Thursday, May 1st, 2008...5:42 pm
Costas on Blogs
We all know that I’m not much for linking here — just because I’m too lazy to do the work — but my comrade Aaron Barnhart has a terrific interview up with Bob Costas on the Bissinger screed and his own thoughts about blogs. It’s really good stuff.
And, quickly, I have to tell you my Bob Costas story. I believe I put a version of this up on my last blog, but let’s do it again. So I was like 21 years old, and I was working as an agate clerk for The Charlotte Observer. Agate clerks, at least in those days, were the people who coded up the standings and boxscores and typed in various other types of statistical information, such as high school track meet results. Needless to say, I was terrible at this, legendarily bad, I believe the paper gives out an Agate Plaque of Disgrace in my honor.
The problem, as you will no doubt understand, is that I wanted to be writing, and so I would spend pretty much all my time writing long and rambling blog posts, but this was long before Al gave us the Internet, long before Drudge gave us the blog, and so basically those long and rambling blog posts were officially known as “complete wastes of time.” I constantly badgered editors for the chance to write actual stories in the actual newspaper, and they constantly told me that the hockey standings were all screwed up, and so it was in the year of 1987.
In early 1988, I got word that Bob Costas was bringing a celebrity baseball team down to Salisbury, N.C. to play a game against the local college. The baseball team really had a lot of pretty good celebrities — I remember Jim Valvano was on the team, Robert Klein, Chris Elliot, Gymkata star Kurt Thomas (or some other male gymnast, I can’t remember) and others. Also, word was that Mickey Mantle AND Willie Mays would play in the game. It was the biggest thing to his Salisbury since, um, steak.
And, I have to be completely honest. I was DYING to write about it. Why? Was it because I liked Kurt Thomas? Reasonable guess, but no. Was it because I got a big kick out of Robert Klein’s comedy? I did, yes, but no, that’s not it. Was it the opportunity to see two of the greatest players in baseball history, Mantle and Mays, playing again? That should be the reason. But no.
The reason: I was an overly enthusiastic Bob Costas fan.
Well, hey, I’m not going to lie to you people. I loved Costas. Loved him. He was an inspiration to me. And why not? Smart. Funny. Thoughtful. Awesome on baseball. All my life, I have chosen my heroes based on one simple theme: They are the person I would like to be. That’s why I chose Duane Kuiper as a hero, why I chose Brian Sipe and Ozzie Newsome and Mark Price and so on. They were great, and they were also within reach somehow. When I was 21 years old, I wanted to be Bob Costas — and it’s funny, I didn’t want to be Costas on TV or radio. I just wanted to be him.
So I begged and pleaded for a chance to write about this celebrity game, and after much taunting (“I just don’t think you’re quite ready for this assignment,”) they gave me that chance, in large part because, I’m sure, nobody else wanted to drive to Salisbury for an exhibition game of celebrities. I didn’t care why. I showed up hours and hours before the game, and I went to the hotel, a Holiday Inn, and I remember this because I stopped for directions, and the guy told me, “Yeah, that’s on Holiday Inn Road.” And it was. Nobody was there when I arrived, of course, but the guy at the front desk said everyone would arrive in a while.
I sat. I waited. I was so excited. This was it, my first big-time assignment, my first big moment as a sports writer, and soon the celebrities began to arrive. Costas may have been the first … I know he was early. I nervously approached him, told him who I was and what I was doing … and he could not possibly have been nicer. He was everything I could ever have hoped. He talked to me for a long time, invited me into the room where all the celebrities were hanging out (I remember Robert Klein was doing a Babe Ruth impression, and Jim Valvano was telling jokes; it was pretty cool, really). Costas was so great. He had lived up to everything I could ever have hoped.
Then the game began. And Costas turned to me and said, “Hey, if you want to write what this is like, why don’t you sit on the bench with us?” SIT ON THE BENCH? I sat right next to Mickey Mantle while the game went on (and while angry television reporters stood on the other side of the fence and pointed at me and groaned, “Why is HE on the bench?”) Costas would come over every few minutes to talk, to share some thought, to offer some funny line … it was one of the greatest professional days of my life.
Then I went back to the office and … wow, now I had to write this story. As it turned out, Mays could not make it, and Mantle was too hurt to play, and I was given the impossible task of chronicling this historic event. And … sure, I choked. Well, come on, I was 21, I had just been given a whole day with my hero, and Mickey Mantle, and famous comedians, and I wrote that article like it was War + Peace + Great + Gatsby + Moby + Dick + Hamlet. If I had overwritten that article any more, it would have come to life and strangled everyone within its reach. If I had laced it with anymore purple prose in it, the article would have been Prince. I don’t recall specifically saying in there that this game was roughly more important than World War I, but I’m sure the thought got through. I could not have been more proud of it.
The article appeared on the front page of the sports section the next day, a big moment for me, and people were coming up to congratulate me (if you consider, “Hey, uh, Joe, read your article today” to be congratulations). I was on Cloud 9. That afternoon, I called Costas in Salisbury to thank him for giving me this incredible opportunity. And I remember this, he said, “Oh, yeah, sure, hey, actually, I’d like to talk with you about that article. I can’t right now, I’ve got to go to this dinner, but I will call you next week.” Wow! I mean, hey, I knew Bob Costas wouldn’t really call me, but so what? Just the thought was overwhelming to me.
The next week, Bob Costas called me. I was thrilled. He said hello, and I said hello, and then there was this rather awkward pause. And I said, “Oh yeah, hey, you said you wanted to tell me something about the article.”
The words he said after that are forever seared in my mind. I know them precisely. He said, “Well, I wasn’t going to say anything, but you asked.”
Friends, these are not promising words. You do not begin a compliment with “Well, I wasn’t going to say anything, but you asked.” You do not give someone a raise, or say yes to a marriage proposal or applaud a baseball article after that introduction. No sir. Bob for the next few minutes — I don’t know if it was 3 minutes or 294 — ripped my article. I’m sure it was constructive ripping, I’m sure it was good-hearted ripping, I’m sure it was not intended in any way to shatter the will of a young writer. But I pretty much stopped hearing actual words about 20 seconds in. All I heard in my mind was, “YOU SUCK! YOU SUCK! YOU SUCK! YOU WILL DIE JOBLESS, POOR AND ALONE! AND DID I MENTION THAT YOU SUCK!”
This was, of course, not at all what Bob was saying. He was saying in a very calm and professional way that I had overwritten the story, and tried too hard, and missed the point, all true things looking back as a 41-year-old. But to a 21-year-old listening to his hero, it was pretty much YOU SUCK AND YOU SUCK. When the phone call ended– and that’s the right word, it pretty much just ended — I noticed that everything in the whole world suddenly looked a lot bigger. Either that or I had shrunk to roughly the size of a ballpoint pen.
Well, hell, now what? I mean, you don’t really have anywhere to go as a college kid who has just been told by the most respected man in sports journalism that you suck. I honestly started to think: OK, so what job could I get now? Could I drive an ice cream truck? I could see myself i that job. How do you get that job? Maybe I could sell furniture on lawns in front of strip malls. I had done a little of that, and it was quite lucrative, you know, if anyone bought the furniture, which no one ever did. A few people came up to me and asked me what was wrong … I couldn’t even speak.
So, I did what I always do … I wrote. In this case I wrote a long, long, long letter to Bob Costas. You can only imagine based on this blog, how long it was. I have written before that i hope to never, ever see this letter — Costas could blackmail me for everything I’m worth, though admittedly that would pretty much include my copy of the Bill James Historical Abstract and a (more or less) complete set of Cleveland Indians cards from 1962 to 1990. Probably not worth it.
The letter made the article in question seem tame and detached. I don’t remember much — the human mind does spare us pain — but I do remember that I told him that I wanted to be a successful sportswriter someday, and I needed to write what I saw, and God knows what else. Before I could chicken out, I sent the letter to Costas. When I told a friend what I had done, he called me a few choice names — idiot being the kindest of those.
Life went on. A few months later, the Charlotte Observer hired me in the Rock Hill Bureau (which, by coincidence, is where my friend and fellow columnist Jason Whitlock began). I had more or less forgotten about the letter — the human mind does spare us pain — and I was working when my phone rang. I had a friend pick it up — I was on the phone with a high school volleyball coach, I recall — and he whispered, “It’s Bob Costas.”
I hung up on the volleyball coach, picked up the phone, and it WAS Costas. And he said he got my letter. Man was I ready to get ripped. Only he said, “And that letter told me more about you than 100 articles could. That letter was great. When you’re working at The New York Times, I’m going to tell people I knew you when. That letter is on my refrigerator door.”
. I’ve spoken many times with Costas since then, and I still have the same admiration for him that I did long ago. It might not quite be a hero worship — we do grow out of those things — but I still think he’s as decent and thoughtful a voice as anyone in broadcast journalism. I thought he should have cut off Buzz the other day, but that’s an easy second guess. No one else on TV would have even tried to have that discussion. I think Bob does have his problems with blogs — and some of them are quite understandable — but I also think he sees the bigger picture.
Anywhere, that where the story ends. It was 20 years ago. I’ve had a lot of people help me in my career — both knowingly and unknowingly — but I can tell you making Costas’ refrigerator door … yeah, that was scary. But cool. You know?
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32 Comments
May 1st, 2008 at 7:19 pm
What a great story.
I’m a huge Costas fan as well, and if that happened to me I probably would just die on the spot, because I really wouldn’t have much more to live for afterwards.
At least at the time…
May 1st, 2008 at 7:19 pm
You da best Joe Po, keep em coming.
May 1st, 2008 at 7:26 pm
I got a lump in my throat reading that. What I’m most impressed with is that he a) read your article, b) remembered to call you back a week later and c) took the time to give you a thorough critique.
May 1st, 2008 at 7:38 pm
It’s pretty cool to hear that Costas is as thoughtful in real life as he seems in his broadcasts. He’s always struck me as thoughtful, intelligent, and with an advanced sense of humor. I’ve also hoped he was decent, but didn’t want to be disappointed by hearing otherwise, so I didn’t dare think it. This portrays a very decent person, and that’s encouraging.
May 1st, 2008 at 7:59 pm
dear joe,
nobody tells a story near as well as you do.
i never get tired of em
lisa
May 1st, 2008 at 8:22 pm
I remember nearly 20 years ago seeing Costas at a St. Louis. Bread Co. Like many teenage fans, I introduced myself, telling him I was a big fan. I mentioned in passing that one of his off-air team was a family friend. He was polite and I didn’t linger. Happened to speak to the mutual friend a couple months later and he said, “Costas said he met you at Bread Co.”! Obviously I’m still a big fan of him.
May 1st, 2008 at 9:50 pm
What a story. Man, I used to love Costas Coast to Coast. Then Later. Both are still better than any current radio or TV talk show.
Good interview by Barnhart, too. One disagreement with Costas: I don’t think bloggers have created a straw man here — Bissinger is hardly the first guy to trot out the “mom’s basement” nonsense and all that comes with it. Such luminaries as Marriotti and Conlin blazed that path already.
But I’m over the whole thing. I don’t watch the ESPN talking head shows, listen to talk radio, or read the comment threads on AOL Fanhouse. Easy.
May 1st, 2008 at 10:09 pm
Joe,
As usual great story, but I have to say that I also got my sports section start as an agate clerk — at the Columbia Daily Tribune (thank you, Scott Cain) — and I was brilliant. A natural. I may have had problems with verb-noun agreement back then but I could code agate like Gwynn could hit between third and shortstop.
Somedays, I just miss waxing the box scores into place …
dg
May 2nd, 2008 at 12:20 am
Great story (both times).
Finally saw Costas last night. I felt bad for Leitch (sp?). I certainly understand where Bissinger and to lesser degrees Edwards and Costas were coming from, but it seems like they were looking at things a little too simplistically. Putting the onus on the blog operators for comments in the comments section is a little ridiculous.
I mean, just a few posts ago, I commented about how much I hate Elway. And maybe it was a bit coarse, but that doesn’t make my ridiculous rant your opinion, much like the statements of Rev. Wright are not necessarily the opinions of Sen. Obama (and obviously my connection to you, Joe, is much more tenuous than Obama’s to Wright).
I really expected a little more insight (and, really, basic comprehension of the nature of the blogosphere) from Bissinger than that.
And I, too, was a little shocked that Costas didn’t intervene to spare Will.
May 2nd, 2008 at 1:25 am
I first started listening to Costas on KMOX radio around ‘80 or ‘81, and it’s difficult to reconcile his current image (i.e., Mr. Goody Two Shoes, the curator of Traditional Athletic Values) with his style back in those days. He was provocative, dazzling, iconoclastic. I can still remember someone calling into his show one night with the claim that Clemente was a better ballplayer than Mantle (sound familiar, Joe?), and Costas absolutely DEMOLISHED the guy — methodically, definitively, with a kind of Jamesian logic that was foreign to sports talk radio back then. In a way it was my intro to sabermetrics.
Anyway, I know a number of folks who’ve crossed paths with Costas over the years, and to a person they say he’s an unfailing gentleman, much as you portrayed him, Joe. One quibble, however, with something Costas said in the Aaron Barnhart interview: he claims that blogs are essentially sports talk radio without the bleep button. But I contend that blogs are much easier to bleep than radio. You don’t like a blog, don’t read it. You don’t like a comments thread (and it’s easy to tell when a comments thread is going nowhere), you skip it. It’s all about (if I can use a clumsy word) navigability. That’s sorta the point of blogs, isn’t it?
May 2nd, 2008 at 7:09 am
Classic storytelling. Thanks for sharing this with us.
May 2nd, 2008 at 7:29 am
Joe,
I recently interviewed Bob Wood, author of Dodger Dogs to Fenway Franks, and he says the same thing about Costas as you do. In fact, he said when everyone else was down on his book, including his publisher, Bob Costas and Ernie Harwell were the two guys that helped him out. They understood what his book was about and were willing to make calls and put in a good word for it. I think it says a lot about who Costas is. The mark of someone’s true character is when they are good to people even when they don’t have to be.
May 2nd, 2008 at 7:47 am
Later with Bob Costas = One of the most underappreciated shows ever
It makes no sense to me that nobody has resurrected this format.
Two guys, two chairs, 30 minutes. Perfect end-of-the-night TV.
May 2nd, 2008 at 8:00 am
Costas says a lot of good things in that article, but the straw man thing is a bit of a stretch. Maybe Costas himself should be lumped into the group of MSM that feel like Buzz does about blogs, but the ‘mother’s basement’ type of comments have become regular enough in the MSM that it is disingenuous to argue that the sentiment isn’t pervasive.
Also, I just wanted to join the chorus of those that love the way that Joe tells stories. Brilliant.
May 2nd, 2008 at 8:00 am
Sorry - typo in that comment “maybe Costas himself *should not* be lumped into the group”
May 2nd, 2008 at 8:08 am
What this blog needs is a scan of the Charlotte Observer article. I’m sure there’s a copy somewhere chez Posnanski.
May 2nd, 2008 at 8:33 am
Brian Gunn-
The difference between radio and da web, is that on the radio it’s the content provider who provides the bleeping, whereas with the intraweb, it’s up to the content consumer. And consumers are well known for consuming content they don’t like, then complaining about it. In fact, that’s what a lot of the blogs in question do a lot of the time anyway. I love FJM and read it every day, but they’re going out of their way to be exposed to content they disagree with and find offensive to them, and arguing that some sort of checks should be in place to stop this sort of content from existing. That’s kind of the same thing ol’ Buzzy’s doing, with the main differences being his personal taste and his style of argument.
I guess my point is, if it’s up to the consumer to select their content, they’re bound to complain about the content they don’t like instead of just ignoring it. If the content provider is removing it ahead of time, they’re not in a position to complain. And furthermore, as Costas points out, the fact that Sports Radio bleeps things out dissuades people from acting in that fashion, and prevents shows from degenerating into profane nonsense. Without that same editing from the web-based content providers, profane nonsense can abound.
Seems like the makeup of the content provided can indeed lead people in certain directions, though. Take this comment board, which is generally full of relatively intelligent and polite discussion (with the obvious exception of the threads regarding the profantiy contest, which actually still remained polite, just in a different WAY). I wonder if Joe ever removes rude, profane nonsense from the comments section, and if so, how often he has to do it.
May 2nd, 2008 at 8:52 am
Thanks for this - I’ve always liked Costas but have that whole Gen-X “we’ll eat out heroes before we give them the chance to let us down” thing going…it’s nice to hear how much time he took with a young writer.
May 2nd, 2008 at 9:46 am
“…on the radio it’s the content provider who provides the bleeping, whereas with the intraweb, it’s up to the content consumer. ”
Good point, Drew. I guess all in all, though, I’d prefer to be the one making those choices, and if I’m on some website trolling around in the mud, or I read something idiotic and complain about it afterwards, then that’s on me, not the medium.
What’s more, there’s an element of quality control on blogs that you don’t really get on radio. I used to run a baseball blog myself, and I knew if I said something factually questionable or logically strained or even something rude and out of line, I’d get called on it immediately. Methinks that doesn’t happen as much with Mike & the Mad Dog.
May 2nd, 2008 at 9:48 am
Said it before, and I’ll say it again:
Costas was the BOMB in Pootie Tang
May 2nd, 2008 at 9:53 am
A question for Joe- do you edit or delete posts? Since the discussion here seems measured and mostly polite I would assume so.
May 2nd, 2008 at 10:02 am
I’m too cheap to buy it, but the opening hooked me, Joe…
Charlotte Observer - May 2, 1988 - 1C SPORTS
NOT YOUR AVERAGE GAME NBC`S COSTAS BRINGS BASEBALL, NOSTALGIA TO CATAWBA COLLEGE
Without any stars, a little bit of nostalgia came to Salisbury. They came to watch and play baseball, celebrities and children, college players and legends. A game in a busy grandstand in an old-time park with wooden benches and brick dugouts; a tiny radio booth - maybe big enough to hold three people - behind home plate, and a scoreboard with cardboard numbers in right field. It was NBC sportscaster Bob Costas`s team, the Washington Senators, against Catawba College. On…
>> Purchase complete article, of 1156 words
May 2nd, 2008 at 10:25 am
Will you get an eyejob like he did when you reach his age?
May 2nd, 2008 at 10:43 am
Great story Joe, thanks so much for sharing. This is why I love your blog, and this is why I loved The Soul of Baseball… you tell your stories in a way that always sucks me in. I always feel like you’ve shared a piece of yourself– you’re really very generous with your writing, and I thank you for that.
May 2nd, 2008 at 11:15 am
I too admire Bob Costas. I’ve met him on two occassions — very briefly. Once when he spoke a the University of Missouri back in the early 90s and again 7 years ago or so when he did his book tour. Both occassions I was struck by how human and sincerely nice he was. He’s definitely on the tops of my lists of people I’d love to go have a couple of beers with at a sports bar. I’d actually pay to go listen to you and Bob talk baseball at the sports bar.
Anyway, great story.
May 2nd, 2008 at 1:34 pm
Joe,
Pretty good stuff here, but could you write a little more about it?
May 2nd, 2008 at 7:18 pm
Great story. One of the best sports books I have ever read is “Loose Balls” I think it’s by Terry Pluto. Tells the story of the old American Basketball Association. Some funny Costas stuff in there.
May 2nd, 2008 at 8:59 pm
Joe,
I’m the parent of an aspiring sports writer. She admires you and your work, and after reading this post, I can understand why. Thank you.
May 4th, 2008 at 7:38 pm
Joe,
As usual, a great post.
Costas is my all-time favorite broadcaster. In the late 90s, I’ve had the opportunity to ask Costas a question during a Q&A event I covered as a student reporter at my college, Webster University in St. Louis. I was pretty nervous, but Costas took the question and ran with it. It’s something I’ll never forget.
BTW, I just finished your book on Buck O’Neil. I can’t wait to read your next book!
Gabe
St. Louis
May 5th, 2008 at 3:12 pm
This is why you’re one of the greatest blog writers on the ‘Net today, Joe. Awesome stuff.
May 6th, 2008 at 8:55 pm
Thanks for that story, Joe. I got a bit emotional there for a second.
Brian Gunn, I wish you still had that blog.
May 8th, 2008 at 12:25 pm
Loved your post ……I was, in the early seventies, a young sales rep in St. louis who had played college hoops and was certifiably delirious when the post dispatch announced that the Carolina Cougars were relocating to St louis.
I became The “Spirit’s” first season ticket holder, a valued vendor to the franchise and a friend to Harry Weltner, the owner/GM of the franchise.
Like many, I though harry was off his rocker when he announced that he had hired a 22 year old kid(Costas) to be his play by play guy on KMOX ……(he also had rudy martzke as his pr director…thats another story) .
When I met Bob I thought him to be a cocky young kid ….though extremely competent. By the fourth or fifth broadcast it was obvious that he had every reason to be confident in his abilities ……which is what I had mistakenly interpreted as cockiness. I got to know Bob (and Rudy) quite well over the next couple of years and found him to be a truly down to earth young man. As he grew in stature in your business he remained grounded and …even today is among the best 2 or 3 broadcasters of my lifetime.
His greatest passion, even then, was baseball. He was a walking encyclopedia who always unhesitatingly corrected others who proferred incorrect factoids …..(usually Martzke) and he has always remained true to his passion and true to his character.
I will continue to enjoy both you and Jason in our local red rag ……the two of you are unquestionabl the only raesons that I still read the Star. Continued good luck
chuck close
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