I’ve known Jennifer Floyd Engel for a lot of years. Knew her when she was the Dallas Stars hockey writer, Jennifer Floyd. She has always been honest, considerate and fair, although her official nickname — a nickname she endorses — is “The Little Ball of Hate.”
This week, in the Fort Worth Star-Telegram, she did something that I have seldom read from a sports journalist on either side of the border (other than from me and Jason Whitlock, of course). It’s the sudden, public “revelation” that sports writers are thin-skinned, hypocritical, often wrong and annoyingly defensive. The only people in all of sports more irritating than sports writers are game officials (especially the three blind mice calling the Ohio State-Purdue game yesterday).
I would appreciate it if all of you went to http://www.star-telegram.com/jenengel to read the column. But if you don’t feel like making a couple of clicks on your PC, here it is in its entirety, courtesy of Howard Bloom’s Sports Business News. It’s the best sports column of this or, maybe, any other year:
By Jennifer Floyd Engel
Fort Worth Star-Telegram
The words “girl fight” have a way of stopping down a room, everybody angling for a good view of the emotionally fraught, highly charged chaos likely to ensue. This article was written by Jennifer Floyd Engel and appeared in the Fort Worth Star-Telegram.
It is emotional porn.
This dirty fascination is how I feel about media fights, and we have a doozy brewing at the moment between dot.com big-timers Jason Whitlock and Peter King.
Whitlock basically accused King in a Fox Sports column of being the ringleader of a bunch of good ol’ boys screwing up the Pro Football Hall of Fame voting process with politics and secrecy. King and a few of his cohorts fired back by calling Whitlock an idiot, a blob and just plain misinformed.
And about his criticism over the lack of transparency?
Well, King explained, there are reasons they keep their votes and their reasoning to themselves.
I am going to go ahead and break this story. There are no bigger hypocrites in sports than the journalists who cover them. Nor am I absolving myself. We all do it.
Sports journalists cry Rooney Rule while sitting in press boxes jammed with people who look and think and write like us. We tell the Michael Youngs of the world to make way for younger talent while clinging to seniority as a basic tenet of life. Or in the case of this Hall of Fame voting imbroglio, we demand transparency from coaches and athletes while buffering ourselves from criticism by refusing to divulge two of the five Ws. Who did we vote for and against? And why?
And this makes us hypocrites.
Full disclosure: I am not one of the Pro Football Hall of Fame voters nor do I have a chance of ever being one. In fact, the last time I voted for anything of any sporting consequence at all was for the three stars at a Stars game, and I like it that way.
I would argue that journalists should not be in the business of determining who the MVP is, who is an All-Star and who ends up in the Hall of Fame. The only problem is I do not know who should.
Players and GMs have their own biases and blind spots. The absence of Jimmy Johnson locally in the Ring of Honor highlights the dangers of a committee of one. All-Star voting pretty much kills any arguments about fan involvement. The hope with reporters is that they are at least doing their due diligence and talking to those who played and who study the game to make informed decisions. You do not have to play the game, as Whitlock suggested, to determine who is deserving. But it helps alleviate criticisms of bias or incompetence when voters are forced to show their work.
The plight of Willie Roaf is not all that juicy in my world and I don’t agree with everything Whitlock wrote, but he is right about the transparency. We should know who every single one of the voters in the room decided were worthy of inclusion into the Hall of Fame and why. If people want an explanation of, say, why it took so many so embarrassingly long to recognize Bullet Bob Hayes, the voters should be required to give one. Anything less from a group whose very existence is buoyed by mandatory player availability and answers to hard questions is beyond hypocritical.
Nor do I buy King’s argument that it is unfair for a Hall selector to have his vote and reasoning out there because it would be uncomfortable when he has to go cover the team. Why, yes, it could be. And it often is.
It is hard to walk into a locker room after writing a player stunk or a coach needs to be fired or a GM screwed up, but that is why it is so important. I can only speak for myself, but it makes me really believe what I am writing and choose my words carefully because I know I am going to have to defend it.
Part of my job is showing up just in case a player wants to tell me to “bleep off.” And anybody unwilling to stand by and defend his position probably should not be voting for such a prestigious honor anyway.
The thing with media is we are a sensitive lot. We blow and go, torch and question, call for jobs and talk in moral absolutes then get touchy when somebody has the audacity to question us. I find myself doing it sometimes, bristling against and getting defensive about an angry e-mail about a column. And I abhor this quality in myself, and constantly have to remind myself that, if I cannot handle criticism, I — and other journalists — probably should not be critical.
It is hypocritical.
And, as we see in this latest media fight, there are no bigger hypocrites in sports than the journalists who cover them.