The Yang Slinger: Vol. XCII:

Ten things I've done that changed the course of my journalism career (a self-indulgent-yet-sincere effort at explaining the importance of never settling)

Jan 31, 2025

Earlier this week, I posted the 400th episode of my podcast, Two Writers Slinging Yang.

The show debuted way back in 2017, and for the life of me I can’t remember the exact motivation for jumping into such an endeavor. I mean, I’ve always loved chatting with other journalists, and I was becoming a pretty big fan of the podcast as a broad medium. So, well, I naively went for it. And if you listen to that opening episode with the great Howard Bryant … eh, it’s not the best. Clunky. Bad sound quality. Horrible intro. On and on. I was using a software called Bumpers, which no longer exists (To date myself: Both parties had to download the app, register, test it, etc). I had no real idea what I was doing. Fuck, this was my early logo …

[If you’re wondering, that’s (left to right) Peter Nesbitt, Tom Jacobellis and Chris Supa from my high school yearbook. Why was that the selected image? I legitimately dunno.]

Regardless, I birthed a podcast that lasted far longer than most podcasts probably last.

And last night, I started thinking about career sustainability, and little things going a long way. Not money makers, necessarily, but those minute decisions that make the difference in journalistic survival vs. extinction.

Hence, this (admittedly) self-indulgent post. I wanted to break down 10 moves that changed my career, and allowed me to last longer than I (someone of pedestrian abilities) probably should have. Hopefully, for someone out there it serves as a spark. As a motivation. As a … something.

Here you go …

• I applied for the NBA Draft as an underclassman: This was 1993. I was a University of Delaware junior and sports editor of the student newspaper, The Review. One year earlier, an editor named Alain Nana-Sinkam (who had a cup of coffee as a swingman with the Blue Hens men’s basketball team) mentioned that someone who didn’t play college hoops should try and apply early for the NBA Draft. Just on a lark. As a goof. Well, Alain graduated, I returned. And I thought, “Hmm …”

So I wrote a letter to the NBA, making official my intention to leave college early for a shot at the League. I explained that I was a junior forward at Delaware (not entirely untrue—I was a starter for Edna’s Edibles, intramural runner-ups) and that I believed I was ready for the next step. A few weeks later, I returned to my apartment to an excited greeting from a roommate named Paul. “Pearl!” he said. “You got a letter from the NBA!”

I opened it, and—magic. A note, signed by David Stern (I believe), accepting my early entry. A month or so after that, the NBA’s head of security called my home, asking—in fairly blunt terms—“Who the fuck are you?”

“Well,” I explained, “I’m a guy who thinks he can make the NBA his home …”

I wrote a piece for the student newspaper about the experience, and sorta figured that was that. Well, in 1995 I was trying to land a gig at my dream destination, Sports Illustrated. At the time I was a features writer at The Tennessean in Nashville, and the SI power brokers suggested I pitch some ideas to the magazine. A freelance trial.

I pitched a local swimmer. No.

I pitched a Vanderbilt basketball coach. No.

I told them I once applied early for the NBA Draft.

The piece ran in the June 10, 1996 issue—featuring Gary Payton on the cover and this motherfucking bad boy inside …

Three months later, the magazine hired me.

• I snuck into a newspaper(s) office: Around the same time I was applying for the NBA Draft, I learned there would be a college newspaper conference/job fair inside the offices of the Philadelphia Daily News/Inquirer, rival newspapers that shared a building.

A handful of students from Delaware attended, most of whom (I’m assuming) wanted to go to various seminars on lede writing, on transitions, on covering business, etc. Two of us had a different plan.

Doug Donovan, editor of The Review in 1992-93, was a crafty dude who always understood the need to think outside the box. That’s probably one of the reasons why, five years ago, he won a Pulitzer with the Baltimore Sun. He was also fearless, creative, funky. Hence, as all the other conference attendees milled about in the newspaper lobby (home to the conference), Doug and I—armed with stacks of resumes and clips, as well as a bunch of Post-It Notes—snuck through an emergency exit, climbed the steps and entered the (largely empty) offices of both papers. We literally walked desk to desk, trying to figure out which ones belonged to VIPs. Then we’d plop down our resumes/clips and write, on a Post-It, THIS KID SEEMS TO HAVE A LOT OF TALENT. WORTH CHECKING OUT. We’d sign it in indecipherable penmanship with some made-up name.

And, no, I was never hired by either paper. But the seed was planted in a big way. Take risks. Go for broke. Sneak around. Slide through. Jump over. Move quietly, but with purpose.

Just fucking do it.

• I applied for 150 internships: Following my sophomore year at Delaware, I was … a nobody. I mean, most college sophomores are nobodies. But, journalistically, you were more of a nobody attending UD than, say, Princeton or Northwestern.

That said, I knew I wanted a summer internship. One that, if possible, would put me in a unique place.

This was back in the day when you applied for these positions via paper and pen, so I tracked down a book (the clunky Editor and Publisher guide) that listed every newspaper in the country. And, one by one, I wrote cover letters. The skeleton was always the same (Dear TK EDITOR: My name is Jeff Pearlman. I’m a soon-to-be University of Delaware junior and assistant sports editor of the student newspaper. And I would love the opportunity to spend my summer interning at the TK NEWSPAPER. Although I do not live near TK NEWSPAPER, I am well aware of the quality you bring to local news and sports coverage) and, yes, it was pretty ridiculous. But I’d sit there, in my spare time, writing one, writing two, writing 12; using the student newspaper copy machine until it started to bleed out.

I wound up applying for 150 internships.

I was offered one.

All I needed was one.

I spent that summer covering sports for the Champaign-Urbana News-Gazette. It paid $5 an hour. My dad drove me out and left me with the run-down Chevy. I broke my ankle, had no friends and was absolutely miserable.

I compiled 50 clips and left with the experience I desperately needed.

• My cover letter: I first knew I wanted to write for Sports Illustrated when I was a high school kid. It wasn’t merely a dream. It was The Dream. So, after two years in Nashville as a Tennessean staffer, I decided it was time to go for it. But … how to go for it? How to get the attention of editors and decision-makers who surely receive hundreds of annual applications?

This is what I did: My dad, the late Stanley Pearlman, worked as an executive recruiter, and throughout my youth he stressed the importance of making cover letters count. So, eh, I made mine count. I went to great lengths to design it (physically) to look exactly like the LETTER FROM THE EDITOR feature that used to appear in the front of SI (this would be a note from the editor, explaining a story or writer or something). And my letter, dated 2005, began: “When we first learned of Jeff Pearlman 10 years ago, he was an anonymous features writer for The (Nashville) Tennessean with little to brag about, career-wise. But here we are, a decade later, and Jeff’s later cover story for the magazine …”

Later, after being hired, I was told it was my letter that separated me from the pile.

Thanks, Dad.

• I left Sports Illustrated while I loved Sports Illustrated: The first time I knew I had to make a career change came during the 2001 World Series between the Diamondbacks and Yankees in New York. It was (what would wind up being an epic) Game 4, and my stomach was killing me. I wasn’t writing on deadline, so I told Tom Verducci I was taking off—and I headed to my girlfriend’s apartment (we’re now married). That night I sat on the couch, farting away, so insanely happy not to be at Yankee Stadium. My girlfriend’s apartment was warm. The couch was comfortable. There would be no post-game media stampede, no cliched answers from Derek Jeter or Matt Williams, no smelly press box.

And it hit me: If you’d rather not be at an all-time great World Series game, maybe it’s time to do something else.

So … a year or so later, I left. I took a job at Newsday, the New York newspaper, roaming the city and writing about interesting people. And it was great. Lovely. Fun. Refreshing. It renewed my passion; reminded me that my true love is talking to interesting folks, not just athletes. It also reminded me that dreams change, and sometimes chasing a goal isn’t the same as reaching a goal.

Also, I didn’t wanna be the guy working for 30 years at the same place. I knew I’d regret that. So—against the advice of most everyone—I left my dream destination …

… and found renewed purpose.

• I wrote a book: I never thought about writing books. Truly, never ever ever. But then Jon Wertheim, my SI pal, penned “Venus Envy” about women’s tennis. And it seemed sorta fun. Maybe? Possibly? And, shortly thereafter, a literally agent named Susan Reed called, said, “How do you feel about writing books?”

“I dunno.”

“How do you feel about the 1986 New York Mets?”

“I love them.”

“That could be a good book, no?”

So I went for it. I think I made $100,000—which sounds like a lot more than it was (books take two years, require an author to buy all the images and 15 percent goes to the agent). I didn’t know what I was doing, but Wertheim advised me to think of every chapter as a long SI feature. OK, sounds good.

I still remember my agent calling—”You’ve made the New York Times list, man!”

Whhhhaaaaaaaaat?

I was hooked on this book thing.

• I created my own Wikipedia page: This might be the first time I’ve ever admitted this—but, fuck it. What am I hiding things for? The year was, oh, around 2004. Wikipedia was new, and I’d never heard of it. A friend introduced me, said, “It’s like a digital encyclopedia.”

Oh. “Can you make your own page?” I asked.

He didn’t know. So I tried it. Ego? Sorta. Creativity? Maybe. Mainly, I was just curious how it worked. So I made a base-level JEFF PEARLMAN Wikipedia page.

And you’re likely thinking, “So?”

And you’re likely thinking, “Big deal.”

And you’re likely thinking, “Get over yourself.”

But that Wikipedia page—which has expanded (without me, I swear) gave me all sorts of weird credibility. With athletes (“Bro, you have a Wikipedia page”), with colleagues (“You’re on Wikipedia!”), with publishing houses, with potential subjects. In fact, I’d say the two items that have helped me most—rep-wise—are the Wikipedia page and having been (a very, very, very, very, very bad) Division I cross country and track runner at Delaware. Why? Because of what both things say without me having to delve into specifics. They solidify you. They provide you footing.

Again, it’s bonkers. But … I’ll roll with it.

• My Twitter blue check: Another big one for me. This dates back, I dunno, six years, before Elon Musk turned Twitter into grinder for small-dicked MAGA men seeking toothless lovers. At the time, a blue check was social media’s Black American Express card. That’s not an exaggeration. It showed you were important. Authentic. Mattered. Blue-checked Twitter accounts meant you walked with a gravitas and smelled of roses and pecans.

I wanted one.

I didn’t have one.

But then … a gift. Someone started a fake account with the tagline: JEFF PEARLMAN IS A CACKLING DOUCHE and my photo as the featured image. I immediately contacted Twitter and said this horrible person is impersonating me and I feel violated.

“Would you like a blue check?”

“Well, sure.”

I can’t tell you how helpful it was, mainly in regards to reaching necessary sources who resided on Twitter. Suddenly, athletes were hitting me back. Coaches and executives, too.

It was, again, the Black AmEx..

[Thanks, Elon. For fucking it all up]

• Tik Tok: I’ve told this story before, so I’ll keep it super brief. Early last year, an editor with The Defector named Tom Ley wrote a column sorta mocking me for being an old piece of moldy leather trying to offer advice to young journalists. The paragraph that really got to me was this: “Pearlman left Sports Illustrated in 2002, and has focused on writing books (and turning them into TV shows) ever since. What comes through in his advice, even as he trumpets the importance of utilizing newfangled platforms like TikTok and Instagram and Substack, is how thoroughly dated his understanding of the industry is.”

I can’t overstate how angry it made me. But it also motivated me. So, fuck it—I joined TikTok. Because … I dunno. I wanted to see how it’d go, and what I was missing, and whether Ley was correct.. My son Emmett made me promise, “No filters.” Fine. He also urged me to avoid politics. I’ve struggled with that a wee bit. But, as of this writing, I have 225,3000 followers. And, NGL (as the kiddos say)—that’s what’s up (also what the kiddos say). It’s been redemptive and reinvigorating and … and …

Career-changing.

Truly, career changing.

Thanks to TikTok, I’ve had freelance pieces assigned. I’ve had multiple offers for projects on different platforms (My YouTube show debuts in March—not joking). I’ve sold an absolute shitload of books to people who, pre-@jeffpearlmanauthor, knew not of my existence. I’ve learned to embrace video storytelling in ways I never thought possible, and I’ve uncovered a legitimately tremendous way to promote my upcoming book, “Only God Can Judge Me: The Many Lives of Tupac Shakur.”

So, big props to Tom Ley.

[Who, weirdly, isn’t on TikTok.]

Two Writers Slinging Yang: I’m an adjunct journalism professor at Chapman University out here in Southern California, and one of the things I often tell students who aspire to enter journalism is, “Start a fucking podcast.”

Why? A. Because it’s cheap/free. B. Because it’s tremendous resume fodder that screams, “This dude is ambitious!” C. Because it’s tremendous resume fodder that also screams, “This dude knows modern technology!” D. Because it puts your name out there. E. Because it allows you to meet all sorts of people.

I have never made a penny off of “Two Writers Slinging Yang.” Not a single cent. For years I had a sponsor, the excellent Royal Retros, but the tradeoff was shirts and jerseys (To be honest, I just thought it sounded cool to have a sponsor, and I enjoyed writing ad spots featuring family members). What the podcast has given me, truly, is a place of relevance. And even if that sounds sad and desperate and pathetic, it’s actually true. Aging in this profession is brutal. “Legend” and “OG” are the phrases uttered just before “Has-been.” The podcast has kept me in the mix; has granted me access to writers of different ilks creating in ways I’d never considered.

Yeah, it’s for free.

But it’s invaluable.

The Quaz Five with … Angelo Gingerelli

Angelo Gingerelli is the Assistant Strength and Conditioning Coordinator at Seton Hall University. He’s also the author of a new book, “The Next Four Years: Compete, Win & Thrive in College Sports,” which can be purchased here.

1. Angelo, so you're the author of "The Next Four Years Compete, Win and Thrive in College Athletics." And I'm gonna be honest—I hate what big-time Division I sports have become. They just feel greedy and gross and lacking any integrity to speak of. Tell me why I'm wrong: A lot of people have a similar opinion on the current situation, but to look back at "the good old days" as "good" for everybody is viewing the past through rose-colored lenses. An element of "team culture" has definitely been lost in certain sports (basketball and football), but the idea of young adults selling out arenas/stadiums, selling merchandise, concessions, parking passes, television advertising, etc. and not being compensated is also antiquated. So, while I agree that college sports have absolutely lost some of the things that made them so appealing for decades, the change was inevitable as revenues for schools/conferences continued to rise and players figured out their place in the equation. With that being said, this current system clearly has some shortcomings and will need to be tweaked and refined until a truly sustainable model is found.

2. How does an incoming college athlete know what's the best program for him? Is NIL money the best indicator? Coaching philosophy? What?: For football and basketball players it's hard to argue that anything other than NIL money should affect their decision. Making six or seven figures before your 20th birthday is a potentially life changing payday. Olympic sport (aka non-revenue) athletes should think long-term and make a decision based on the life/career they want more than the immediate gratification of competing at a high level in college. For example, if a young man or woman is absolutely sure they want to be a dentist, going to a school without a biology program because they like the coaching staff, can play as a freshman or get a few thousand dollars in workout gear is a bad decision.

3. You're the longtime strength and conditioning coach at Seton Hall. How has strength and conditioning—as a philosophy, as a practice—changed in the span from your arrival on campus until now?: The two biggest changes in the last 20 years are in the early 2000s we really focused on the "weight room" and ignored so many other factors necessary to optimize performance. Things like mental health, nutrition, hydration and sleep were barely addressed at all and now they are a big part of any S&C program. Also, the technology has improved and is much better integrated into everyday training. Force plates, Velocity Tracking Units, GPS and Activity Tracking Wearables have taken the guesswork out of coaching.

4. The transfer portal seems insane—students leaving schools before bowl games and tournaments, coaches poaching rosters, etc. You've been around—how do we fix it?: It's really the wild west right now. If it was up to me, there would be some kind of contract that ties the student-athlete to the school for a certain period of time. Much like in the major professional sports leagues where a player signs a contract for a set number of years and if they want a trade the organization has the contract as a bargaining chip to get another player that can help the team. As to how this works with 300-plus Division 1 colleges—as opposed to a league with about 10 percent of that number of organizations—is well beyond my expertise. We are in an era now where everybody has a platform to explain what should be done or what they would do if they were in charge and that's where I got the idea to write "The Next Four Years" because I'm well aware nobody cares what I think about the current situation, but I can help young athletes and their families navigate the current landscape. It's like going into the wild west with a map.

5. I have two kids who are college students, and the adjustment is certainly a challenge. What advice do you give to families as their children bolt for campuses near and far?: Make decisions based on long-term goals. Be financially responsible ... higher education is insanely expensive and these decisions can impact the rest of your financial life. Do your research on any schools you are seriously considering and visit in person if possible. Before making a decision to transfer, think about how the decision will impact your future life/career and if the things you are actually unhappy about at your current school will really be fixed by transferring.

BONUS (rank in order—favorite to least): Craig Biggio, debit cards, the music of Cher, whitefish salad on a sesame seed bagel, 50 Cent, Clint Eastwood, Cam Ward, P.J. Carlesimo, your right foot, Geno Smith, mashed potatoes: 1. 50 Cent: The G-Unit mixtape era was unmatched; 2. Craig Biggio: Seton Hall legend; 3. My right foot; 4. Whitefish salad on a sesame seed bagel—Lox would have moved this up a few spots; 5. PJ Carlesimo; 6. Cher: "Autotune Cher" is a national treasure, not sure about the older stuff; 7. Clint Eastwood: Solid song by The Gorillaz, but not their best work; 8. Debit cards; 9. Cam Ward: I wish him luck; 10. Geno Smith: Being a Jet fan is tough; 11. Mashed Potatoes: Most overrated carbohydrate. I said what I said.

A random old article worth revisiting …

On July 25, 1986, the Associated Press reported on the upcoming heavyweight fight between Mike Tyson and Marvis Frazier. Both men assured the reporter they were ready. One, eh, was not.

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. No one owns the medium like Tyler Kepner, the Athletic’s fantastic baseball writer.

Here’s a breakdown of one of his recent efforts …

Tyler thoughts:

• Corey Ray: I did a story on him before the draft; he was in a Chicago youth program run by the White Sox. Surprisingly played only one Major League game for Milwaukee.

• Gregg Olson: He finished off a combined no-hitter for Baltimore in 1991. One of the best curveballs ever.

• Kyle Lewis: First-rounder by Seattle who won Rookie of the Year in the Covid season but never built on that momentum.

• Tyler Green: Big Phillies prospect who had a great first half in 1995 and wound up in the All-Star Game in Texas

• Kevin Gross: Man, I probably saw more games of his than any other pitcher growing up. Workhorse of the Phillies in the 1980s. Made the All-Star team for them in Cincinnati in 1988 and later threw a no-hitter for LA.

• Pat Zachry: He was a co-Rookie of the Year for the Reds in 1976, then traded to the Mets the next summer in the Seaver deal. Made the All-Star team the next season in San Diego.

• Ryan Radmanovich: Covered him at the end of the 1998 season in Seattle.

• John Ward: Threw the second perfect game in baseball history in 1880 and also played outfield. I'd just read about him the day before this Grid, luckily.

• Bake McBride: The right fielder for the Phillies' World Series title team in 1980, he's remembered well for his hair and his name—less so for his Rookie of the Year with the Cardinals.

This week’s college writer you should know about …

Cirenity Williams, Goshen College freshman

A contributing writer to The Record, Williams wrote a lovely piece headlined, THE JAVA JUNCTION THERAPIST. In this feisty, agitated age where so many people find hostility, it was refreshing to read the words of a student looking to help her peers.

Wrote Williams: “Being on that purple couch in the Connector has shaped my life in a way I wouldn’t have seen coming. It has made me see even the smallest things that most wouldn’t notice, like the different types of music the Java Junction workers like to listen to, or how different a person could look with or without their glasses. It has even made me notice the different hair colors that one girl dyes her hair. This purple couch has even made me observe myself in the things that I do and what I have changed about myself since coming to GC. Never in a million years would I have thought I would be thanking a purple couch but today I am. It really shows that the connector brings people together in all kinds of ways.”

One can follow Cirenity on the school journalism page here.

Bravo.

My TikTok offering of the week …

So I left Twitter, joined TikTok—and am loving, loving, loving the storytelling modus. It’s fun and light and free of the Twitter hate. You can follow me here, and every week (at least until the medium is banned in America) I’m gonna post one of my videos. Just, because, hey—a guy needs to eat.

@jeffpearlmanauthor I am haunted by the final meal I ever had with my Grandma Marta. (Don’t make my mistake)

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Journalism musings for the week …

Musing 1: When someone told me ESPN.com ran a piece headlined BETTING FOR BEGINNERS: FINDING VALUE OUT OF THE THOUSANDS OF SUPER BOWL PROPS, I thought he was joking. But … no. A sports media company that operates its own gambling ring devoted much space to an instructional guide on how to blow your money via addictive behavior. I don’t know Kevin Pulsifer, the writer, but I sure hope he’s getting paid well. Because this is a low.

Musing 2: Sports Illustrated’s excellent Pat Forde breaks down a federal investigation into suspicious sports gambling within the NBA and college basketball. And, well, I’m shocked! Shocked! As we, as a people, become increasingly greedy and less interested in morals and addicted to the action … eh, this shit was bound to happen.

Musing 3: David E. Sanger of the New York Times published an article, TRUMP BLAMES D.E.I. AND BIDEN FOR CRASH UNDER HIS WATCH—and it got me thinking: It must suck right not to be Sanger, or any other person covering the White House, and having to take the orange buffoon seriously.

This, alone, is breathtaking in its stupidity.

Oh, and not for nothing—Trump was lying about the whole thing. Nod to Glenn Kessler of the Washington Post.

Musing 4: Props to Rolling Stone editors for calling Trump’s nonsense what it really is with the headline, TRUMP AND ALLIES DEFAULT TO RACIST EXPLANATION OF DEADLY AIR COLLISION.

Musing 5: If you’re not frustrated by America right now, you’re not paying attention. Which probably explains your positive mental health.

Musing 6: I will never, ever forgive my pal Michael J. Lewis for directing me to the article, TERRIFYING MOMENT SURGEON PERFORMS LIVE VASECTOMY ON HIMSELF WHILE BEING FULLY CONSCIOUS. Written by Callum Jones of Unilad.com, it tells the story of Dr Chen Weinong, who posted the video of his getting the procedure to Instagram and Facebook for “educational purposes.” As my high school history teacher used to say, I mourn for the future.

Musing 7: NBA All-Star reserves were announced, and I’m genuinely happy for Detroit’s Cade Cunningham, a gentlemanly guy who has endured so much in his early career. I look forward to seeing him in the (inevitable) 190-175 game. Or whatever the league has cooked up for us.

Musing 8: Very nice reporting from ESPN’s Jorge Castillo in, BETTER THAN 2024? WHY POST-JUAN SOTO YANKEES SAY THEY ARE. Wrote Castillo: “At the time of the trade for Bellinger, the Yankees were still shopping for a first baseman. They never had interest in signing Pete Alonso, sources said. Christian Walker could have been a fit, but the Yankees decided they didn't want to pay the penalty for signing a player who was given the qualifying offer. The Yankees engaged in discussions with the Cleveland Guardians on Josh Naylor, but the two sides couldn't come to a resolution, according to a source, before Naylor was traded to the Arizona Diamondbacks.”

Musing 9: Disturbing, interesting Talking Point Memo from Jim Marshall in WHITE HOUSE SAYS WE WERE OUT OF THE LOOP—ON EVERYTHING.

Musing 10: Catherine Rampell of the Washington Post is a superstar, unafraid to call out bullshit while doing so both pointedly and artistically. Need proof? Here’s A NEW ERA OF GOVERNMENT CENSORSHIP HAS DAWNED. Writes Rampell: