The Yang Slinger: Vol. LXXVII

There are good ways for young journalists to reach out to veterans and there are bad ways for young journalists to reach out to veterans. Just remember: We don't want to hear how amazing you are. Ever

“One of the most useful business books I ever read was Dale Carnegie’s 1936 self-help bestseller ‘How to Win Friends and Influence People.’ Far from being dated, the book has been reissued in a number of new editions over the years and there are a lot of ideas in it that are helpful and timeless. A key idea in that book is that you should never regard people as stepping stones to further your career. As the book suggests, be genuinely interested in other people. Follow the work of writers you respect, attend their readings, take their classes. Talk to them about things other than the assistance you may need in your own life. If something comes up and you think they can help, perhaps then you can consider reaching out. Establishing a group of friends, acquaintances, mentors and sponsors that you genuinely feel connected to is more fulfilling and rewarding than building a transactional network of sources you can tap. For example, I’ve read every one of Jeff Pearlman’s books. So now I feel perfectly at ease asking him for an interest-free loan of $500,000.”

— Christopher John Farley, author

•••

So about a week ago, I received a letter from a college senior who aspires to work as a journalist.

I’d been told this person would be reaching out, and when the e-mail arrived in my in-box I was hardly surprised. Plus, journalism is one of those fields where part of getting older includes helping those who follow in your wake. Just as vets like Bill Fleischman and Chuck Stone and Mike Freeman and Joe Lombardi offered a young me all sorts of advice, I try my best to pay it forward. It’s the right thing to do, sans debate or much hesitation.

I digress.

The e-mail arrived.

I opened it.

I read it.

Here, with some redactions, is what the person wrote …

I hated it.

No.

I fucking hated it.

This is a student I’ve never met. Literally, we have never before spoken or e-mailed. And, after a brief introduction, he asks me (again—a person he does not know) whether I’m aware of any open columnist or editorial positions … at ESPN.

I wanna repeat that: The college kid is asking me, a stranger, whether I can direct him toward an ESPN gig.

It’s fairly clear he has researched nothing about me or my background. I doubt he’s read a single article I’ve written. And, not for nothing, he refers to me “Jeff”—which is 100-percent fine once I offer (as I always do) the ol’, “Call me Jeff.”¹ But if you’re 22, e-mailing someone at 51 … nah. Big nah.

I showed the correspondence to a colleague, and he was equally aghast. And maybe “aghast” isn’t quite the right word, because neither of us were actually offended or angry or, eh, particularly aghast. I mean, youth is wasted on the young, and I made far worse blunders in my time as an undergrad and newbie professional. But it just rubbed me the wrong way.

So I responded …

And … I dunno. Maybe it’s a bit too harsh. Maybe mentioning the TV show is a bit too douchey. But I kept thinking about 22-year-old me, and all the things I needed (but failed to receive) to infiltrate my cocky, immature, naive brain when I was a Delaware senior looking to turn my passion into a career.

Which is why I’m devoting this week’s Substack to the singular topic: How to reach out to veteran journalists.

You are a college senior.

You want to be a journalist.

You’ve decided to seek out wisdom from your elders.

What to do?

First, do not (unless specifically instructed) call. And do not (unless specifically instructed) text.

E-mail.

I know, I know. E-mail seems old and stodgy. But most of us are old and stodgy. Also, texts from strangers feel intrusive. When I (on occasion) receive a text from an aspiring journalist sans heads-up or warning, my first thought isn’t, “How cool!” No, it’s, “How did this kid get my phone number?”

So, again, e-mail.

Now, there are things the e-mail should be for, and things the e-mail should not be for.

Should: Asking advice about becoming a journalist. (Rick Hurd: “This is what grabs me: Written emails that are respectful, telling of their passion and humility about why they’re reaching out.”)

Should not: Asking for a job.

Should: Asking whether the vet might read one or two of your articles and, perhaps, offer feedback.

Should not: Asking if the vet might read 15 of your articles.

Should: Be grammatically perfect. (Paola Boivin: “Make sure to spell the person’s name right.”)

Should not: Be pocked with errors.

Should: Explaining, briefly, who you are and why you love journalism.

Should not: Bragging about your awesomeness.

Should: Complimenting the veteran on one of their stories, and making it clear you’re a fan of the person’s work (even, cough, if you’re not really). (Scott Russell: “One word comes to mind - READ - Read the work of the veteran journalists.”)

Should not: Knowing nothing about the veteran. (Kathy Kudravi: “Asking them for their opinion on something going on at a place they worked 10 years ago or a team they covered 10 years ago won't help you. Too far removed.”)

Should: Mentioning some of your favorite writers (this is optional).

Should not: Bashing your least-favorite writers. (Doug Kelly: “Never ask ‘What is your opinion of (fill in blank) 's performance?’”)

Should: Be optimistic.

Should not: Be negative.

I know a lot of this sounds fairly obvious, but it’s a narrow navigational path. And one point I need to emphasize (because it’s an eternal truth) is no journalist over the age of, oh, 30, wants to hear a college kid brag about their greatness. Fuck, I’m gonna write that twice: No journalist over the age of, oh, 30, wants to hear a college kid brag about their greatness. Seriously, if you’re writing me a letter, I don’t want to know that you view yourself as a young Mitch Albom. I don’t want to know that you consider your greatest strengths to be “writing” and “reporting.” I don’t want to know you believe—“deep down”—that you’re ready to cover an NBA beat for The Athletic.

Why? Because journalism is hard, and being good at journalism is really hard. And no matter how many College Media Association awards you won at the Daily Alligator or Muhlenberg Weekly, it’s an enormous leap from there to here. It’s bigger than just being a good writer, or turning a quick phrase. It’s digging. It’s cultivating sources. It’s reading a room. It’s knowing how to open with a strategic softball question one that’ll bring forth gold by question nine. So, again, nobody who’s been around is going to be inspired by the arrogance of a college kid. “This sounds so stupid, but just be kind and polite,” says Mac Engel of the Fort Worth Star-Telegram. “Don't be flippant. Do not act like you know everything, and be above nothing. A veteran in any job does not want to hear entitled arrogance from a younger person who aspires to do what they do. They just want to hear enthusiasm. That's it.”

Along those lines, you’re not writing your pal. This isn’t a casual e-mail to find out when the kegger starts. It’s your career. So treat it seriously. “A lot of people, especially in hip-hop, believe I am ‘the homie’ or something,” says Chuck Creekmur, CEO of All Hip Hop. “No, I am a professional, an owner and a vet. I do not have time for silliness and people that are not serious. This is not fun and games.”

Adds Mike Vaccaro of the New York Post: “I haven’t had that many negative experiences but I do know that two or three times correspondents began to feel comfortable enough to where they would email or text me something like, ‘I thought sportswriter-A’s column was way wrong today’ or worse: ‘I think Sportswriter-B is a clueless hack.’ And even if I happen to agree … you know what, show respect for those who actually do the job you eventually want to do. Bitch about them to your friends, not to me.”

I reached out to a good number of peers for this entry, and several pinpointed not merely the language used, but methodology. As I noted earlier, e-mail trumps texting and calling. According to ESPN’s Chris Herring, there’s even more to consider. “My main advice would just be to not take the lowest common denominator route,” he says. “People who use LinkedIn or just tweet at you have never really appealed to me when it’s generally not been that challenging to find my email—especially when probably 90 percent of places have a first.last@newsoutlet.com email setup. Tracking that down makes it seem like you were willing to go the extra mile, which makes me more inclined to do the same in responding, which takes real time in a crowded schedule of trying to juggle work, book stuff and day-to-day life.”

Mike Vaccaro is probably the all-time contribution leader to this Substack. It’s because he’s a great journalist who digs the engagement and loves the trade.

It’s also because he’s a magnificent story teller.

So I’m gonna let him tell one …

“I was 19 and a freshman as St. Bonaventure and on a whim I wrote Mike Lupica at the Daily News,” Vaccaro says. “I was embarrassingly fawning (though I probably didn’t think so at the time). A few weeks later I was home for summer and, remarkably, there was a letter in my parents’ mailbox from … Mike Lupica. And it was beyond-belief generous: not just encouraging, but offering practical advice (example: he said the greatest lesson of his writing life was advice he got from Red Smith about descriptive writing. ‘Always let them smell the cabbage cooking.’ I’ve only relayed that to about a thousand young writers in the years since). And it was two full pages.

“Now think about this: this was the summer of 1986. He took the time to put paper in a typewriter, write 600 or so words, edit it (which he did with classic copy-editing edits), stuff it in an envelope, stamp it, and mail it. And I assume I wasn’t the only aspiring sportswriter with whom he was that kind. He encouraged me to send him columns from the student newspaper. I did. Invariably he wrote back with thoughtful and sometimes critical reaction. Honestly, that changed my life. Not only was he genuinely helpful, but I vowed I would never, ever not return the favor going forward if a kid like me reached out (and, honestly, while I’ve tried to honor that 100 percent of the time it’s also, what, a thousand percent easier to do it now with a return email). It also emboldened me. A few years later I was covering an Atlantic 10 tournament game at the Palestra and found myself sitting next to John Feinstein.  For the next two hours he talked and I listened and I asked questions and he patiently answered them and 35 years later John is a good friend and laughs when I also call him a ‘mentor,’ but he also knows it’s true.”

I looooove that story. First, because it puts Lupica (a peer whose sour approach to other journalists has long bothered me) in a positive light. But second, because it speaks to the power of the golden outreach. Just as I’ve received letters like the one near the top of this entry (that tend to wind up going nowhere), I’ve also received outreach from young journalists resulting in beautiful friendships. About a decade ago a young Mirin Fader asked if I’d ever consider talking to her about journalism. She arrived with a notepad and pens—and is now a close pal. Oh, forever years ago Yaron Weitzman was a high school kid in New Rochelle, N.Y. who asked for some career wisdom. We met at the nearby Cosi, and have been tight ever since.

And the secret truth is, most journalists love being approached for advice. We really do. It’s flattering. It feels good. To work in this field is to have an ego, and being valued rubs the ego like a dog’s underbelly. Also, not for nothing, just because we’re old and you’re young doesn’t mean we can’t pick up some helpful nuggets. As Chris Stone, the Los Angeles Times’ deputy managing editor, told me, “Media has changed so much and changes so quickly, we probably want to learn, and will learn, something from you. It can be a two-way conversation.”

One last important tip: Be patient.

Too often, a young journalist reaches out to an older journalist, and the older journalist has shit on their plate. Writing. Researching. Family. Eating. The Gary Coleman movie marathon. Farting in the bathtub. Running with the bulls.

Stuff.

They do not exist to reply immediately to your outreach.

So … relax.

“I need patience,” says Teresa Walker of the Associated Press, “because I’m balancing 14 plates at any given time.”

The last thing you want to do is nag, bug, irk, harass. I think back to a young journalist who hit me up via Twitter DM several years ago. This kid had talent and oomph, but he would … not … stop. A constant stream of DMs. Links to every story in the student newspaper. Bragging. Observations. Thoughts. I asked, subtly, that he pull back a bit, but he didn’t read the room. It got to the point where whenever I saw this …

I cringed in annoyance.

Ultimately, after far too many warnings, I blocked the kid.

I believe Dale Carnegie would have understood.

The Quaz Five with … Marc Boerigter

Marc Boerigter played eight years as an NFL and CFL wide receiver. He now covers Northwest Texas football for Hudl. You can follow him on Xitter here.

1. Marc, there's a lot of cold-weather football being played right now. You played in some serious cold. What is it like to be running routes in 3 degrees?: Im not sure that I ever played in a game quite that cold, But i have played in some really cold games. I can tell you that it is truly mental. You try to find some tricks to stay warm, but it really just comes down to tricking your mind. It hurts to move, the ball feels like a rock and it hurts to get hit.

2. You handle Northwest Texas football for Hudl. What does that entail? What are the responsibilities?: I cover about 240 high schools from the Dallas area all the way out to Lubbock and Amarillo in a sales role for Hudl. A large area of Texas. At Hudl, we are changing the way that coaches and athletes are capturing video and reviewing data. It is a great fit for me being able to connect with coaches of all sports and athletic directors. It really is amazing all of the things we are doing and what we have created that has changed the way all coaches and athletes have access to technology wise.

3. You played in the NFL and CFL? How big of a different, talent-wise, was there? Like, on its best possible day, could the best Canadian team beat the worst NFL team?: There is talent in the CFL that could certainly play in the NFL. It is all about the opportunity, though. The biggest difference I saw and still see is the "prototypical" size for certain positions preferred in the NFL is the reason a lot of the guys are in the CFL. The game obviously is different in both leagues, so I won’t put myself in a position to say whether the best CFL team could beat the worst NFL team. It would depend what rules we are playing under.

4. What does a concussion feel like? If you were to describe it in the most vivid terms?: I don't remember …

I have had a few "documented" concussions in my day. I can tell you this, you can feel nauseous, disoriented, foggy, sluggish and sensitive to light and noise. Most of these symptoms stay for quite a while, which is the scary part.

5. This is totally random, but one of your quarterbacks with the Chiefs was Trent Green. And there's a parallel universe where he never gets hurt with the Rams and we never sniff Kurt Warner. I'm interested: Fully healthy, how good was Green? What could he have been?: Trent Green had an interesting career before the injury. Drafted by San Diego in a round that no longer exists, spent a few weeks in Canada, then with Washington and to St. Louis. Who knows what would have happened in the Lou for him if not for that preseason game injury. I will say this. I loved him as my QB. Is still majorly underrated as a QB. Smart, tough, great arm and a hell of a leader, as well as a guy who threw for more than 4,000 yards three times in his career.

Bonus (rank in order—favorite to least): Mac Miller, Omar Easy, wall calendars, brie, Packer helmets, midday naps on a hammock, Rod Carew, Sydney Sweeney, Tickle Me Elmo: Packer helmets, Omar Easy (Because without his false start, I only get 98 yards and no NFL record), Rod Carew, midday naps on a hammock (by a lake), Brie, Syndey Sweeney, Mac Miller, wall calendars, Tickle Me Elmo.

Ask Jeff Pearlman a fucking question(s)

From Ed: Why do journalists (mostly men) writing about athletes (mostly men) default to “got emotional”?   My theory is that in the manly/macho/testosterone world of sports, media don’t want to say “he cried.”  Too soft. But why not?  “Emotional” seems to be both a crutch and a shield, allowing a reporter protection from having to deal with genuine human feelings. Do women reports have a different POV on this?: What a fascinating question. The short answer: I don’t know. The longer answer: Sometimes we get lazy in this business—usually without being aware as it happens. You’re right, Ed. “Get emotional” doesn’t mean anything. It’s poor writing mixed with vague sentiment. But I’m sure I’ve used it when I’m, I dunno, lacking the words to make my writing shine.

In conclusion: It’s not good. But we’re only human.

A random old article worth revisiting …

One never knows when greatness will arrive, but for the football universe (and, really, for America as a nation), it happened on Oct. 19, 1981, when Utah State’s Eric Hipple stepped in at quarterback for the Detroit Lions and played his ass off. The rest, as Hipple Nation knows, is history. And it was chronicled by the Associated Press on Oct. 20, 1981 …

The Madness of Tyler Kepner’s Grid …

So unless you’ve been living beneath a pebble beneath a rock beneath a big hunk of cheese, you’re aware of Immaculate Grid, the daily game that’s drawn thousands of nerdy sports fans (guilty!) to its ranks. And while the NBA grid, NFL grid, NHL grid and WNBA grid are all fun, this game is at its best when it comes to baseball—where the names are endless and the transactions ceaseless.

Over the past few weeks I’ve often discussed the grid with Tyler Kepner, the Athletic baseball writer. And now, for kicks, every week I’m gonna feature one of Tyler’s bonkers grid results. He’s the ultimate baseball geek (I say this with great affection), and his outputs blow my mind.

So …

Tyler thoughts:

• Joe Boever (“Boever The Saver”) was a guy the Phillies acquired from Atlanta. I know he was a Cardinal because you can see his jersey in the crowd around Ozzie Smith in the clip of his walk-off HR in the 1985 NLCS, which they show all the time at Busch Stadium.

• Jeff Parrett was a pretty good Phillies reliever who was traded to the Braves in the Dale Murphy deal.

• Gene Mauch was a very famous manager, of course, and I recently noticed that he played for 6 teams. So I figured I’d memorize them.

• Dick Allen: He was a slugger wherever he went, and he ripped through 4 teams in 4 years in the middle of his career, including the Cardinals. That was 50+ years ago now, so it was reasonable to expect a low number there.

• Ricky Jordan: I was in the stands for his debut in 1988, when he homered off Nolan Ryan. He showed just enough power and promise for the Phillies to pass on a lumbering college first baseman named Frank Thomas at the top of the 1989 draft.

• Keith Moreland: Another ex-Phillie who had some pop with the Cubs in the 80s. But Moreland was a regular on the memorable 1984 Cubs, so I should have gone with someone more obscure from the 90s, like one-season wonders Rick Wilkins or Derrick May.

• Bob Tewksbury is a guy I’ve gotten to know pretty well over the years; he’s been a mental-skills coach for several teams. I remember him giving up some runs in the 1992 ASG in San Diego.

• Dick Ruthven was a 17-game winner for the 1980 Phillies, and Dallas Green picked him for the All-Star team the next year.

• Jerry Morales is in a well-circulated NL team photo from the 1977 All-Star Game at Yankee Stadium. His light blue jersey is part of a festival of bright colors in that pic.

This week’s college writer you should follow on Linkedin …

Brandon Peterson, Howard University

A junior studying business at the Washington, D.C.-based HBCU, Peterson’s latest Hilltop piece, COLLEGE ATHLETICS COULD BE THE NEXT BIG INVESTMENT TREND, is a smart, savvy look at the changing dynamic of amateur sports economics.

Writes Brandon: “To indicate what further investment in Howard athletics could do for the university, she gave a comparison to how the hype of the University of Colorado Boulder Football program affected that school. Alston said ‘They were interviewing students and seeing that there was much more school spirit… Everyone was excited and proud to be representing their school.’

“In recent years, Howard has received funding for their athletic programs and facilities. In 2022, Nuna Baby Essentials Inc. pledged $1 million to remodel the gym, adding offices and locker rooms to that list of upgrades in the near future. To jumpstart Howard’s golf program, NBA superstar Stephen Curry donated $6 million over 6 years to get the team competing again for the first time in 50 years.”   

One can follow Brandon on Linkedin here. Bravo.

Journalism musings for the week …

Musing 1: This obviously warrants a longer offering, but I just learned that Sports Illustrated is apparently getting rid of … everyone. And while my anger is intense, and my frustration is bursting from my skull, my number one emotion is—sadness. Yes, for the magazine I truly loved, but mainly for the people who make up the staff and deserve far better. This is a darker-than-dark day.

Musing 2: The other day my daughter, a college junior, told me her place of employment is thinking of discontinuing sales of Coca-Cola products because of the company’s investments. Which led me to ask: “Do you know what Pepsi invests in?” And that’s sorta how I feel after reading SUBSTACK WANTED TO BE NEUTRAL. ITS TOLERANCE OF NAZIS PROVED DIVISIVE from Will Oremus and Taylor Lorenz of the Washington Post. Should I move this newsletter elsewhere? And if so, do I need to investigate that platform, too? It just all gets exhausting.

Musing 3: I know I’m becoming a grumpy old person who smells of mothballs and cider, but I am really angry with Sarafina Chitika, national press secretary for the DNC and a young woman who really needs to think before she Tweets. In case you missed this, after Asa Hutchinson quietly bowed out of the Republican Presidential primary, the DNC (aka: Chitika) posted this on Twitter …

And along with being classless, it’s just brutally tone-deaf politics. You don’t beat Trump by acting like Trump. You don’t pick up Hutchinson supporters by bashing the man. Also, not for nothing, Asa Hutchinson is a decent guy who never shied away from taking on the orange grifter. This was juvenile, classless bullshit from a hack amateur trying to swim with the big fish.

Musing 4: We all make mistakes, but the reporter asking Bucs coach Todd Bowles how he’ll prepare his team for the frigid Detroit conditions … it’s a rough one. I feel for the journalist.

Musing 5: I gobbled up every word of this terrific John Feinstein column, FROM HARVARD TO HOWARD: HE’S THE RARE COLLEGE HOOPS EIGHTH-YEAR SENIOR. It concerns Seth Towns’ fascinating journey from Harvard to Ohio State to Howard, and myriad points in between. Wrote Feinstein: “Towns isn’t sure what he’ll do after basketball, but he intends to follow the guidance of one of his favorite writers, Ralph Waldo Emerson, Harvard Class of 1821: ‘Do not go where the path may lead. Go instead where there is no path and leave a trail.’ He’s well on his way.”

Musing 6: Really interesting piece from MLB.com’s Matt Monagan on the coldest baseball run of all time. Writes Monagan in MINUS 50-DEGREES? THE COLDEST WINTER LEAGUE YOU’VE NEVER HEARD OF: “Back in 1894, North American whaling crews -- marooned up near the Yukon Territory's Herschel Island in Pauline Cove, awaiting the ice to thaw out so they could get back out on the sea -- started up the world's coldest baseball league. A way to keep them from fighting each other, drinking too much and, well, simply being bored out of their minds.”

Musing 7: Not sure I’ve ever heard two commentators go off on one another as Ian Eagle and Mike Fratello do here during a dull Nets loss to Boston. To their credit, it’s entertaining.

Musing 8: Sometimes we become so obsessed and impressed with brand names that we forget some of the best writers walking the earth practice their craft in relative silence. Put different: I came upon the blog of someone named Luther M. Siler—and his review of Jonathan Eig’s “MLK: A Life” is pure butter.

Musing 9: Late to this, but what an amazing piece of writing/reporting from the New York Times’ Ellen Barry. Trust me—read THE ORPHANS OF FLIGHT 723.

Musing 10: Charles Barkley is just the best of the best of the best of the best.

Musing 11: The new Two Writers Slinging Yang stars Michael Farber, my former Sports Illustrated colleague and one of the all-time elite hockey scribes …

Quote of the Week

1. I hate, hate, hate “Mr. Pearlman.”