Ten good reasons for a very good old rule
Dave Kindred |
March 1, 2011 8:10 a.m.
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10. The guy next to you may be sleeping.
9. You're liable to spill beer into your laptop.
8. It's conduct unbecoming a professional tweeter.
7. Roger Goodell will suspend you for four games.
6. You'll be mistaken for Dick Vitale.
5. Or Chris Berman.
4. If the guy next to you wakes up, you have to catch him up.
3. Trevor Bayne will expect a standing-o for the next 20 years.
2. You'll get kicked out, and they charge $5 for hot dogs out there.
1. There'll come a day when you say, "This is the day I paint my face!"
The Esquire magazine star, Chris Jones, recently wrote of press-box cheering as the moral equivalent of a person performing a scatological act "on the floor beside a delicious Chinese buffet that's hosting a children's birthday party and then going outside and killing a kindly, mystical hobo and using his stiffened corpse to derail a speeding locomotive, spilling a tanker filled with toxic chemicals into the world's last pristine river and killing all the fish, including the aged and orphans among them."
Somewhere between my reason #6 and Jones's stiffened corpse lies a middle ground of common sense supporting the no-cheering admonition likely created when men in fedoras hammered on typewriters in wooden ballparks. The issue came up again in February when the Daytona 500 produced its youngest winner ever, the 20-year-old rookie Trevor Bayne. As Bayne passed over the finish line, there was raucous cheering in the track's press box and its media center. At a post-race press conference, someone told the giddy Bayne, "You were responsible for getting this entire room to explode in applause."
"No way," Bayne said. "Thank you, guys."
The big story of Bayne's victory produced a little story of journalism with the men and women of the media choosing up sides. In the ensuing Twitterstorm, some argued in favor of the press-box cheering as evidence of passion for the moment. Others said it violated a basic tenet of journalism by transforming reporters into fans. My position is, why can't I have both? I want the passion and I want the clear-eyed reporting. I want my guy to be thrilled by what he sees and write the hell out of it. Be a fan – of journalism, of reporting, of writing. And shut up with the cheering. It's a newsroom, not a sports bar.
Dustin Long of Landmark Newspapers, last year's president of the National Motorsports Press Association, was troubled enough by the goings-on at Daytona to send me a note. He thought today's "new generation of journalists" might need a primer on workplace behavior – as provided by Long's boss, Tom White, the assistant sports editor of theVirginian Pilot.
"First time I found out a reporter was cheering on press row or the press box, I'd give him a stern warning," White told Long in an email exchange. "Second time, I'd fire him."
White's rationale: "Everyone is going to have internal feelings about who they want to win a game, hit a big shot, win a race . . . But to openly ‘root' for that to happen is unprofessional. You are ‘covering' these folks, so to shamelessly support a driver or a team is unprofessional." Remaining silent doesn't mean you aren't pumped up by seeing a new guy in Victory Lane, a 20-year-old who pulled an historic upset. "But let that come out in your writing/reporting, not with a fan-like cheer from a place where, dare I remind folks, YOU ARE PAID TO BE WORKING!!!"
Let's make a pit stop here for a note about NASCAR's media rooms: they're home to more than legitimate media members. Like many professional sports organizations, NASCAR gives media-room access to team members, sponsors, manufacturer reps, corporate VIPs, and assorted green flies sniffing around the goodies. The cheering for Bayne surely included contributions from folks other than journalists. That said, a reporter who has been everywhere in SportsWorld told me, "Newspapers have cut down their coverage so dramatically that the few reporters still traveling the circuit think they better make the best of it while they can. So they're having a good time. NASCAR press rooms are basically frat parties."
After Daytona, the new Motorsports Press president, Rea White of Foxsports.com, sent a note to all the association members urging them to keep working-media areas relatively quiet during working hours. She wrote, "To that end, and to continue to present a professional image as journalists, we should all work to refrain from cheering or shouting in the media center and press box as events unfold during a race and during the interviews that follow."
Partly, it's my nature to run silent. Mostly, I had never seen Red Smith or Shirley Povich do it. So I've never cheered in a press box – not even at Lake Placid on a winter night in 1980 when the United States met the Soviet Union in an Olympics hockey game that would decide the gold-medal winner. David Israel, then a Washington Star columnist, stood in the press area that night and said, "We're going to suspend the rules tonight, everybody. There will be cheering in the press box." It was enough for me just to be there as witness to that miracle, to see Jim Craig with the flag around his shoulders, to hear Herb Brooks say he'd told his players they were born for that moment. Absolutely, I wanted the Americans to win. It's always more fun to write a victory.
One thing more. I've never cheered, but I did rise in applause the day Arnold Palmer wept. It was 1994. At age 64, Palmer had been given an exemption into his first U.S. Open in 11 years. It was played on his home grounds of western Pennsylvania, at Oakmont, where he'd first played an Open 41 years earlier. He played poorly for two miserable hot days and came to the press tent afterwards in one more affirmation of the truth that few professional athletes ever treated the media with more respect than Palmer did. As he'd done forever, he answered our necessary questions about one more farewell in his great and long career. Then he moved toward an exit, tears in his eyes. We stood and applauded, all of us.
No. Applause. From. The. Media.
Ever.
I think there’s a difference between rooting someone on and applauding the moment.
You can recognize a great moment with applause without having cheered or rooted because of the accomplishment. I was not a Dale Earnhardt fan, but I applauded when he won the Daytona 500. I was not a Colorado Avalanche or Ray Bourque fan, but I applauded when he finally won the Stanley Cup.
It’s a line that those who weren’t there can’t distinguish. If it was people sitting there saying “Go Trevor” in the closing laps, then I would have an issue with it. If it was simple applause after Trevor closed out the win, then I have no issue with it because it was recognition of an incredible moment.
But I wasn’t there, so I would have to defer to those who were.
I’m not in the press box. When I’m at a sporting event, I’m not focused on the press box, I’m watching the event. If I’m a corporate sponser or a visitor to the press box I’m either watching the event from a better perspective, or I don’t really care about the event to begin with. The only interaction I have with the press is once the event is over, when the participants are interviewed or the event is being reported on, in print, electronically, over the radio or on the tv. This is the only time I care if the media is biased or reporting objectively. Personally I want the reporter to be a fan of the event & have an emotional connection to the event, regardless the reason. Because when an individual has an emotional investment in the event, that comes through in their reporting. That is all I care about, unbiased, objective reporting full of passion and emotion. Who cheers or doesn’t cheer in the pressbox has absolutely zero impact on that.
If you’re that worried about ethics, go talk to the people who make a living off tobbacco & alcohol & medical experiments, leave the reporter, cheering for a genuinely good thing alone.
What about drinking alcohol (sometimes to excess) in the pressbox? I’ve witnessed way too much of that, often by respected media types.
Hey, Instained! Our guru at Frontstretch.com, Tom Bowles was canned by SI because of his applause for Trevor Bayne.
I was like you when I was covering live sports. I tried to refrain from it. I wavered once, after Scottsburg and Austin fought for six overtimes in an Indiana Sectional final before Scottsburg prevailed. I simply stood up and clapped. That time, it was because I was responsible for covering both teams, and I was overcome by the emotion of the game and the play of two bunches of kids I had come to know. I explained that in the next week’s column, and got letters from both schools thanking me for it.
Thanks, Dave, for one of the best reads I’ve had the pleasure of absorbing in a long time….I was in the infield media center for Trevor Bayne’s Daytona 500 victory and did not cheer one iota, but I had to laugh when he put several journalists in their place when they questioned his youth…Been covering the Daytona 500 since 1979 – Dale Earnhardt’s rookie season – for the likes of the Daytona Beach News-Journal, The Orlando Sentinel, The Washington Times, SportsTicker, UPI, Reuters, U.S. Army, etc…Sincerely, Tim Hipps, U.S. Army Public Affairs/The Associated Press
Yep, me, too, David. Oakmont was my exception. I do confess to getting goosebumps, as I did that night at Lake Placid, having arrived late at the arena and shimming up the grandstand to hang by the railing and watch most of the last period.
Mostly the goosebumps came when my NY Daily News colleague Bill Madden told me he had gone in a VFW down the street and run into a little man holding fistful of small flags, handing them out with the general public with the mandate: “Go out in the street tonight and wave it. Tonight’s a night we can all be proud to be Americans.”
Agreed.
As a former sportswriter, I’ve been tempted, and I know sometimes the argument is made that sports is a venue where maybe we want a little fan in our reporter.
But I wouldn’t accept a political reporter standing up and cheering when a candidate made a great speech, and that means the standard holds across the board.
be a fan on your own time.
I wonder if some might have been mistaking cheering even rooting a “great writable moment” as “cheering” for Tyler Bayne. I think we can recognize and honor great singular moments in history, such as Oakmont or 1980 Lake Placid, without rooting for a particular person or team.
I’m repeating some of the above, but my two cents:
The most concerning thought reading the different writers on the subject (and the reader comments) is the confusion between objectivity and lack of passion. The best writers (like Dave) try in their humanness to not let any biases get in the way of their reporting. It would be like a fan of New York teams admiring a feat by a Los Angeles player/team. They may not root for or against the LA player/team, but they can admire, even get caught up emotionally in it. However, it is not because they are a fan and wish personally that they win or lose because of a rooting interest. I’ve seen some wonderfully passionate stories over the decades from writers that don’t seem to be caught up in rooting for teams/players in their writing.
Nobody is perfect, but aiming to be objective as a human being and not achieving it at 100% does not mean that the goal is not admirable nor unworthy to strive for. As the media continues to blur commentary and factual stories, the whole point of editors, news wires, and journalists as a whole is to present a complete, balanced portrayal. This does not mean that you can’t describe a dunk as spectacular, not note the emotional moment of Michael Jordan moment crying after a championship thinking about his dead father, nor the freshness of Trevor Bayne winning Daytona. It does mean, I hope, that what we seek out of journalism is the presentation of stories meaning a well-rounded summary, balanced as best as possible to get more sides when the story is deeper, and to not give any personal impression of cheerleading or vindictiveness in the writing.
Ideally, that leaves the commentaries to be commentaries, but does not leave out the passion of the event in a story. If it’s going to be one-sided (not all stories have to be one-sided), it should be fairly obvious that it is going to be one-sided. Looking like a fan, even if well-intentioned, gives the impression (not necessarily the reality) of potentially intentional bias. That impression must be avoided, even if understandably human. Never confuse passion in writing with appearing to root for or against the subject(s) of an article.
I appreciate Dave’s perspective here, but he spends a lot of words explaining how he has never cheered, then finishes with an instance in which he, well, kinda did just that.
“I’ve never cheered, but I did rise in applause.” So it’s OK if it’s a tepid cheer? Or just clapping. Or because someone was weeping?
I’m not sure what the take-away is here.
Yes, guilty. I am due Tom White’s “stern warning.” I have no defense for my once-in-50-years applause occasioned by an iconic athlete saying good-bye in tears at the ceremonial, sentimental end of an epoch-making run. It also mattered some that on his way out, he thanked the assembled iterati for what they had done for him for 40 years.
Thanks, Dave, for the response. I’m not saying you shouldn’t have applauded, but that moment illustrates that what’s meaningful is a personal thing – and rules/guidelines are impersonal, for a reason. I’m not sure how I feel about this particular guideline. If a writer applauds a 20-year-old kid who has a moment he feels is transcendant, then is that any less inappropriate than you applauding a legend who was saying goodbye? Don’t know.
Make that “trenscendent.”
Peter, I just know it can’t be a habit. Once every 50 years seems about right, provided the subject has opened his heart to you and treated you with respect for 40 of those years.
P.S.: I think “transcendant” is the word you wanted, just as “literati” was the word I meant to type.:-)
Nitpick, but the USA/USSR game in Lake Placid didn’t decide the gold medal.
I know I’m late to this one, but has anyone mentioned that perhaps SI shouldn’t have hired Mr. Bowles? My understanding, from reading his blog post on the frontstrech.com, is that SI hired the guy because he was a fan. To wit:
“… Sports Illustrated made a sudden, life-changing phone call to me in 2006. Turns out they’d discovered my writing here, on Frontstretch.com, then a fan site where I covered a sport I’d loved since I was eight years old. …”
How, then, can SI be shocked — shocked! — to learn that their hire acts like a fan in the press box? If you want a professional journalist, hire a professional journalist. My opinion.
It also should be pointed out somewhere that cheering in the press box, an essentially confined, private space, is not nearly as gauche as cheering down on press row where — in front of God and maybe 20,000 fans — you bring into disrepute yourself and all those unlucky enough to sit near you.