What would you not miss?

Idiot readers, without a doubt.

Like the woman who called here the Thursday of the NCAA tournament claiming that we never ran a bracket. Um, it was in Monday's paper, and then published again on Tuesday.

Or the woman who called today and claimed the AP story we ran on the Kansas-Davidson game was full of errors, and that the writer called Kansas the "Wildcats" all the way through. Um, that's Davidson's nickname.

Oh, and I wouldn't miss the spring prep season at all. Seven to eight weeks of shitty, unpredictable weather (usually), things getting called off and rescheduled, then everyone complaining because you didn't cover this sport or that sport enough. I hate it.

 

Nothing on that list. For me, it's probably the craze over going electronic. I feel less like a print journalist every day.

 

I get as much pleasure out of watching somebody do something that most human beings can't even imagine being capable of as I do out of doing something great myself. The only difference is in my ego -- I get more of a boost if I do something that impresses myself.

But I like being around people who do great things. I don't mind if it's not me doing them, although I certainly enjoy being that person, too (and need to be, every once in a while, just to keep my ego inflated.)

 

Isn't that the thing, though, Buck? What we cover isn't really people doing great things. We should go cover guys trying to find a cure for cancer, then, or folks ladling up soup at the shelter. Or someone working hard to salvage the newspaper industry even. We don't cover the unpopular kid who happens to write some cool software in his computer club, either. Don't mean to throw out cliches here about who the real humanitarians in our culture are, but let's face it, all we cover is athletes and coaches who already get plenty of positive reinforcement. B.F.D.

 

Good point. Besides, when it comes to watching people do amazing athletic feats, I would rather watch it from the perspective of a fan, not as work. I want to be able to express excitement over the outcome of a game or a play, not sit there mostly stone-faced so as to avoid the appearance of bias. And I want to be able to watch it without having to think about how I'm going to write this up. I've said this before: working in sports journalism robs you of a lot of your passion for sports.

 

That's why I finally decided against chasing a dream job as a movie critic. Would ruin going to movies for me, forever.

Of course, Hollywood has more or less done that anyway. And newspapers have more or less killed off the dream job of film critic too. But you get my point...

 

The following:

* Showing up for a game I'm covering, running late and starving to death, only to find that Lucious T. Fudpucker from the 500 circ weekly that's not even in the circulation area of said game has scored a credential and has eaten everything in site.

* People from other departments who walk into the sports department just to stare at whatever game is on the TV.

* Veteran writers who have realized they can't get fired and are perpetually in "just get by" mode while young, hungry, aspiring reporters are left to navigate a bloody job market.

* Young writers who have talent and early success and thusly act as if there's nothing they can learn from veteran writers.

* Office temper tantrums of any kind.

* Sports people who are unaware of any universe outside of sports.

* Readers who call the sports department just to "chat."

* Being on the road at 2 a.m. and having to rely on Combos and frappuchino for sustinance.

* "Hey, you busy tonight? Me and my girlfriends have decided to experiment with lesbianism and we need someone to hold the camera. Oh, you've got a game? Sorry."

 

Yup. And they don't even acknowledge you half the time.

 

Amen to both.

 

I didn't say great "important" things. I realize the place of sports in our society -- it's entertainment; it's a diversion; it's games, not life and death.

But hey, I enjoy it. And I think there's a place for it, and a place for writing about it. And if you don't think that some of the things that "great" athletes do test the limits of human physical ability, then you're more cynical than I.

As for the sentiment that sports journalism robs you of your passion for sports ... well, speak for yourself. Sorry. I've certainly changed when it comes to how I view sports -- I feel uncomfortable cheering publicly, even in the stands; and I watch my teams with a greater sense of detachment than I did before I became a journalist -- but I still love the games and I still love what I do. That's about me, not about the job.

 

I find pockets of time in which I recapture my pure glee of watching sports. Most usually at Division II college baseball games in April. But I also go through long stretches when no sports capture me like they did when I was a teen-ager.

 

I find that, too. But how much of that is simply getting older?