Texas Monthly on the death of sportswriting

I haven't read Cartwright's story yet, but will after I write this. But based on the comments in here, some quick thoughts before I get 'influenced' by the actual story.

Cartwright is glorifying these past writers through rose-coloerd glasses----the more time goes by, the better they get, and these guys believe the press clippings about themselves. Trust me, I've rubbed elbows with a number of them plenty of times. Every region of this country has its deified writers and columnists.

I will say this---writers like Jenkins and Murray, and you could even go back to Red Smith and Grantland Rice I suppose, were, simply, writers. Crafting words and poetic prose, knowing that 75% of their readership didn't see the event---this was pre-ESPN days, remember. They had total literary license and all the space they wanted to flex their muscles and get real cutesy with the language.

Today's writers, and that includes columnists, are held to a standard of pure reporting, breaking news, etc. higher than these older guys had to deal with. It's an entirely different ballgame.

 

Ditto.

 

Pall:

Posnanski, in my opinion, is just as great on a day-to-day basis as Murray or Jenkins or Jimmy Cannon or Shirley Povich or any of those guys. I never get tired of reading Joe Poz, regardless of the subject.

I think Wilbon is way up there, as is Bob Ryan. Two of my all-time favorites.

Long form, I think S.L. Price is as good as anybody in the past. Gary Smith's reputation is well known, and well deserved, even though his style really can't be replicated (kind of like Jim Murray in that way.)

There's a ton of great writing out there. What I think Jack missed the point on in his last post is that the bad stuff 40 years ago was REALLY bad. But nobody remembers that stuff, because it's not worth remembering. We only remember the great ones and it makes it seem like those days were better than today. It's just not the case. That said, the world is more fragmented today so none of the writers I just mentioned will ever have the impact that a Jim Murray or Mike Royko had. It's just not possible. But that doesn't make them any less great.

 

Well that's certainly the case. Sportswriters are way down in the influential pecking order these days. Of course, many of the people ahead of them are completely worthless (and professionals at it, even), but that's the culture.

I don't read Posnanski that much, but I read his Greinke piece and Smith's Slater piece, and I preferred Posnanski's much better. And not because Smith's was about surfing (I loved his story years back on the race walker). Just didn't live up to the hype.

 

Would Wilbon even been allowed in the press box during Cartwright's supposed golden era?
Would a woman named Shirley been up there as well?
The answer is, umm, no.
That doesn't take away from what some of those guys did back in the day, but even Cartwright said some of those guys, like Jenkins, didn't hit their stride until they went to SI.
Really?
So from an analysis standpoint it fails
Cartwright doesn't say how the newspaper guys he rips now compare to the Jenkins who then worked in Dallas and not SI?
Fail.
Trying to compare a daily deadline writer with a long-form magazine writer working on a different deadline is simply unfair.
Fail.
Fail. Fail. Fail.
Really, really disappointing.

 

Shirley Povich was a dude.

I know, "don't call me Shirley."

 

A woman named Shirley? Ya.

I've never been a Wilbon fan. Decent writer, but no separating speed, as it were, IMO.

 

Apologies if I was unclear, but I know that Shirley Povich was a dude. The point was that while the male named Shirley was up working in the press box, could a woman named Shirley have been able to do the same thing?
And my answer was no.

 

Shirley? You jest.

 

Kind of a random sampling, but here's an old feature he posted on his blog today:

http://joeposnanski.com/JoeBlog/2009/05/12/the-curious-case-of-matt-harrington/

He doesn't overthink it; he doesn't get in the way. He just tells a fantastic story and makes you think.

 

Here's Larry L. King with a Blackie Sherrod profile, done in 1975 when both men were at the top of their games. This is thoughtful, fair, honest, unblinking, and if not as much fun as The Best Little Whorehouse, it's more fun than anything I've read in today's 20-second attention-span world.

http://www.texasmonthly.com/1975-12-01/feature6.php