T
Tony Ortega
Guest
What a coincidence. Two dumbass sports columnists (Denver Post, SF Chronicle) who do the typical
brain-fart "item" columns (stringing together short observations separated by ellipses "...."
because their tiny brains can't conceive one column-length idea) both decide on the same day that
cycling isn't a sport. They're trolling, of course, and they'll no doubt get lots of angry email
from us cycling types. In the end, these morons aren't worth the spilled ink.
On the other hand, recent posts about how lame sportswriters are inspired me to share an anecdote
that provides some supporting evidence.
One of my best friends is a Belgian sports journalist who covers cycling. He was also, at one time,
one of only a handful of European writers who were credentialed to cover the NBA full time. Several
years ago, my friend flew in to visit me in Phoenix and cover a game, and he complained again and
again about what idiots American sportswriters are. He resented that he'd have to fight to get
one-on-one interviews with athletes and coaches. When I asked him why, he said that the practice
here is for a lot of American reporters to sit around in a group and lob extremely stupid
questions, hoping that something other than a barely coherent cliché came out of the subject. The
writers had got in the habit of asking questions they already knew the answer to, questions whose
answers were implied in the way they were asked. "Isn't it true that..." these questions always
began, my friend complained. (For a pertinent example, just watch how Frankie Andreu questions
Lance Armstrong after each stage. A non-journalist whose only training is from the kinds of
interviews he's been through himself, Andreu asks incredibly obvious non-questions that can only
elicit the most pat, boring responses. Don't get me wrong – I love Frankie, and always dug his Tour
diaries when he was riding. But he's no interviewer. Luckily for him, Armstrong usually comes up
with a decent soundbite nonetheless.) Anyway, my friend wanted one interview in particular, with
then-Phoenix Suns coach Danny Ainge. At the time, Ainge was new to coaching, and he'd turned around
a lousy team in a short period of time. Problem was, there were about ten writers loafing around in
Ainge's office, watching him eat dinner. (Saw it myself. I went along with my friend to see him in
action.) The writers cracked jokes, never eliciting more than a grunt from Ainge, who didn't appear
too bright. My friend patiently waited until there was just one writer still in the room, and then
asked if he could talk with Ainge. Right away, he bored in with probing questions – what was it
like for a guy who had spent so many years winning with the Celtics to take over such a sucky club?
What did Ainge think of the young thugs who were hurting the sport's image? And a dozen other
substantial queries. And something amazing happened – confronted with intelligent, complex
questions, Ainge responded with very smart and thoughtful replies. Turned out the guy was actually
very bright, and had thought deeply on these subjects. I remember watching the light go on in the
head of the lone remaining American sportswriter in the room – he was stunned by what he was
witnessing. So much so that in his column the next day, he wrote about my friend and how Ainge had
given such a probing interview to a European journalist. Just as we were leaving, this American
sportswriter shook his head and asked Ainge, "Hey, how come you don't tell us those kinds of
things?" Ainge smiled and said, "You never asked."
Tony Ortega Phoenix, Arizona
brain-fart "item" columns (stringing together short observations separated by ellipses "...."
because their tiny brains can't conceive one column-length idea) both decide on the same day that
cycling isn't a sport. They're trolling, of course, and they'll no doubt get lots of angry email
from us cycling types. In the end, these morons aren't worth the spilled ink.
On the other hand, recent posts about how lame sportswriters are inspired me to share an anecdote
that provides some supporting evidence.
One of my best friends is a Belgian sports journalist who covers cycling. He was also, at one time,
one of only a handful of European writers who were credentialed to cover the NBA full time. Several
years ago, my friend flew in to visit me in Phoenix and cover a game, and he complained again and
again about what idiots American sportswriters are. He resented that he'd have to fight to get
one-on-one interviews with athletes and coaches. When I asked him why, he said that the practice
here is for a lot of American reporters to sit around in a group and lob extremely stupid
questions, hoping that something other than a barely coherent cliché came out of the subject. The
writers had got in the habit of asking questions they already knew the answer to, questions whose
answers were implied in the way they were asked. "Isn't it true that..." these questions always
began, my friend complained. (For a pertinent example, just watch how Frankie Andreu questions
Lance Armstrong after each stage. A non-journalist whose only training is from the kinds of
interviews he's been through himself, Andreu asks incredibly obvious non-questions that can only
elicit the most pat, boring responses. Don't get me wrong – I love Frankie, and always dug his Tour
diaries when he was riding. But he's no interviewer. Luckily for him, Armstrong usually comes up
with a decent soundbite nonetheless.) Anyway, my friend wanted one interview in particular, with
then-Phoenix Suns coach Danny Ainge. At the time, Ainge was new to coaching, and he'd turned around
a lousy team in a short period of time. Problem was, there were about ten writers loafing around in
Ainge's office, watching him eat dinner. (Saw it myself. I went along with my friend to see him in
action.) The writers cracked jokes, never eliciting more than a grunt from Ainge, who didn't appear
too bright. My friend patiently waited until there was just one writer still in the room, and then
asked if he could talk with Ainge. Right away, he bored in with probing questions – what was it
like for a guy who had spent so many years winning with the Celtics to take over such a sucky club?
What did Ainge think of the young thugs who were hurting the sport's image? And a dozen other
substantial queries. And something amazing happened – confronted with intelligent, complex
questions, Ainge responded with very smart and thoughtful replies. Turned out the guy was actually
very bright, and had thought deeply on these subjects. I remember watching the light go on in the
head of the lone remaining American sportswriter in the room – he was stunned by what he was
witnessing. So much so that in his column the next day, he wrote about my friend and how Ainge had
given such a probing interview to a European journalist. Just as we were leaving, this American
sportswriter shook his head and asked Ainge, "Hey, how come you don't tell us those kinds of
things?" Ainge smiled and said, "You never asked."
Tony Ortega Phoenix, Arizona
