my own pubs to free up budget. I've led
writers to jobs permanent and freelance. I've offered an ear, a red pen, an
encouraging word to keep others going.
Being on the beat is being part
of a less intense, more sedentary, but still bonded band of brothers. I enjoyed
my brief time in that brotherhood and hope that came clear in both my writing
and my personal interactions. I said it yesterday: As much as it is hard for a
fan to believe, the beat job is near impossible. For that alone, the beats earn
our admiration even as they dodge our arrows.
This mea culpa disguised as
insight and explanation could end up eulogy. I truly don't know where to head
from here. It could be a post tomorrow, or it could be retirement to the farm,
where I will cheer on the first-place Pale Hose in a way I (mostly, right Joe
and Doug?) couldn't in the press box.
For now, just bang the gong.
