Where have they all gone? Those master craftsmen from
the past By Malamute, Posted 6 May 2004;
updated 23 Sept 2004
We all know that a
columnist expresses an opinion and that a beat writer reports the facts. For
example, a columnist might opine that the UW lacks institutional control and deserves to be indicted as
a repeat
violator of NCAA bylaws, while a reporter and beat writer report the facts
relating to the NCAA investigation, never voicing an opinion. Okay, never say
never; beat writers have a right to express an opinion or two once in awhile.
How about the local sportswriters? Who are the columnists
and who are the beat writers? Over at the Seattle Post-Intelligencer, Art Thiel,
John Levesque, and Jim Moore function as columnists. Dan Raley covers the
Huskies’ practices and games, serving as a beat writer who reports first
downs and total yardage mixed with quotes from the players and coaches. Angelo Bruscas is a reporter who generates original ideas for stories and interviews.
At the Seattle Times, Blaine Newnham, Steve Kelley, and Les Carpenter function
as columnists. Bob Condotta is a beat writer who covers the Huskies. Former
Huskies beat writer Bud Withers is now a reporter.
According to the Oregon Daily Herald (the campus newspaper
at the University of Oregon), “The goal of a columnist should be to generate
public debate and discussion in an informative manner. Columns should be
truthful and written in an authoritative manner.”
The trick for a columnist is to appear authoritative, you
know, smarter than you or I am. The playbook for showing smarts partially
lies within the X’s and O’s of creating metaphors and similes. Another essential
is stating the facts correctly and buttressing them with credible, multiple
sources.
Writing about the possibility of nailing the UW as an
institution out of control, Steve Kelley combines a metaphor and a simile in one
paragraph. “You want to be the leader of a program that now is waiting for the
other closet of shoes to fall? Like some hazmat technician, you want to be the
person to clean up this mess?”
Writing about the evils of big-time college sports, Art
Thiel writes metaphorically, “We have no more reason to be shocked at these
things (scandals) than when our eyebrows disappear after adding kerosene to the campfire.”
Acerbic columnists like Kelley and Thiel must be deluged
with volumes of e-mail -- most of it hateful -- enough of it to make a professional
spammer choke.
At the Times, using softer metaphors, the mild-mannered
Newnham plays good-cop-bad-cop with Kelley and is much less cutting -- say, like
John Kerry's barber.
Thiel's fiery symbolism, a form of hyperbole, is as
dangerous to one's gray-matter as the spyware lurking in your computer, spyware
that serves up unsolicited adware. Ever try nuking coolWWW?
In my opinion, none of the columnists can hold a candle to
those revered craftsmen of the past, wordsmiths such as Emmett Watson and Jim
Murray (photo above). They wrote with humor and dignity and functioned mostly as entertainers
who fascinated their readers with their crafty prose and wit. The
nationally-syndicated Murray towered above the rest, a Grantland Rice of his day. When he won
the Pulitzer Prize in 1990, he was quoted as saying, "I never thought you could
win a Pulitzer Prize just for quoting Tommy Lasorda correctly."
Nowadays, genuine humor has been replaced with cutting
sarcasm and pessimism, both directed towards those ideals and values we hold
sacred in college sports. Big-time college sports is under attack by a number of
columnists, most of whom have a political agenda. They opine that the intense goal of
winning, along with the pretense of amateurism, has corrupted college sports beyond simple repair.
During his interview with former Washington coach Don
James, freelance writer Derek Johnson (dawgman.com) asked coach James whom he
blamed for the "Fruit Basket Scandal" that rocked his
regime at the UW.
“Well for starters, I think it’s the Seattle Times,” said James. “I live in this
community and I watch them beat up everybody, not just the football program.
I’ve watched them beat up on Boeing and Nordstrom and all the great industries
and businesses in this community. They all get beat up by the local press. Maybe
that happens everywhere. But I have lived in a lot of places and I haven’t seen
it elsewhere.
"But overall I was so disgusted with what had taken place.
I really didn't know whom to blame. I still don't. I blame myself I guess. I
don't know..."
Other reporters and columnists, like most of
us fans, are genuine sports enthusiasts, who would like to see a perfect playing
field for college sports. Of course, that’s not possible, considering the number of teams,
athletes, coaches, fans and boosters participating in and following NCAA
Division I sports. The fact is it’s just not a perfect world out there.
Hey, that’s pretty serious
stuff. Lighten up, Malamute, and join the party.
With that in mind, we pay poetic tribute to those
columnists, reporters and beat writers who cover Husky football in the Seattle
area.
The master craftsmen from the past
Where have they all gone?
Their work now undone.
We should have known they’d never last.
Those master craftsmen from the past.
Blaine is as cutting as Kerry’s stylist.
Art raves like a jaded nihilist.
John aches for a wireless eavesdrop.
Bob sops pancake blocks at Ihop.
Miller dances to the Huskies’ beat.
Angelo examines those that cheat.
None of them knew Harvey Cassill.
They just wallow in his Castle.
Moore simmers like L.A.’s Tee Jay.
He pollutes the Montlake freeway.
He parties like a blithering schmoozer.
He is nothing but a Coug Paloser.
At the Times, scribes Ms. Brodeur
She's
somewhat of a harmless boor.
At her side, Les raves and rants
With the brain the size of a Carpenter ant's.
Kelley’s prose lacks Institute-control.
Withers is out on dogged patrol.
None can needle like Emmett Watson.
They are as crafty as a beat up Datsun.
None can write an incisive tome.
None can write like Royal Brougham.
They would not know a Smith Corona
From Don Ernesto's in old Pamplona.
Still a master of mirth and laughter,
Now dwelling in the hereafter.
His vision restored and never blurry,
Is the one and only, Jim Murray.
Throw away those wireless connections.
Those Ipods, earphones and cool inventions.
Crank up a venerable Royal
And, as a long-lost scribe, prepare to toil.
Where have they all gone?
Their work now undone.
We should have known they’d never last.
Those master craftsmen from the past.
Richard Linde (a.k.a., Malamute) can be reached at
malamute@4malamute.com |