ESPN ombudsman on Dr. V story: Lacked understanding, empathy and introspection

As expected, Robert Lipsyte weighed in quickly on the controversial Dr. V story in Grantland. Also as expected, he wasn’t a fan of the piece. And that was before the firestorm hit.

A young golfer’s obsession with an oddly shaped putter invented by a mysterious scientist and endorsed on YouTube? I will give that kind of story no more than a few paragraphs to grab my interest before I bail out, even if it is featured on a site known for compelling storytelling.

Just a few moments into reading that very story recently on Grantland, it was shaping up as another one of those bloated selfies that clog the arteries of sports-lit these days.

Four graphs and I was gone.

As for the flaws in the story:

Much of the criticism was generically true, although I don’t think this piece was a conscious persecution of a transgender person as much as it was an example of unawareness and arrogance. It was a rare breakdown in one of ESPN’s best and brightest places, and an understandable but inexcusable instance of how the conditioned drive to get to the core of a story can block the better angels of a journalist’s nature and possibly lead to tragic consequences.

The story lacked understanding, empathy and introspection — no small ingredients. More reporting would have helped. It was a story worth telling, if told right. And aside from its humane shortcomings, I still don’t like it as a piece of writing.

And more:

Hannan never meets Vanderbilt in person, but in his due diligence he discovers that she has probably lied about her scientific and government credentials — at least he is unable to verify her degrees and work record. He finds out toward the end of his reporting that Vanderbilt is transgender, with two ex-wives and three children. Almost accidentally, he later learns that she has committed suicide. His reaction seems careless, even callous.

Because he knows little about the besieged transgender community, he conflates all her personal lies and apparently comes to believe — if he really thought about it — that as a presumed con artist she was fair game and had no right to privacy.

The story itself is structurally clumsy and flabbily edited. Yet Grantland’s gatekeepers – including Bill Simmons, the site’s founder and editor-in-chief, and more than a dozen editors in all — waved the story on through seven months of meetings and drafts and tweaks. They may have been blinded by the idea that had captivated them in the first place, the self-absorbed young man looking for his quick fix, a metaphor for the times and perhaps Grantland’s demographic. But that was not the story any more. The twists and turns were the story, the possible lack of resolution and some serious reflections on responsibility and death.

There’s more, as Lipsyte spreads around the blame to all.

One last point: Obviously, we had to hear from Lipsyte, but this seems like the 90th in-house ESPN piece bashing the story. Name me another media outlet that opens itself up to such introspection from within. You can’t.

Will Lipsyte’s post be the final word on the Dr. V story. Or do Dickie V or Mike Ditka have anything to add?

 

Q/A with Scott Van Pelt: Looking back at decision to stay at ESPN; Radio show remains key component

Back in 2012, ESPN had several prominent free agents: Jim Rome, Michelle Beadle, Erin Andrews, and Scott Van Pelt.

Only Van Pelt stayed. As for the rest…

Rome does have a program on Showtime and has made appearances on CBS’ big national telecasts. However, truth be told, Rome’s daily TV show still barely registers on CBS Sports Network.

Andrews went to Fox. While she still gets the high-profile sideline assignments, including the Super Bowl, her duties as host on Fox’s college football pregame shows are a work in progress at best.

Then there’s Beadle. Well, let’s just say things didn’t quite work out as planned with NBC.

With SI’s Richard Deitsch reporting that Beadle is set to return to ESPN, it seemed to be a good time to break out the Q/A I did with Van Pelt during a recent trip to Bristol. The One Who Stayed is very happy with his decision.

You had a decision to make. you were on the market and you stayed.

Van Pelt: Uh‑huh, I did.

A few of your former colleagues left, and they have had mixed results.

Van Pelt: I wish everyone all the best.

I know you do.  When we were here last time (April, 2012), you were up in the air. Now it’s been more than a year. How do you feel about the way things have worked out?

 Van Pelt: It was great to be able to take inventory of my life professionally and ask myself, what do I do, what do I want to do, and it was flattering that other people were interested in offering up something different to do.  You know, the best thing that happened was that they were willing to help me create a little bit more of a life.  Picking it up there, just the idea ‑‑ the best thing that happened was I was able to talk with a group of people here and say, you know, I’d love to do some college football.  I’m not trying to take Chris Fowler’s chair because he’s awesome.  I’m not trying to take Rece Davis’ chair, also awesome.  But if there’s a spot at the table that I could just pull up a chair and do something that’s of any value, then great.  So we carved out a thing with Gameday, and it’s great.

You do a daily radio show, SportsCenter, and Gameday during the fall. And there’s the golf majors during the spring and summer. That’s a pretty full schedule.

Van Pelt:   Any one of those would be a job.  Here’s the best thing, the most important thing for me to make clear here.  Every entity here has done a great job of making it like a symbiotic thing.  Everyone is on the same page.  Everyone works to say, okay, well, what day can we lose him on radio, Tuesday or Wednesday, cool.  The Gameday guys say, look, we need you to be there on‑site, or hey, we can do the piece but get out of there, go home, so we don’t need you to be here.  You know what I mean?  Everyone is reasonable.  It’s an unreasonable thing to take on, but I asked to do it.  You know what I’m saying?

You asked to do all this?

Van Pelt: I did.  Look, I love the radio piece.  SportsCenter,  and Gameday I think is the best show that ESPN does.

Talk about the radio show.          

Van Pelt: Of course, and the thing that was most important to me staying here. Let me put it this way:  To continue to try to grow the show with (Ryen Russillo) was as important as any single thing.  You know?  All the things that you get to do at ESPN, the totality of that, nothing else could match, and where other places just said, oh, you can do a radio show, that’s fine.  But I couldn’t do a radio show with Ryan anywhere else.

I guess the best way to put it is the thing I was least willing to sacrifice here, moving forward, because of its importance to me was radio. (The show) is in its infancy.  Mike & Mike is 14 years.  They’ve been doing it for a long time.  Colin (Cowherd) is twice as long as we have.  It takes a long time to build that.

What do you like about the radio show?

Van Pelt: It’s just hard as hell to do well.  It’s really difficult to do well.  And as a TV guy, you walk into it with an arrogance that ‑‑ well, I’m on TV, I’ll be fine on radio.  And four minutes into your first eight‑minute segment, you realize that you’ve got three hours left to fill.  I’ve often said, and I’m kidding, like I could do SportsCenter mildly buzzed and I could navigate the terrain because I know the mechanics, and there’s only so much heavy lifting I have to do.

And you’ve done it buzzed a few times.

Van Pelt:  I’ve done it blind drunk several years, several years, just really, really hammered on a nightly basis. (Editor’s note: Just kidding, folks)

Radio, every segment of every hour is a challenge to fill in an interesting way.  What I like the most about it is how challenging it is to do it well.  I have such respect for the people that are great at it, and I’m talking across the board, guys who I would never do shows like, but their ability to ‑‑ and I’m talking in different genres.  The genius of a Limbaugh or a Stern or even here you could say a Cowherd who some people say is polarizing, the genius of people like that is they get people that like them that look to them to nod their head and they get people who are angry at them to listen to be mad.  That’s a genius ‑‑ I couldn’t do it.  I couldn’t just knowingly wink and poke the bear.  I couldn’t do that.  But I respect the ability for people that understand the medium to do it.

When you have to go on SportsCenter at night and you still wear that hat, you can’t just go and be an insane radio person.  You just can’t.  Because there’s a line you straddle, and I find myself on SportsCenter having to remind myself, keep your opinion out of this, right, because this isn’t the forum for it, and then on radio I find myself having to remind myself, no, you’re allowed to go ahead and let it rip.  And it’s tough to straddle the lines and be good at it.

But I think the radio helps the TV because I find myself letting it bleed more in, because I think people are willing ‑‑ I think the one thing people I think know about me is that I’m authentically a fan.  I love sports, and allowing that passion to bleed into the presentation, I don’t think people hold that against you.  In fact, I think Boomer has shown us that it’s okay.  It’s okay to be ‑‑ in fact, it’s not just okay, it’s good to be agnostic.  It’s good to be fair.

So you stayed because of the totality of the whole package?

Van Pelt: Correct, yep.

Aside from the money, ESPN was the only place that would allow you to stay at ESPN, if you know what I mean.

Van Pelt:  I got to talk to really talented, smart, good people at other places, and I said that and I mean that you wish all of them success.  I just think that the challenge for them is herculean. Look I worked for the Golf Channel, right, and I used to joke that when I’d show up to cover a major championship before the Golf Channel had any rights that it was trying to fight a tank with a Popsicle stick.  I’d walk around carrying our own sticks for our shooter, we didn’t have a golf cart, but I knew those golfers, I had relationships with those guys, so I went in there and I fought, and we lost, but I managed some punches for a guy holding a tripod; you know what I mean?  I’ve been on the other side of it, and it’s a hard fight to win.

You have the arsenal of properties that you get a chance to be a part of here, it’s a very difficult hill to climb.  And I mean, you know, you take inventory, and I was proud of whatever little niches that I had carved out.  They were all important to me.

I’m sure wherever you landed, you would be the face of the network, Wouldn’t that have been enticing?

Van Pelt:  I’m not ego‑driven.  Hey, we’re going to put you on billboards and you’re going to have a show.  Awesome.  Then you know what you have to go do?  A show.  And you have to fill that hour and you have to ‑‑ and it needs to be ‑‑ I wasn’t afraid of failing as much as I was confident in succeeding here.  Does that make any sense?  Again, the idea of an ad campaign and billboards, like that’s the icing, man.

The cake is the doing the work every day, and the challenge of that at this point in time, I didn’t think that that was as enticing to me as being able to continue to do things I truly enjoyed doing with people that I enjoy at a place that I valued them and in the end they valued me.  Maybe they valued me more than they were going to have to, what are you are you going to do?  As I told them, I didn’t tell you that my house cost this much, somebody just knocked on the door and said this is what we’ll give you for your house.  Well, then that’s what my house costs.  I didn’t tell you that, they did.

As a highly visible Maryland alum, how do you feel about being part of the Big Ten?

Van Pelt: I think Maryland should be flattered because they were coveted by (the Big Ten). Maryland should be happy that it’s a windfall financially.  But you give up ‑‑ you sacrifice a lot of traditions.

The other thing I did say is that I wasn’t going to have a funeral for something that I thought died in 2004, which is the old ACC.  What I grew up with no longer existed anyway, and the ACC told Maryland that its rivals were going to be Pittsburgh and Virginia, and Maryland and Pittsburgh have no rivalry at all.

I can’t weep for that, but I’ll obviously be nostalgic for what I remember.  I remember it.  But then I go to Cole Fieldhouse and it’s closed.  I grew up going to RFK and it’s not a stadium.  I grew up going to Memorial Stadium in Baltimore, and it doesn’t exist.  If you think about what you grew up with, you can’t even go to the places you grew up to see the teams that you used to watch.  What is the one thing they say about life?  The only thing for sure is it goes on.

Speaking of life, you have a baby now at home. How does that change your perception of things?

Van Pelt:  You’re incredibly selfish in this business, I think.  You work holidays, you work weekends, you sacrifice in many, many ways to do what you do.  And the benefit of being an older dad is that a lot of that work is behind me.  I still will work hard, and I’m still thankful that I get to do this, but my guess is, my hope is that I’ll be able to be present for stuff later in life.  If I’d have done all this when I was 30, who knows what I would have missed?

It’s every cliché there is.  I went in last night after doing SportsCenter, and my daughter was asleep, and ‑‑

This is like 2:00 in the morning?

Van Pelt:  Yeah, it was about 2:30.  She’s asleep, and I just reached in the crib and I held her hand, and I sat there and I stared at her, and I walked in and I laughed when I laid down because it’s like ‑‑ like I said, it’s every cliché there is.

But my favorite part of yesterday was that, you know.  Was that two minutes of silence watching her lie there.  It sounds like a sappy Hallmark commercial, but that was what I did.

 

 

 

 

 

It wasn’t just Grantland: Why did so many top journalists initially not see problems with Dr. V story?

My latest column for the National Sports Journalism Center at Indiana University is on the fallout from the Dr. V putter story in Grantland.

Here’s an excerpt.

********

I’m fortunate, I guess.

For various reasons, I didn’t get around to reading Caleb Hannan’s story in Grantland on “Dr. V,” the mysterious inventor of a radically different putter in golf, until Sunday night. When I finally did read the entire 7,700-word piece, it was through the prism of criticism that had erupted since late Friday. My experience was markedly different than others.

If I hadn’t gotten sidetracked from reading the story on Wednesday, shortly after it was released, I likely would have been among the people spreading the word about this “gem” at Grantland. So I was spared from having to go back and retract my endorsement once tougher scrutiny cast the piece in a different light.

Others weren’t as lucky.

What stands out for me is the number of journalists, superb journalists, who initially had no problem with Hannan’s reporting and writing of this piece. In his apology on Grantland, editor Bill Simmons wrote, “The piece had been up for 56 hours before the backlash began.”

Think about that. 56 hours. The story was out there for two-plus days before it went from gold to meriting a mea culpa by the editor.

I initially heard about the story while listening to sports talk radio in the car. Dan Bernstein of WSCR-AM 670 in Chicago, hardly a golf guy, talked up the story on his show, directing listeners to his Twitter feed to find the link. Even though Bernstein and I once had differences, I consider him one of the smartest people in sports talk radio. If he is recommending a story of this nature, I want to read it. I’m not singling out Bernstein. Rather, this is an example of the initial reach of this story.

Indeed, when I got home, I saw similar words of high praise throughout Twitter from many people I respect in the business. The names have been well documented.

My point is that Grantland and its editors weren’t alone in failing to detect the ethical questions in the story. Many others were just as culpable with their endorsements.

How is this possible? Bruce Arthur, a columnist for the National Post in Canada, had this explanation. After initially lauding the story to his 144,000 followers on Twitter, he pulled back. In a tweet, he talked about being “mesmerized by the storytelling,” adding, “but I didn’t think it through.” In another tweet, he said: “The story was fascinating, even irresistible at first, and well-pursued. But.”

Richard Deitsch of SI.com had a similar view in his Monday column: “I think I was so enthralled by the reporting and whodunit aspect of the tale – and the skill of a talented journalist – that I failed to recognize some vital issues about the piece.”

Indeed, as journalists, we all had admiration for the highly unusual nature of the story and the reporting by Hannan to uncover the false credentials of the inventor. And then in the end, we learn this woman scientist had once been a man. As Arthur said, it was mesmerizing if you looked at it from merely that perspective.

*******

Here’s the link to the rest of the column.

 

My Q/A with Skip Bayless: Contends he’s never lost a debate; his relationship with Stephen A.; living in a hotel in Bristol

OK, Richard Deitsch. I can hear you. Enough with the Skip Bayless, right?

Earlier today, I posted my Chicago Tribune column on Bayless. As you would expect, I had much more that I could squeeze into 750 words for the newspaper.

Thanks to the infinite Internet, I thought I would share more from my interview with Bayless, which took place at the hotel where he lives year-round in Bristol. It provides more of an idea of what makes him tick.

How did you enjoy your Chicago years?  What struck you about being a columnist in Chicago?

Some of the best years of my career.

Why?

Because it’s the most passionate sports city in America.  The interest stays high 365 days a year for every sport, including the Blackhawks, even when they’re down.  And I loved living downtown.  It was a great experience because it’s such a great place, and what I liked the least about Chicago was the traffic, because I think it might be the worst traffic city in America.

It got worse.

Did it?

You caught the tail end of Jordan, right?

I got ’98.  I got the last year.  Which to me was the best ‑‑ it was the most writable year because of the in‑fighting between Krause and Michael and Phil.  Every day the story just got better and better, and remember, I got Sammy at his height.  And I got Cubs with Kerry Wood rising into the playoffs.  They flamed out quickly against the Braves that year, but it was still a great year.  And then I got the end of (Dave) Wannstedt, who I’d known very well from Dallas, so it was still interesting to me to be that connected to him and the Bears and to watch his struggle and ultimate collapse.  It was a good time to be there.

And then you made a decision to leave.

I made a decision.

And the decision was based on philosophical differences?

Extreme philosophical differences because (of the length of his column).   Over breakfast one morning (editor Anne Marie Lipinski) glanced at her sections spread out before her in the Tribune and realized that the only section without an anchored column on the front was the sports. We believed it gave us the best flexibility. If I had the goods on a story and I had done the reporting on a story that I could go a little longer than 650 words.  I could maybe even write 1,000 words, and it gave (sports editor John Cherwa) the flexibility with the art on the front to be very creative and to, as he often did, win awards with his section front.

She wanted all the section fronts to look alike. So I immediately went in and said, ‘this won’t work for us.’ I liked her a lot, went to lunch with her several times and personally got along with her great. She said, “you will learn to like this.”  That was the quote.  I said, “I will try,”

And I got more miserable by the day because I can’t write 650‑word columns.  It doesn’t fit me.  I wasn’t good at it.  My columns suffered over it.  And I suffered emotionally over it.  It was so frustrating that I knew at the three‑month mark I just wasn’t going to make it, but for the sake of John and because I loved my job so much, I stuck it out for three more months. I got to the six‑month mark, and I told John, “I just can’t do this anymore,”  He knew how miserable I had become.

I told (Lipinski), ‘I tried it, can’t live with it.’ She smiled and said, “Great.  Where are you going?”  I said, “I don’t have a plan yet.”  She said, ‘OK, it was great having you here.’  And that was the end of that.

What does that say about you? You had a great job in a great city, and yet you walked away?

In the big picture, it says that I chose not to have children.  Seriously.  And I knew going in that my career was first.  Every woman I have been with has known my career was first.  My current knows that my career came first, and she was the first one who’s been good with that, which is why we’re so good together.

But my career is my life and my passion.  It’s not a job, it’s just my life.  So I was able to do that when the job no longer fit what I do best.  Then I was able to say, I need to find another one, and I did.

No compromise?

That is correct.  I didn’t want to compromise my work ethic, because John was good for me and to me in that he would encourage me to be a reporter, to not just be an opinionist, and so occasionally I would really dig into something if we had the time, because I always had the inclination, even though I’m writing four times a week, occasionally if you do the reporting as you well know and you have the goods where you can write both a take with some heavy support and maybe you could do an opinion that actually breaks some news, which every once in a while I was able to do, I needed more than 650 words.

How does that work ethic even factor into what you’re doing now?

My work ethic has now found its ultimate challenge because I have never, and I do not exaggerate this, as hard as I have always worked and been known as a hard worker, never have I worked harder than I do now.  This is a relentless insatiable beast. I’ve been only taking two weeks a year off.  I think I might take three this year.

But I love it and I live for it, and I still leap out of bed at 5:30 every morning, but this is a rough one because if you’re doing live, unscripted debate for two full hours five days a week, 50 weeks a year, the preparation for it can be overwhelming, because within the confines of any given debate, it might go places that you’re not expecting or predicting or preparing for, so you have to prepare for every possibility.  If he goes here, I could go there.  Or what if he brings this up?   And you just have to constantly look up, look up, look up, and I feel like I’m back in college cramming for exams.  I cram for an exam every night.

You talk about authentic.  You know the one thing that people don’t necessarily believe is that you’re authentic

They’re all wrong.  They’re all wrong.

They all think that you do this…

Well then they don’t know. I don’t know, I can’t explain.  I’m just telling you the truth.  Whoever says that has no idea what he or she is talking about.

How frustrating is that?

They don’t know me.  It doesn’t frustrate me at all.  I don’t care.  I get asked about it, so it irritates me.

People don’t believe me when I talk about working with you. I know you don’t do anything for show.

It’s 1,000 percent authentic.  It’s as legit as legit can get.  It’s the realest sports TV on TV because it is completely unscripted.  And remember, I’m working with one of the loosest cannons in the history of cannons, and I have no idea where he’s going to go because sometimes he has no idea where he’s going to go.  That’s as real as it gets.

I believe what I believe down to my toes.  Anyone who’s ever worked with me will tell you that’s me.  For better or for worse.  I’m not saying it’s a great thing because I’m stubbornly proud.  But I am proud as proud can be, and I believe everything that I’m going to say on TV with all my heart and soul.  And I have the courage of my convictions.

If you follow our show, I defy you to show me something that I said that you thought was completely outlandish and that I said only for the sake of saying it that did not prove true.  I am often ahead of curves.  And I’m not willing to back off.  I don’t usually get credit for it when it proves true over time, but I’m not stupid, and I’m not doing it for ratings because our audience is sophisticated and smart, and they will see right through that.  They keep coming back because they know I believe what I believe, and yet even though they might occasionally think, that’s crazy, they listen to me explain it and deliver the whys of it, and I think people start to think it makes sense.

But there are people out there who trash you.  It doesn’t bother you?

It doesn’t bother me a bit.  Don’t lose any sleep.

Really?

Nope, doesn’t bother me a bit because I’m so comfortable in my skin because in my heart I know I put in the hours and I am a sports nut.  That’s what people can’t understand.  But I live for this stuff, and I watch games a little differently, maybe, than other people do, because I’m constantly asking myself why did that happen, what’s really going on here.

And I think I bring things every morning to that debate table that people haven’t thought about that prove true.  And I drive my partner crazy with my stubbornness, my stubborn pride, but he respects me just as I respect him.  He has a great mind for sports.  I think I have a good mind for sports, for people.  Maybe my mind is even better for just people, what makes people tick, what are they all about.

What are you and Steven A. like after a show?  Are there times you walk out of there where you guys aren’t talking, or does it ever get that heated?

I love him like a brother, but I do not always like him.  But Ed, again, bottom of heart, I have never taken anything home, any anger home, any sort of brotherly hate or whatever you would call that when you just start to hate each other because you’re brothers over some topic.  From topic to topic, we both get mad.  I’ve gotten mad a number of times.  But we’re so close and we have so much respect that, believe me, we always shake it off in the break.  And you’ll see us come right back the next topic, and it’s just business as usual.

Is he keeping score, too?

Absolutely.  I’ve read quotes from him in the last piece that somebody wrote.  Was it the Washington Post one, I think he said I want to win every debate.  The truth is I do win every debate.

You never lose a debate?

I have never lost a debate.

Come on.

In my mind.

This is where you live during the week?

Yeah.  When we were doing the show in New York, and somebody up here had the bright idea, and I mean that literally, it was a bright idea, why are we doing this?  There was a regime change from the Mark Shapiro years, and so they wanted to keep our show intact but they wanted to save millions of dollars in studio costs in New York.  Why shouldn’t we just bring it up to Bristol?  I can’t blame them.

So they said, hey, why don’t you just stay in a hotel for a couple of weeks until you figure out your living situation, and I did, and here I am ‑‑ it’s been like six years.

And you go down to New York over the weekend?

I do, and sometimes she comes up here occasionally just to kind of break it up a little bit for me.

What do you do about watching all the games during the weekend?

I watch college football from noon to 1:00 a.m. every day.  We’ll go get something to eat for a few minutes, but I watch it, and it’s partly because I love it but partly because I have to watch it. On Sundays, obviously I watch the NFL games.

This job is relentless like that.  And I’ll watch the NBA on Friday night.  Fortunately she likes the NBA.  It’s the one sport she really has come to love, and I like the Spurs, and she’s come to love the Spurs, so she really enjoyed ‑‑ if the Spurs play on a Friday, we will definitely watch that.  But if the Heat play on Friday night, I’m going to watch every bit of it, and she’ll roll with that.

So that’s life with Skip Bayless?

It’s insatiable.  It does not stop.

 

 

Is Skip Bayless for real? Departure from Tribune says much about approach on First Take

My latest Chicago Tribune column is on a Tribune alum, Skip Bayless.

You also can access the column via my Twitter feed at Sherman_Report.

And beware Bayless critics, but coming later this week, I will post my entire Q/A with Bayless.

An excerpt from the column.

*********

Despite the supposed hatred for him, Bayless contends the show succeeds because it is the opposite of critics’ allegations (that many of his comments are for show).

“It’s 1,000 percent authentic,” Bayless said. “If you follow our show, I defy you to show me something that I said that you thought was completely outlandish and that I said only for the sake of saying it. I’m not doing it for ratings because our audience is sophisticated and smart, and they will see right through that. They keep coming back because they know I believe what I believe.”

Bayless’ departure from the Tribune underscores that point. He says he loved working in Chicago, calling it “the most passionate sports town in the country.” However, he found the situation intolerable when then-editor Ann Marie Lipinski decided that all columns, including his, should be contained on one page instead of starting on one page and continuing to another page. Limited to around 650 words, Bayless says he felt constrained by not having the option to go longer if the subject or his reporting warranted it. He tried the tighter approach but after “suffering emotionally about it,” he told his bosses he couldn’t work that way any longer and was leaving the paper, details Lipinski doesn’t dispute.

The incident, Bayless says, demonstrates he won’t compromise himself. Not for a job, and certainly not for a show.

“My career is my life and my passion,” Bayless said. “It’s not a job, it’s my life. So I was able to (leave the Tribune) when the job no longer fit what I do best.”

 

 

Bill Simmons’ apology for Dr. V story: It was my fault; mistake not to solicit input from trans community

If there’s one thing ESPN does well, it is apologizing when things go wrong. It was Bill Simmons’ turn to attempt to clean up the mess from the Dr. V story in Grantland.

Yesterday, the Grantland editor posted an explanation for Caleb Hannan’s story on the inventor of new putter in golf. How it went from being lauded initially to vilified.

Simmons writes:

Caleb’s biggest mistake? Outing Dr. V to one of her investors while she was still alive. I don’t think he understood the moral consequences of that decision, and frankly, neither did anyone working for Grantland. That misstep never occurred to me until I discussed it with Christina Kahrl yesterday. But that speaks to our collective ignorance about the issues facing the transgender community in general, as well as our biggest mistake: not educating ourselves on that front before seriously considering whether to run the piece.

We found out that Dr. V committed suicide sometime in October, at least four or five weeks after Caleb’s last interaction with her. Caleb was obviously shaken up. We had no plans to run the piece at that point, but we decided to wait a week or two before we officially decided what to do. When that period passed, Caleb decided to write another draft that incorporated everything that happened. A few more weeks passed, and after reading his latest draft after Thanksgiving, we seriously considered the possibility of running the piece.

The dilemma:

We never worried about outing her posthumously, which speaks to our ignorance about this topic in general. (Hold that thought.) We should have had that discussion before we posted the piece. (Hold that thought, too.) In the moment, we believed you couldn’t “out” someone who was already dead, especially if she was a public figure. Whether you believe we were right or wrong, let’s at least agree that we made an indefensible mistake not to solicit input from ANYONE in the trans community. But even now, it’s hard for me to accept that Dr. V’s transgender status wasn’t part of this story. Caleb couldn’t find out anything about her pre-2001 background for a very specific reason. Let’s say we omitted that reason or wrote around it, then that reason emerged after we posted the piece. What then?

I agree with Simmons here. What would have been the ramifications for Grantland if it withheld that information? Surely, a site like a Deadspin would have uncovered and written that part of Dr. V’s life. As I wrote previously, how do you write 7,700 words on an individual and leave that out?

Simmons writes many people within ESPN signed off on the story.

Before we officially decided to post Caleb’s piece, we tried to stick as many trained eyeballs on it as possible. Somewhere between 13 and 15 people read the piece in all, including every senior editor but one, our two lead copy desk editors, our publisher and even ESPN.com’s editor-in-chief. All of them were blown away by the piece. Everyone thought we should run it. Ultimately, it was my call. So if you want to rip anyone involved in this process, please, direct your anger and your invective at me. Don’t blame Caleb or anyone that works for me. It’s my site and anything this significant is my call. Blame me. I didn’t ask the biggest and most important question before we ran it — that’s my fault and only my fault.

More at fault:

To my infinite regret, we never asked anyone knowledgeable enough about transgender issues to help us either (a) improve the piece, or (b) realize that we shouldn’t run it. That’s our mistake — and really, my mistake, since it’s my site. So I want to apologize. I failed.

More importantly, I realized over the weekend that I didn’t know nearly enough about the transgender community – and neither does my staff. I read Caleb’s piece a certain way because of my own experiences in life. That’s not an acceptable excuse; it’s just what happened. And it’s what happened to Caleb, and everyone on my staff, and everyone who read/praised/shared that piece during that 56-hour stretch from Wednesday to Friday.

And finally:

As for Caleb, I continue to be disappointed that we failed him. It’s our responsibility to motivate our writers, put them in a position to succeed, improve their pieces as much as we possibly can, and most of all protect them from coming off badly. We didn’t do that here. Seeing so many people direct their outrage at one of our writers, and not our website as a whole, was profoundly upsetting for us. Our writers don’t post their stories themselves. It’s a team effort. We all failed. And ultimately, I failed the most because it’s my site and it was my call.

Naturally, Simmons’ apology was picked apart and criticized. All in all, though, I think it was a honest assessment of what happened.

More to come.

 

Dilemma: Was Grantland writer wrong for revealing putter inventor was a trans individual?

ESPN is keeping ombudsman Robert Lipsyte busy these days. Last week, Lipsyte gave his assessment of the Dan Le Batard Hall of Fame vote controversy. Lipsyte thought the stunt was wrong on one level, but served a purpose in elevating the level of discourse.

Well, Lipsyte now has another story to examine, and this one is far more complicated.

Over the weekend, reaction to a story about the inventor of a putter by Caleb Hannan on Grantland blew up on the Internet. Hannan disclosed that the inventor, a woman scientist who went by the nickname of “Dr. V” with a highly questionable resume, was an individual previously known as Stephen Krol. You need to read the story.

The reaction was so intense, ESPN released a statement on Sunday:

“We understand and appreciate the wide range of thoughtful reaction this story has generated and to the family and friends of Essay Anne Vanderbilt, we express our deepest condolences. We will use the constructive feedback to continue our ongoing dialogue on these important and sensitive topics. Ours is a company that values the LGBT community internally and in our storytelling, and we will all learn from this.”

Hannan’s story outraged many who felt he had no business outing Dr. V. Cyd Ziegler of Outsports at SB Nation wrote:

Was this story worth driving someone known to be mentally unstable – with a history of suicide attempts – to take her own life? The pursuit of the story – let alone the publishing of it – shows a willful disregard for humanity and the struggles so many misunderstood minorities face in public – and in the mirror – every day.

Ziegler added:

Certainly there are pieces of history that warranted discussion with this story. Dr. V clearly did not have the professional history she claimed to the writer and potential customers. That’s important for the writer to pursue, and he was right to share the information publicly. But if a trans person asks you to not discuss their very private personal life, do as they ask. Don’t share that information with company investors and certainly do not share it with the public.

It’s their life, not yours.

Josh Levin of Slate wrote:

The fact that Dr. V once lived under a different name is not irrelevant to Hannan’s story—the name change complicated his quest to check up on our background, which I believe makes it fair game if handled sensitively. But presenting Dr. V’s gender identity as one in a series of lies and elisions was a careless editorial decision. Hannan makes no claim that her identity as a trans woman has any bearing on the golf club she invented or the scientific background she inflated. And yet it sent a chill up his spine. It’s this line that feels particularly inhumane. Dr. V is a con artist and a trans woman. Hannan, though, conflates those two facts, acting as though the latter has some relation to the former. It seems that, in his view, they both represent a form of deceit.

Melissa McEwan of Shakesville:

There are already legions of defenders, who are keen to make arguments that Dr. V’s lies about her background are newsworthy, which is debatable, although I tend to agree that lying about her educational and professional history, which were apparently a central part of the pitch to investors and potential buyers, was unethical and worth reporting.* But her being transgender is entirely irrelevant—and if Hannan’s research into the former was what led to his discovery of the latter, it doesn’t mean each piece is equally appropriate to report.

One was about her professional life, and stood to potentially damage her career. The other was about her personal life, and stood to put her at risk for both professional retribution and personal harm.

Which is why, in one of her last communications with Hannan, Dr. V warned him that he “was about to commit a hate crime.”

And there’s much more.

Obviously, there is no easy answer here. The big question in my mind: Did Hannan break an agreement with Dr. V?

When Hannan initially contacted Dr. V, she asked that he agree to make the story about the putter and not the inventor. When confronted about misrepresentations on her resume, she wrote in an email to Hannan:

“As I clearly stated at the onset of your unsolicited probing, your focus must be on the benefits of the Science for the Golfer not the scientist…”

Hannan never said he agreed to Dr. V’s initial demand. However, there appears to be an implied consent to gain the access. So she had reason to feel betrayed.

Hannan, though, did have ample reason to report about Dr. V fabricating items on her resume. She was receiving money from investors for the putter. They had a right to know who they were dealing with in Dr. V.

Actually, there’s a good journalism lesson here. In the wake of the Manti Te’o story, Hannan didn’t accept Dr. V at her word. He checked out her background, separating fact from fiction.

In the process, Hannan discovered Dr. V was a trans individual. Truthfully, I’m not sure what I would have done here. It doesn’t seem possible to do a long piece on an individual and not report that piece of information. Yet I understand what is at stake and the ethics involved.

I wouldn’t have made the decision unilaterally. I would have sought many opinions, from editors to people in the business, before writing the story.

At the end of the day, we all have to make choices. Hannan made his and now he is catching considerable flak.

It’s your turn, Mr. Lipsyte.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Stuart Scott continues fight against cancer: ‘Sorry you’re not going to win this fight’

Josh Krulewitz at ESPN’s Front Row writes about that Stuart Scott will be among the honorees in an “Evening with Heroes” celebration Saturday in Indianapolis.

Scott told Krulewitz:

“This is going to sound weird, but there is a really cool part about cancer and that’s the community of cancer fighters,” Scott said. “Whether you are battling cancer or you love or care about someone who is, there is a bond amongst us and it’s powerful. And every time you meet someone who is in the fight, you just want to hug them. That’s why all 600 people in the room Saturday will be part of something special.”

More from Krulewitz:

ESPN senior coordinating producer Gerry Matalon, who played a key role in ESPN hiring Scott 20 years ago, will be among the 600 in attendance Saturday in Indianapolis to support his friend and colleague. Matalon feels few are better suited to share their cancer story in an effort to help others.

“I can’t find a succinct way to truly describe my awe for how Stuart has battled,” Matalon said. “I am not there during his private moments, but publicly he has been an inspirational example of the awesome personal power of inner strength and determination.”

Scott, who works closely with The V Foundation for Cancer Research on many events and who was a 2011 recipient of its “Spirit of Jimmy V Award,” embodies the organization’s “Don’t Give Up. . . Don’t Ever Give Up” motto.

Said Matalon: “Stu has basically said to cancer: ‘You’ve found the wrong guy. I have a life to live. Sorry, you are not winning this fight.’”

Indeed, Scott is right about that. Truly inspiring.

 

 

Writing kings: Dan Wetzel, ESPN PR’s David Scott wrote new Cuba Gooding Jr. movie on chess

If you look at the credits for the film, Life is King, which comes out Friday, sports readers will find a familiar name, Yahoo! Sports columnist, Dan Wetzel, and sports media types will see David Scott, ESPN’s director of communications for news content. Along with director Jake Goldberger, they wrote the film.

I will have more on how Wetzel and Scott got their project on the big screen later this week. Consider this a sneak preview with the sneak preview.

Here is the rundown from the film’s site:

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Life of a King is the unlikely true story of Eugene Brown and his one-man mission to give inner-city kids of Washington D.C. something he never had – a future. He discovered a multitude of life lessons through the game of chess during his 18-year incarceration for bank robbery. After his release and reentry into the workforce, Eugene developed and founded the Big Chair Chess Club to get kids off the streets and working towards lives they never believed they were capable of due to circumstances. From his daring introductory chess lessons to a group of unruly high school students in detention to the development of the Club and the teens’ first local chess competitions, this movie reveals his difficult, inspirational journey and how he changed the lives of a group of teens with no endgame.

Was Manziel auditioning for ESPN last night? Film room was big winner

Some takeaways from ESPN’s megacast of last night’s game.

Johnny TV: The title game was suppose to be Tim Tebow’s coming-out party in his new role as an ESPN analyst. However, Johnny Manziel stole some of his thunder.

Manziel was featured throughout the pregame show and during the game on ESPN’s somewhat bizarre celebrity channel. Clearly, he was there as more than a casual observer.

Johnny Football definitely was auditioning for a post-football role at ESPN. As the Tebow template shows for a much-hyped Heisman Trophy winner, post-football can come sooner than you think.

Manziel definitely passed the test. He was glib, insightful and charismatic. In fact, he was better than Tebow. Last night showed Manziel will be in high demand by the networks after he throws his final pass.

Tebowing: As for Tebow, he showed some potential. He nearly nailed the final score, predicting a 35-31 Florida State victory.

Tebow was good at explaining the strategy and nuances about the big game. He never will be outspoken, but he might be a solid Xs and Os analyst.

Film study: ESPN’s Film Room in which analysts and coaches broke down the game was a big winner. They nailed it by predicting Florida State’s fake punt.

The platform offered terrific and different insights that you don’t normally hear during the traditional telecast. Expect it to be a staple during network coverage of all big events, from the Super Bowl to the World Series to NBA Finals. This was a game-changer.

However, one negative for me: I had trouble with the split screen format. I found the large-view screen extremely difficult to watch in real time. I would have saved that view for replays and use ESPN’s main feed for live action.

Big mess: Not sure what that thing was on ESPN2. Scott Van Pelt wondered the same thing in a tweet.

It was a mish-mosh that was unwatchable at times. While I love Cheryl Hines, ESPN needed to find a better and more relevant sports celebrity to roll out as the first guest.

Next time, I suggest a drinking game involving tequila shots. Would make things more interesting.

ESPN feeds: I didn’t watch much of the stuff on ESPN’s digital platforms. So I’ll defer to Matt Yoder of Awful Announcing.

The local FSU and Auburn radio calls were fun to switch back and forth for a neutral and I can imagine them being particularly popular for fans of either team involved. The BCS Spidercam (the camera directly behind the offense) also drew some positive reviews although there were a couple glitches versus regular viewing. As was evidenced throughout the night, some of the feeds were off sync with the main ESPN telecast. The only people I saw talking about the ESPN3 Fan Cam throughout the evening were employed by ESPN PR.

On the whole, there wasn’t anything on ESPN3 that would jump out at you as a viewing option for the entire game, but a couple interesting novelties worth checking out periodically.

Traditional telecast: All the gizmos were great. However, when the second half rolled around, I found myself needing to focus on the traditional telecast on ESPN.

That’s where you get the most information, and you still need the announcers to guide you through the telecast. The old way still is the best way, but last night also showed the future definitely is here.