What An Opportunity

Archive for the ‘Sports’ Category

You’d better slow down: reflecting on The 4-Hour Workweek, a bestseller by Timothy Ferriss.

In Sports on April 7, 2014 at 4:06 pm

Slow Dance

by David L. Weatherford

 

Have you ever watched kids

On a merry-go-round?

 

Or listened to the rain

Slapping on the ground?

 

Ever followed a butterfly’s erratic flight?

Or gazed at the sun into the fading night?

 

You better slow down.

Don’t dance so fast.

 

Time is short.

The music won’t last.

 

Do you run through each day

On the fly?

 

When you ask: How are you?

Do you hear the reply?

 

When the day is done,

do you lie in your bed

 

With the next hundred chores

Running through your head?

 

You’d better slow down.

Don’t dance so fast.

 

Time is short.

The music won’t last.

 

Ever told your child,

We’ll do it tomorrow?

 

And in your haste,

Not see his sorrow?

 

Ever lost touch,

Let a good friendship die

 

Cause you never had time

To call and say, “Hi”?

 

You’d better slow down.

Don’t dance so fast.

 

Time is short.

The music won’t last.

 

When you run so fast to get somewhere

You miss half the fun of getting there.

 

When you worry and hurry through your day,

It is like an unopened gift thrown away.

 

Life is not a race.

Do take it slower.

 

Hear the music

Before the song is over.

 

Timothy Ferriss presents some unquestionably revolutionary ideas in his bestseller, The 4-Hour Workweek, but his perspective is well-founded. He makes radical points, but they rise to counter a culture that is dying a cruel death from the inside out. The above poem is contained within the book, and it encapsulates Ferriss’s ideas perfectly. It rings eerily true. Don’t let life pass you by.

Educating the mind, and the heart

In Life, Sports on November 26, 2013 at 4:16 pm

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I say this at the end of every semester, but it feels especially true this time: Man, this semester has flown by. I have a hard time believing it was June 30 when I wrote this blog post – Six reasons you should take sports journalism at the University at Buffalo this fall – in an effort to boost enrollment in a class that focused on a topic I was, and am, passionate about.

The class has now, sadly, reached its conclusion. It was a great experience learning from Keith McShea, a sportswriter at The Buffalo News, for three months. ENG 399: Sports Journalism will undoubtedly go down as one of my favorite classes I took at UB.

This class was a lot of work – more work than any other journalism class at my school – but it didn’t feel like work. It was pleasurable. When you’re doing, or studying, something you love, it all comes easy. As Aristotle said, “Educating the mind without educating the heart is no education at all.” This was, indeed, an educational experience.

If I had to select the one thing I liked the most about the class, I’d say it was the reading we were assigned. We had weekly assignments from The Best American Sportswriting 2012. Some of the stories in that book blew my mind. You know how you feel at the end of a great movie when it all comes together in one triumphant closing sequence? When it all makes sense? Think (500) Days of Summer or Inception. That’s how I felt at the end of some of the stories in that book. Dave Sheinin’s “The Phenomenal Son” was one of my favorites. Another was Robert Huber’s “Allen Iverson: Fallen Star.” I mean, these are stories I likely never would have discovered if it weren’t for this class, and they completely changed the way I look at sportswriting. I think that’s the fundamental purpose of education – to stimulate students’ brains and revolutionize their methods of thinking.

Supplementary to the book reading, students were also required to write one blog post per week on “The best thing I read this week” – as you have probably seen on Gentlemen of Sport quite a bit, with my weekly The Best Sportswriting I Read This Week section. If sportswriting isn’t your thing, I appreciate you tolerating my incessant posts.

Maintaining this section was quite fun for me. Similar to how I felt I grew from reading the book, I grew a lot from reading outside sports journalism. I’ve always read quite a bit of sportswriting, but this class forced me to make sure I did it every week – and to make sure I paid attention to the details, because once I found that piece that I’d dub The Best Sportswriting I Read This Week, I was going to have to write about what made it so good. Again, some of the pieces I studied – from Lee Jenkins’ “Kobe Bryant: Reflections on a cold-blooded career” to Jonathan Mahler’s “The Coach Who Exploded” – just sent my mind spinning. This is art expressed in sportswriting we’re talking about. I loved studying it.

I also enjoyed the structure of the class’ final assignment – a longform writing piece. I’m finishing mine up this Thanksgiving break. This part of the class leaves everyone with a solid clip to show employers, and it involves the students applying what they have studied all semester. The way I see it, what’s the sense of knowing everything about a topic if you never try applying that knowledge yourself? Of course, we college students are not going to twist clever phrases like Dave Sheinin or set scenes with ease like Lee Jenkins, but we can try.

And the more you try something, the better you get. You gain confidence with time and experience. Maybe one day one of the students in this class will wind up producing a piece students around the country will study. That wouldn’t surprise me.

Passion always starts somewhere. I thought I was passionate about sportswriting before this class. I did really like it. But I didn’t have that fervor to write something great, something legendary that will last forever. Now I do.

In this class, I learned a ton about the topic, gained practical experience, and developed a true zeal for the field of study. That’s what education is all about.

A sample platter of stories that matter

In Sports on November 22, 2013 at 10:51 pm

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I sat on my couch and thought: I’ve read a lot of good sportswriting this week, but no single piece stands out as clearly the best.

Thus, I decided to change up the format this time around for The Best Sportswriting I Read This Week – a weekly column aimed at exposing the best piece of sports literary journalism I have perused each week. This time, it’s going to be a sample platter of sorts – a rundown of four of the most well-written, intriguing pieces I have read this week. And the spectrum varies – there are stories about both basketball and football, funny pieces and serious pieces, but it is all golden.

1. If you’ve read this section before, you know how much I love Bill Simmons. So it should come as no surprise that he made the list yet again this week. This time, though, it isn’t for one of his patented weekly NFL picks columns (though his picks are included in a sidebar). It is for this piece: All Hail Megatron.

I have to admit I was thoroughly excited to see Simmons had written something longform on one single topic, and he didn’t disappoint. His case for considering Calvin Johnson one of the greatest receivers of all-time – already!!! – is well-articulated and thoughtful. Here’s what I respect most about it: Simmons defends his argument with anecdotes and stats. He saw Jerry Rice play in his heyday, and he’s seeing Megatron play in his. But he doesn’t just talk about what it was like watching each of them play (though that does help, too). He provides stats. Lots of ’em. Enhanced stats. Prediction stats. That takes effort. Simmons may be a genius, and he may be a comic, but he grinds hard to be good at what he does. This piece is an example of the goodness of Bill Simmons.

2. Back to Grantland! Check this piece out – The NFL’s Modern Man.

If the artwork (at the top of this column) doesn’t hook you, the story will. Connor Barwin is a linebacker for the Philadelphia Eagles. He’s also a – well, as the story puts it, “bike-riding, socially conscious, Animal Collective–loving hipster.”

Author Robert Mays does a stellar job capturing Barwin’s essence – he’s a hipster, sure, but not in a pretentious way. He’s really just a down-to-earth dude who likes indie music and happens to be huge and play football. Mays clearly spent some time with Barwin for this piece – they even had pizza! – and he did a great job telling the eclectic story of an eclectic man. I highly recommend it.

3. From football to basketball! Women’s basketball…err, men’s basketball…err, both at the same time? That’s right: This New York Times story discusses the Mixed Gender Basketball Association, a professional basketball league incorporating male and female athletes into the same game.

Crazy, right? I thought so, too. But the more this piece went on, the more we got to hear from John Howard about the pros and cons and possibilities of implementing this kind of basketball association, the more I wanted to see it happen. This story probably happened in a day – Harvey Araton probably went to the New Jersey for the tryout and wrote the story shortly afterward (perhaps even the same day, on deadline). It’s impressive writing, but nothing glamorous. It’s just a tremendous topic, and it’s something I expect to hear more of in the future.

4. Last, but never least, Kyrie Irving’s handle. Last year, when he broke Brandon Knight’s ankles, I think America became aware of the greatness that is Irving’s ball-handling ability. I remember being in shock when he led Duke as a freshman over my Michigan State Spartans. He was 18 years old and he went off! Thirty-one points! It was so painful, but I knew Irving was something special.

But where did it all begin? How did this kid – remember, he’s still just 21 years old – get so darn good with the basketball? As a basketball apologist, I’ve asked myself that question many times since his emergence. Bleacher Report provides the comprehensive answer here: Kyrie Irving Reveals His Ball-Handling Secrets.

I have to say, Bleacher Report has truly improved as a sports journalism outlet since its addition of several big-name sportswriters – Bleacher Report adds Howard Beck; expected to go after more writers with big-money offers.

And if that topic doesn’t interest you, you should at least check out the greatest thing Kyrie Irving has ever done: the Uncle Drew commercials. Buckets.

Recent entries of The Best Sportswriting I Read This Week:

Nov. 16, 2013: An explosion of color

Nov. 8, 2013: Is it time to rethink America’s game?

Oct. 30, 2013: A blast-off of creativity

Oct. 27, 2013: Reflections on a cold-blooded feature

An explosion of color

In Sports on November 16, 2013 at 4:05 pm

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Talk about an incredible character portrait: This New York Times Magazine profile of former Rutgers coach Mike Rice — The Coach Who Exploded — is The Best Sportswriting I Read This Week.

There is one thing I like about this story above all else: It feels like one cohesive narrative. It jumps between times – from Rice’s childhood to his coaching career to modern day – but feels like one story that flows seamlessly.

There are so many other, smaller things, though, that I also appreciate.

One, this is the first time Mike Rice has put his side of the story out to the public. He has been essentially mute since his famous firing from Rutgers after video surfaced of him berating his players (mostly verbally and in some cases physically). That means this writer has access.

When Dave Sheinin spoke to my class earlier this fall, he preached that access is everything. Without access to Rice, this story wouldn’t be nearly what it is. By “access,” I don’t mean that the writer, Jonathan Mahler, landed an interview with Rice. I mean he spent serious time with “The Coach Who Exploded.” We’re talking months. No one else has even gotten an interview with this guy, and Mahler followed him on-and-off for months. That’s access. That’s what makes this story what it is.

There are quite a few personal anecdotes from this story that stuck with me. Lee Jenkins once told me to imagine when I’m writing a story that I’m hooked up to a heart-rate monitor. Whenever something makes that thing beep and makes my heart rate jump, that’s something I need to capture in my story.

Mahler does just that when he relays the stories of Rice (accidentally or not) knocking his father in the mouth in a pick-up basketball game the day before Rice’s wedding, telling his players to “get ready for the chaos,” and hanging newspaper clippings on a punching bag in the locker room. There’s also a nice touch that shows a bit of Rice’s personality when the coach implores Mahler to have a beer. Again, these are all heart-rate moments.

Another thing I love about this story is its objectivity. Mahler doesn’t take an angle of, “Look how good Mike Rice is now!” He realizes that would be too easy. He realizes that would be predictable. It’d be unoriginal.

Instead, he gives exactly what we as readers deserve: a fuller picture of just who this guy is, an idea of which chemicals mixed together to lead to his explosion.

It results in one of the best character portraits I have read this year.

Recent entries of The Best Sportswriting I Read This Week:

Nov. 8, 2013: Is it time to rethink America’s game?

Oct. 30, 2013: A blast-off of creativity

Oct. 27, 2013: Reflections on a cold-blooded feature

Oct. 11, 2013: The Times profiles Mills, and Cacciola’s writing thrills

As a new coach, lessons are many

In Sports on November 8, 2013 at 10:55 pm

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I have an assignment I cannot fulfill.

My sports journalism professor brought in a tremendous guest speaker this week – Buffalo News sports columnist Jerry Sullivan, whom I have written about before (Emotions flow freely, and so does Sullivan’s quality writing). He assigned the class to write a blog post about Sullivan’s visit and what they learned from the talk.

I cannot do that because I was not there. So, if he is my favorite sports columnist, why did I skip class? I promise I had a very good reason.

It was the first day of tryouts – tryouts for the junior varsity high school basketball team I am coaching. This is my first year as a coach, and I have just completed my first week in the position. So, instead of writing about Sullivan, I have decided to write about what I learned in my first official week as a high school basketball coach.

I chose to become a coach because my basketball coaches were some of the most influential people in determining who I became as a man. I looked up to them like nobody else. I was extremely fortunate to have respectable men in those positions, certifiable role models deserving of the adoration. I want to be that positive role model for young men now that I am older – attempting to teach them about life while I teach them the beautiful game of basketball, which I have come to adore.

The first week was surprisingly easy. I ran them hard, because I learned in my career that hard work is the best recipe for success. It is a small school, and they are still relatively young – 9th and 10th graders – so some of them minimal basketball experience. This season will test my patience, and I have already observed that I will learn more from them than they will learn from me. They have youthful exuberance for learning and vitality for life. It’s fun to be around. In the 9-to-5 grind, it’s easy to forget that we were once like that.

The big thing I learned from my first week as a high school basketball coach is that it’s easy to be a leader when you have been around great leaders. I was concerned I could never duplicate the type of passionate coaching and mentoring I received while I was in high school – that I would choke under pressure or forget my drills or just not have it as a coach – but it has come easily. From the first moment I addressed my team, I knew what I needed to do, because I have observed such great coaches in my career. This week taught me that leaders breed leaders.

That is just another reminder that we become the average of the people we surround ourselves with – which is why I want to surround myself with positive influences and purge the negative ones.

On the topic of life choices, I have also learned the importance of filtering my lifestyle more carefully now than ever before. My players are watching. If I want to be a positive influence on these young men, I need to be the best example I can. I don’t take that responsibility lightly. I can already see how much high schoolers look up to their coaches and want to emulate them, just as I once wanted to emulate my high school coach.

The funny thing is, I still do.

Is it time to rethink America’s Game?

In Sports on November 8, 2013 at 9:59 pm

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I decided to take a different angle on this week’s edition of The Best Sportswriting I Read This Week. I spent more time mulling over this piece, determining how I truly felt about its conclusion, because the topic is something that has weighed heavily on my conscience and been on my mind quite a lot recently.

Here is the story I am referencing, the single best piece of sportswriting I read this week: Man Up: Declaring a war on warrior culture in the wake of the Miami Dolphins bullying scandal

The motivation for the post is well-known news by now: One Miami Dolphins offensive lineman, Jonathan Martin, has decided to take time away from the team for personal issues. It has come to light that he was struggling because Richie Incognito, another lineman, was bullying, or “hazing,” him. There is a more thorough explanation of the situation in the link above.

But I’m not here to talk about what happened, which seems, from what has been reported, to be a simply disgusting case of bullying and prejudice. I’m here to talk about this Grantland piece and its premise that the “man up” culture in the NFL needs to go, among other things.

I have many conflicting feelings about this idea in general, so I’ll try to voice them all. First, I am a high school basketball coach – this whole “I am a man, I am indestructible and you can’t stop me” idea is not exclusive to football players; it is pervasive in many sports, including basketball. The difference is that football is the sport known for its concussion issues, known for causing brain problems among former and current players that could lead to suicide. I have written about the problems with contact in football on this blog before and explored my personal experience with the dilemma – On concussions, and why I’m not sure I’ll let my kids play football. 

First, let me make it clear that after mulling it over, I agree entirely with Brian Phillips’ conclusion – people are ridiculous, absolutely foolish and misled, for asserting Martin needs to “man up” or saying he is a coward. This paragraph sums it up:

The brain is a part of the body. It’s an organ. It’s a physical thing. Sometimes it breaks. Sometimes it breaks because you beat it against the inside of your skull so hard playing football, and sometimes — because it’s unimaginably intricate, the brain, way more intricate than even a modified read-option — it breaks for reasons that are harder to see. Your ability to chortle “boys will be boys” doesn’t mean that psychological abuse of the sort that Martin apparently endured can’t widen that kind of fracture. But then, does the cause even matter?

I really enjoy Phillips’ style of writing. He uses run-ons, and normally I do not support that incoherent, all-over-the-place style of writing. But it’s clear in this case that he is ranting. The run-ons help convey that tone. Phillips claims he is picking a fight with his reader, another unusual way to pen a column, but again it works because of his sheer emotion and strong, well-rounded argument. The run-ons help convey his passion.

It’s also important to point out that Grantland disabled comments on this piece. I took that as a powerful move. It makes this article more of a statement than a discussion – which a column ordinarily seeks to incite. But this is a battle – and it is a strong declaration from Grantland, almost making the piece seem like an editorial.

Now I will get to the question I’ve really been thinking about: Are we encouraging something preposterous by continuing to support – or perhaps even worship – this sport of football, which we have seen more and more can lead to devastating brain injuries that can ruin lives? Is this spectacle something people will look back at in 200 or 300 years and think was crazy?

Of course, we think everything is normal now, it’s all good – but it isn’t. We don’t have everything figured out in 2013. I’ll bet some of our current behavior will seem unimaginable in the future. They’ll ask, How could people have been so blind? Why didn’t anyone stop this? just like we do when we consider some of the tragedies of the past.

Are we supporting a modern-day gladiator situation? Are we encouraging brutes to bang their heads against each other, knowing it will lead to their detriment, in a coliseum? And is that comparison so far out?

I will have the distinct honor this Wednesday of interviewing Mr. Malcolm Gladwell, one of the foremost thinkers of my generation and a terrific journalist, writer and scholar. He has posited college football should be done away with entirely. View one video of him briefly expounding upon his argument here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n9qBLb_QBQw

I can’t say I disagree with Mr. Gladwell. Watch the video and tell me his argument is invalid. I’ll bet you can’t.

It’s completely valid. If we have the slightest inkling that this game could ruin its participants’ brains, aren’t we a bit asinine to continue supporting it? Doesn’t that make us masochists?

It’s even more crazy than labeling Jonathan Martin a coward.

Recent entries of The Best Sportswriting I Read This Week:

Oct. 30, 2013: A blast-off of creativity

Oct. 27, 2013: Reflections on a cold-blooded feature

Oct. 11, 2013: The Times profiles Mills, and Cacciola’s writing thrills

Oct. 8, 2013: Simmons’ comedy, research make column a winner

A blast-off of creativity

In Sports on October 30, 2013 at 11:18 pm

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Writing columns isn’t easy. Not only is your name attached to the story, your picture is, too. Readers’ comments can get personal, and their attacks can get vicious.

And columns are opinionated by nature. While an article states, “this is what happened,” a column opines, “this is how I feel about what happened.” So when people disagree with your opinion, they’re sure to be unhappy. And when people hide behind a keyboard, they don’t have any problem hurling insults.

That’s why I have a lot of respect for columnists. They get glory when people like them (they’re the “celebrities,” so to speak, among print journalists), but they also get plenty of hate. As I have stated on this blog before, my favorite sports columnist is The Buffalo News’ Jerry Sullivan (what can I say, I’m partial to my hometown and the teams there). There are quite a few other great ones at newspapers in America, though. One of those tremendous columnists is The Los Angeles Times’ Bill Plaschke – whom you might know from “Around The Horn.”

Plaschke’s column on the Los Angeles Lakers’ 116-103 victory over the Clippers Tuesday wins The Best Sportswriting I Read This Week.

Here is the link: What a blast-off by the Lakers’ castoffs

Let’s start with the title. I realize a copy editor back at The Times’ office probably wrote it, but it’s terrific. Rarely can you create an applicable title that rhymes and doesn’t sound cheesy. I love it. Shout out to that editor.

I also enjoy the lede, which lasts five paragraphs. The “never…” start to every sentence creates a structure and rhythm that got me hooked on the story. Additionally, the two-word sentence – “Believe it” – that ends the sequence is short but smooth. Plaschke was clearly setting it up with all the “never thoughts.” He also keeps the rhythm by ending the next three sentences with “it.” (Believe it. The building is still rocking from it. The NBA experts are still reeling from it.)

This column reads like a poem. The writing is outside the box. That’s why I like it. Traditional is boring. Creativity is enticing. In this 30-second-attention-span day and age, writers need to break the mold to maintain an audience’s focus. Plaschke routinely breaks the mold. That’s why he’s great.

A couple examples of sentences that could have been worded literally and straightforwardly but are more effective because they read like well-crafted prose:

The Lakers hit them over the head with a bench, kicked them in the gut with energy…

It was Showtime from a team expected to spend the season in down time. 

It was skips and struts from reserve Jodie Meeks.

This is another part of the column I enjoyed that isn’t a credit to Plaschke but to The Times, but I enjoy all the related content listed alongside this story. There are four related stories and one photo gallery – all five items listed with terrific pictures – to complement Plaschke’s piece. That adds aesthetic value and also tells me The Times put some serious effort into covering this game. Small things make a big difference to readers.

There is something I don’t like about the column: I think he overhypes the Clippers. They’re expected to be good, sure, but I haven’t seen any pundits predicting they’ll go to the NBA Finals. But Plaschke consistently says things like, “ The Clippers aren’t supposed to be knocked out until at least the NBA Finals.” I know this is his opinion, but I think he’s exaggerating how good people expect the Clips to be this year.

In all, I like this column because the writing is terrific and because Plaschke captures the spirit of the night. I felt like I attended the Lakers-Clippers game Tuesday night because he makes it seem so real. He’s not getting carried away, saying the Lakers are terrific and Clippers are terrible. He is merely reporting on one game and telling the reader how he felt about what happened.

He does a fine job getting that across – capturing the spirit of the night.

Recent entries of The Best Sportswriting I Read This Week:

Oct. 27, 2013: Reflections on a cold-blooded feature

Oct. 11, 2013: The Times profiles Mills, and Cacciola’s writing thrills

Oct. 8, 2013: Simmons’ comedy, research make column a winner

Sept. 29, 2013: Grantland Flexed: Giraldi’s piece on Heath is astounding

Sept. 23, 2013: Jets best Bills, and Times’ reporting, as always, impresses

Sept. 15, 2013: Emotions flow freely, and so does Sullivan’s quality writing

Sept. 8, 2013: The Buffalo News’ Canisius football preview: Why it worked

For the love of beautiful writing

In Sports on October 30, 2013 at 7:28 pm

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Dave Sheinin, The Washington Post sportswriter probably most well known for his book on Robert Griffin III and extensive coverage of Stephen Strasburg, spoke to my sports journalism class on Monday. To be specific, he spoke to us via Skype – which should come as no surprise, considering he is seemingly always on the move and is a platinum member at one hotel chain and a gold member at another. He was about to be on the road (again); he estimates he has spent over five years of his life in hotel rooms.

First, I should note that I think Sheinin wrote the finest, most beautiful sports feature story I have ever read. It was titled  “The Phenomenal Son” in print, “For the love of Bryce Harper” online. It might take you 15-20 minutes to read the piece, but believe me, it’s worth every second.

I had about 50 questions to ask Sheinin. I see him as someone who has accomplished many of the things I dream of – writing longform pieces for a living, occasionally taking a year to write a book about a fascinating athlete, merging art and creativity into literature all in the scope of sports journalism. He was incredibly helpful (and humble) and provided some stellar advice for young writers.

There were a few things I found most interesting.

As for his most practical advice? “Make yourself an essential voice on the topic you want to cover.” That means, if you want to write about football for the rest of your life, then you had better make yourself an integral reporter when it comes to getting news on football.

As for his advice that I’ll apply the most to my writing? “Get to a quiet spot right away” after you interview a source. I often take notes during an interview but then don’t quite grasp the emotions I was feeling during our conversation when I readdress my notes a few days or a week later. Sheinin says write how the interview went, and how you were feeling during it, right after. Valuable advice.

But as for the most captivating thing he said? That’s easy.

Many of the students’ questions had to do with his style of writing and reporting and selecting what fits into a story – essentially, how do you do what you do? “There is a mysterious quality to how we do what we do sometimes,” Sheinin said. “I can’t explain half of what I write.”

It wasn’t an answer we, as young writers, could apply to our own writing, but I appreciated it. It was honest. He wasn’t trying to hide some grand secret from us. He, like many of the other great sports writers today, is an artist. He is a wordsmith, molding sentences and paragraphs strategically, emphasizing certain factions of the story at certain times, all to make the reader feel a specific emotion. As Isaac Babel once said, “No iron spike can pierce the human heart as icily as a period in the right place.” Most artists can’t explain their thought process simply – they’re just doing what feels write. They’re letting their creativity flow. That’s what Sheinin does.

Sheinin discussed the feeling he had when he learned he would be given a 4,000-word canvas to create his Phenomenal Son feature. He was thrilled. He wanted to make some art. “I can really take a chance and make this thing sing,” he said.

And, well – listen to the music.

What has made this University at Buffalo football team so good?

In Sports on October 27, 2013 at 10:00 pm

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It has not been that enjoyable covering the University at Buffalo football team since I’ve been in college. Losing just isn’t fun in any way, and writing about losing is no different.

But this year has been fun. There hasn’t been much losing.

I just returned from a weekend in Kent, Ohio, where UB defeated Kent State, 41-21, on Saturday to claim sole possession of first place in the Mid-American Conference East division. The Bulls are 6-2 (4-0 in the MAC) and are bowl eligible for the first time since the 2008 season, which people around Western New York reflect on as the greatest year in UB history.

It is an exciting time to cover the team, and I’m thankful it’s happening my senior year – likely the final year I’ll be able to cover the Bulls. Having spent a good deal of time around the squad the past three years, I can give two key reasons this year has been different.

1. Two words: Khalil Mack

This is an incredibly obvious point if you’ve watched any UB games this year, but if you haven’t, listen up: This guy is really good at football.

Mack is the Bulls’ best player and without a doubt the finest athlete in school history. UB has never had a player selected higher than the fourth round in the NFL Draft; Mack is projected to go in the top 10 of the first round.

To put it simply, the senior linebacker/defensive end is an animal. He gets in the backfield at will, can snag passes out of the air like a receiver, runs like a tailback and tosses quarterbacks around like rag dolls.

He’s on the verge of setting two all-time NCAA records – for tackles for loss and fumbles forced – and is genuinely fun to watch. There have been many NFL scouts at Bulls games this year (that never happens).

This is uncharted territory for a UB athlete, and it’s a big part of the reason this year has been so enjoyable to observe.

Khalil is also just a great guy. Want to know more about him? Check out this feature I wrote about him for our football preview in August.

2. The well-balanced offense

In the past, it’s seemed the Bulls could only get one facet of their offense – either passing or running – going at one time. It’s been that way since 2008, when the passing game (with Drew Willy at QB and Naaman Roosevelt at WR) and running game (with the Green Bay Packers’ James Starks at RB) were both proficient. To win the MAC, you’ve got to have a formidable and balanced offense.

Buffalo finally has that this year. Bo Oliver, a compact tank of a running back whom some have likened to Maurice Jones-Drew, is setting records left and right – he’s now UB’s all-time leader in rushing yards in a career. He had 185 yards and four touchdowns Saturday against Kent State and made two plays that had me laughing at how ridiculous they were: 1. He literally threw a defender off of him two yards into the air when they collided near the goal line (Bo made it in). 2. He pulled off the craziest stutter-step (also known as an “okie dok”) you’ll ever see; the defender looked completely frozen. Oliver has returned to the form Bulls fans saw in 2011, before an MCL tear derailed his 2012 season.

But it hasn’t just been Bo. The passing game is respectable, too. Sophomore quarterback Joe Licata is developing more confidence every week, and his favorite target – senior Alex Neutz – will play on Sundays next year. Neutz has remarkable ball skills in the air and an extraordinary vertical leap (which is why volleyball was his first love). Senior Fred Lee, an excellent blocker and possession receiver, has emerged as a legitimate No. 2 threat, too, which has helped keep double coverage away from Neutz.

With this balanced offense, defenses haven’t figured out who to key in on.

I’m not sure if the Bulls will win their conference championship or even get a bowl invitation, but it has sure been fun to cover a winning team this year.

Reflections on a cold-blooded feature

In Sports on October 27, 2013 at 8:39 pm

I had the opportunity to learn from Lee Jenkins (right) at a conference in New York City last spring.

Sometimes it’s tough for me to settle on The Best Sportswriting I Read This Week. Not this week.

I always enjoy Lee Jenkins’ work for Sports Illustrated – I have taken particular pleasure in his pieces on LeBron James – but I don’t think I’ve ever been more impressed with something he has written than this piece: Kobe Bryant: Reflections on a cold-blooded career.

It’s a tremendous story. How do you write about someone who has been written about so many times before and still piece together a compelling story? By being really good at your job, that’s how.

Jenkins goes to breakfast with Bryant (whose breakfast sounds really delicious, by the way) and takes us through the mealtime conversation but tells Kobe’s life story in the process (it reminds me of this stellar piece on Ron Washington, in which the writer visits Washington at his house but rehashes his managing highs and lows in the process of the day).

In addition to revealing some anecdotes we don’t know, Jenkins touches on parts of Kobe’s career we all know but provides details we have never heard; he tells the story – the Legacy of Kobe Bean Bryant – better than I have ever seen it told.

It doesn’t hurt that the writing is exquisite. Where to begin? Let’s take it from the top.

The lede

Oh, no, here comes another office-park all-star with a retreating hairline and a softening middle who wants to take his pants off in front of Kobe Bryant.

As I’ve mentioned before, you want your lede to grab the readers’ attention. Simply introducing the breakfast would be boring and far too easy; telling one of those hilarious anecdotes I mentioned – and I’ll get to those – would hook the reader, but you also want your lede to apply to the whole story and introduce it.

The perfect medium? Finding a way to introduce the breakfast while telling a hilarious story. This moment also captures the scene and makes us feel like we’re there.

OK, so why does this lede matter, and why does it tie in to the story? We find that answer immediately. Kobe is returning from a serious Achilles tear and his future as a ballplayer is in question.

Part of rehab from a ruptured Achilles tendon is a hundred run-ins with Baby Boomers who underwent similar procedures after fateful pickup games and racquetball matches. They are eager to reveal the flesh evidence, regardless of what layers they must lift, unbutton or discard. “Been 10 years,” the man crows, pointing down at his own heel, “and it’s never felt stronger.”

So, we got why this anecdote matters, but just in case we needed a little more evidence:

Even the toughest s.o.b. on hardwood can use the occasional reminder that everything is going to be O.K. 

Jenkins developed this scene – just a casual conversation – fully and tied it into the big picture of the story. I’m not sure the average reader will grasp just how tough that is, but it is quite impressive that he pulled it off.

The descriptions

As I mentioned, this story is covered with beautiful short sequences. Here are a few of my favorites:

They blush in response, turning redder than a Clippers road jersey.

Clippers road jerseys are really red.

More than the 31,000 points, 15 All-Star selections and five championships, more than the silky turnaround jumpers, effortless baseline drives and feverish scoring binges, Bryant will forever be remembered for a belief in himself that you couldn’t strip with a dozen Bruce Bowens.

Bruce Bowen is known as the strongest modern-day defensive player – sorry, Glove – and he squared off with Bryant many times. These days, you can find Bowen wearing a bow tie on ESPN.

There it is, one more brushstroke applied to the intricately drawn image of Kobe Bean Bryant.

This is just a great line. A two-part developed metaphor – simple in theory, flawless in execution.

He doesn’t flinch when an inbounds passer pretends to throw a ball at his nose. He doesn’t glance down after he turns an ankle. He doesn’t sleep much, content to lie with a towel over his eyes, his brain leading a fast break. 

Here we have two examples of just how tough he is – remember, showing is much more powerful than telling – and then a look into his life. “His brain leading a fast break” – I was a point guard throughout my basketball career, and I’ve done this many times in my life (when you’re a floor general, you do it subconsciously), but I never thought of that way of phrasing it – and it’s also an important line because Bryant is no PG; he’s a 2 or 3. This paragraph gives us a look into Bryant’s psyche and crazy dedication to the game of basketball.

He sips his latte. Housewives flit around the courtyard in yoga pants. 

I found this line hilarious. It’s essential because it takes us back to the scene and reminds us that we’re having breakfast with Kobe Bryant. It’s also descriptive – not only are there people walking about at the scene, but those people are housewives and they’re wearing yoga pants. Now you see what Jenkins sees. Now you feel even more like you’re there at the time of the interview. I loved this moment.

And he sticks that gold Lakers jersey back in his teeth

Jenkins could have said, “and he gets back on the court.” Too easy. Bryant often bites his jersey. This is a simple but effective way to enhance jargon and give a fuller picture of Kobe’s persona.

The small in-story stories

Jenkins provides a few on-point anecdotes.

I thought this was the best part of the whole story: Bryant telling his trainer he could get a key from, well, behind his eye. It’s a tough movie moment to describe, but Jenkins nails it. Here’s the whole scene:

Years ago, upon returning from the horror flick Saw II, Bryant described for Lakers trainer Gary Vitti a scene in which a victim awakens to find a contraption locked around his neck lined with nails pointed at his head. A videotape explains that the victim can unlock the device with a key, but it has been surgically implanted behind his right eye, and he can only extract it with a scalpel. He has a minute before it closes over his face and kills him. “I think I could get that key,” Bryant said.

“I believe you,” Vitti replied.

But, oh, that outstanding story is just one of many. How about the time Kobe chucked his mask and went to war?

We spent a couple days frantically trying to find a mask that would fit him. The day of the game, at the Palestra, he warmed up with the mask on. But in the locker room, right before we went out on the court, he ripped it off in front of everybody. He threw it against the wall and yelled, ‘I’m not wearing this thing! Let’s go to war!’ He scored 39 points. We won.”

And that time he turned down a role in one of the best basketball movies of all-time?

That summer Spike Lee begins filming He Got Game, a movie with Denzel Washington about a basketball prodigy named Jesus Shuttlesworth. “I want you to be part of it,” Lee tells Bryant. “Thank you but no thank you,” Bryant says. “This summer is too big for me.” Ray Allen lands the role as Shuttlesworth.

The language

I don’t curse verse often, and I never do it in writing. But Kobe loves swearing. I’m not sure why. It’s just who he is, and it’s part of the reason we love him. Jenkins doesn’t try to hide that. This story is supposed to give a full picture of who Kobe is, after all. Why not embrace all of who he is? Here are a few examples:

“I was lucky to grow up in Italy at a time when basketball in America was getting f—– up with AAU shuffling players through on strength and athleticism,” Bryant says.

Bryant tries not to roll his eyes. You’re grown-ass men, he thinks. And you’re right: I don’t f—— need you

“Then everything sinks in, and it’s like, Oh, no, now you better win or your whole career is basically bulls—,” Bryant says. “Those last three championships you won will be meaningless.”

And, of course, the Kobe-being-Kobe quote

There were so many parts of this story I loved. But as for my favorite quote? That’s easy:

“I can’t relate to lazy people,” Bryant says, speaking generally, not about Mayo. “We don’t speak the same language. I don’t understand you. I don’t want to understand you. Go over there.

Recent entries of The Best Sportswriting I Read This Week:

Oct. 11, 2013: The Times profiles Mills, and Cacciola’s writing thrills

Oct. 8, 2013: Simmons’ comedy, research make column a winner

Sept. 29, 2013: Grantland Flexed: Giraldi’s piece on Heath is astounding

Sept. 23, 2013: Jets best Bills, and Times’ reporting, as always, impresses

Sept. 15, 2013: Emotions flow freely, and so does Sullivan’s quality writing

Sept. 8, 2013: The Buffalo News’ Canisius football preview: Why it worked

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