Sometimes we make little mistakes. Sometimes we make medium mistakes. Sometimes we make enormous mistakes. This week, I made an enormous journalism mistake—and I'm horrified.
As someone who worked as a lowly agate clerk at the Rocky Mountain News sports desk in the early-mid 90s (a lifetime ago), my experience with Kravitz was a bit different. He was a lazy, egotistical jerk who always acted bothered when we had to ask him something. Other columnists and beat reporters consistently cranked out great content daily or multiple days a week. He was the aberration, griping whenever he had to write more than two columns a week. Still, I have empathy for what he has gone through lately. Getting laid off and treated shabbily by an employer really sucks.
Forgetting you spoke to someone is not a reason for self-flagellation. You recognize the mistake, apologize, and move on.
Love that Lupica column. What a terrific nugget from the past.
Carl Erskine is the last living member from the 1955 Brooklyn Dodgers? Mr. Koufax prefers to have a word or two with you, Mr. Pearlman.
Out of all the dumb things you did as a young journalist, forgetting you had talked to some on is the least of them
As someone who worked as a lowly agate clerk at the Rocky Mountain News sports desk in the early-mid 90s (a lifetime ago), my experience with Kravitz was a bit different. He was a lazy, egotistical jerk who always acted bothered when we had to ask him something. Other columnists and beat reporters consistently cranked out great content daily or multiple days a week. He was the aberration, griping whenever he had to write more than two columns a week. Still, I have empathy for what he has gone through lately. Getting laid off and treated shabbily by an employer really sucks.