With New Year's nearly upon us, I figured I'd chronicle one of the crazier events I found myself in the midst of this season.
It was my first year as Director of Media Relations for the PDL Rhode Island Stingrays. At the suggestion of my buddy Josh Hakala (who runs the excellent USOpenCup.com website), I figured I'd lend my services to the local side, who, in my estimation, weren't exactly the most promoted club this side of the Seekonk River.
At first, the job wasn't too much of a deviation from my previous work as a beat writer. That was until I got my inbox flooded with hundreds of unsolicited offers from product manufacturers. Some were pretty standard. Scarves, patches, pennants. The good stuff kids nag their parents for. I got a sample soccer toothbrush. My teeth were aglow for weeks.
I also got player resumes. Lots of resumes. Soccer players from - allegedly- as far as Nigeria. They just wanted to play here in the States. Even for a small-time PDL side. If anyone ever doubts that this country has lost its title as "the Land of Opportunity," I can, for a small fee, recover about a dozen of those resumes from my trash bin to comprehensively destroy that argument.
Of course, one of the most interesting moments was when the Reading Rage came to Rhode Island for the July 16th match. Because the home pitch at Pierce Field was being occupied by the city's annual Heritage Days Festival, the location for the game was - wouldn't you guess it - Rhode Island College.
So, about 48 hours prior to the match, the general manager shot me an e-mail requesting directions. I replied with a Mapquest link to the field. Because the field isn't the easiest to get to, I provided additional directions within the campus. In other words, I absolutely helped them get there.
And how do they reward me, the poor fellow who has to craft the match report? With white numbers. On white jerseys. Absolutely brilliant.
It wasn't an issue while I was on the sideline talking to Coach Pereira during warmups. You can spot a white number on a white jersey from three yards away. But a good 25 feet above and 50 feet away from center circle, which, wouldn't you know, is precisely where the press box sits at RIC Soccer Field? Not so much.
Making matters just a bit more challenging was the permanent bug screen affixed to the windows of the press box. The only thing missing was a slow, thick wave of fog parking itself on the pitch and, perhaps, both of my contact lenses simultaneously falling out to really make things difficult.
And so it was up to Chuck, our announcer, Chelsea, our statistician, and myself to discern those guilty of Reading fouls, assists, and goals. Substitutions? Oh, that was real fun, especially because the benches were on the opposite sides of the field. Chelsea had a direct line to her mom, Liz Balasco (director of operations) on the sideline, which helped somewhat, but did prevent the not-so-rhetorical "who was that?" dialogue that ran for good ninety minutes.
Meanwhile, I became a cuckoo bird, running out of the box and down near field level once every, oh, seven minutes to better ascertain which Rage player did what. "Who was that?" "I'll go check." Luckily, I keep myself in good enough shape to where I wasn't huffing and puffing like a big bad wolf. But, after awhile, I did feel like Grover from Sesame Street.*
(This is near....This is FAR! This is Near...This is FAAARRRRR!)
When it was all said and done, the soccer gods made it abundantly clear that they did not approve of these white number/white kit shenanigans: the mighty Rage, with 11 wins at the time, lost to a 1-win club.
Trifle not with the soccer gods.
Showing posts with label media. Show all posts
Showing posts with label media. Show all posts
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
The shoe-throwing media
In case you haven't read one of the, like, 300 or so previous posts, I enjoy writing about soccer here.Granted, I do get thrown off by celebrity hijinx, impromptu book reviews, TV shows and other forms of pop culture references here and there. Hey, I never claimed to be good at this.
One thing I do like to talk about is the media, since, hey, I'm a card-carrying member of the press. Am I an expert, veteran journalist who's scoured the globe in search of the truth? Not at all. I am a colllege student who, whenever he gets the chance, likes to write about sports.
As many of you saw over the weekend, the most publicized shoe-throwing incident since Sir Alex tossed a boot in the direction of one David Beckham five years ago transpired in Baghdad. One, then two boots were hurled in the direction of President Bush during a televised press conference.
The first time I saw it, I admit, I laughed. Ha, ha. The idea of someone hurling their shoes at a world leader is kinda funny at first, if not somewhat distasteful. It's humorous until you actually realize that it's your own country's president. Whether you like George W. Bush or not, his title for many does stand for something.
But that's not even where my main concern is. Here's where I have a problem. That shoe-thrower happened to be a journalist. At that press conference with President Bush and Iraqi Prime Minister Nouri al-Maliki, Muntazer al-Zaidi, an Iraqi TV reporter, placed his own self-interests ahead of his job and decided to become the story. As anyone who knows anything about journalism, that is a BIG NO NO.
The job of the journalist to report on the news - not to become the news. Once we become the news, objectivity disappears, and our credibility is shot to hell. What al-Zaidi did is violate one of the basic tenets of journalism: he made himself the story. Moreso, he violated two of the four prongs of The Society of Professional Journalists Code of Ethics.
According to this code, journalists should "seek truth and report it." The code states that "journalists should be honest, fair and courageous in gathering, reporting, and interpreting information."
Additionally, journalists should "minimize harm." In fact, "ethical journalists treat sources , subjects and colleagues as human beings deserving of respect," according to the code. Clearly, al-Zaidi, whatever his motivations, grossly overstepped these principles by hurling his shoes at a subject.*
(*While Bush escaped the incident without injury, the same can not be said for White House press secretary Dana Perino. She sustained a painful shiner under her right eye during the ensuing melee'. Gotta say I gained alot of respect for public relations after she returned to the press podium with a fresh bruise earlier this week.)
Mouyyad al-Lami, the head of the Iraqi journalists union, called al-Zaidi's actions "strange and unprofessional." Unprofessional, indeed. Because when one journalist looks bad, it makes alot of us look bad.
The title of journalist is not a God-given right - it's a privilege. It's a title afforded to a few lucky individuals who find a certain sense of nobility in keeping the public informed and the powers that be in check.
What al-Zaidi did, in my view, is a slap in the face to the many upright and respectful journalists who adhere to a certain code of ethics and abide by them on a daily basis.
Furthermore, given the context of where the incident took place - Iraq - makes it even more disturbing. The freedom of the press has been something enjoyed, if not taken for granted, by Americans for over 200 years. The idea of a free press is a pipe dream in many, many countries around the world. Iraq used to be one of those countries.
Yet, that concept seems to have been all but forgotten by al-Zaidi. Had he pulled a similar stunt six years ago, he would have likely been severely beaten, then tortured for years to come under Saddam Hussein's brutal regime.
As a journalist, I hope Mr. al-Zaidi is shown clemency by the state for his actions. As unprofessional as he acted, he did not commit a serious crime.
But his actions should be a reminder to all journalists that our profession is one of privilege, and by no means, a birthright.
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Foxboro finale?
Shortly after Thursday night's First Leg of the Eastern Conference semifinals, it dawned upon me that it was likely my last visit to Foxboro for soccer football. Barring a New England EC semifinal victory (possible) and a Kansas City upset over Columbus (impossible), the Revolution have played their final home match of the season.
It's been a crazy, but fun season. I witnessed the first match of the season in section 103 with my mother, as we nearly succumbed to frostbite amid the 30 degree temperatures. With hot chocolate and seventeen layers of clothing acting as our only defenses, we survived to watch the Revolution beat the Dynamo 3-0.
In June, the soccer gods rewarded the region with another visit from Brazil. Even without Ronaldinho and Kaka', A Seleção thrilled the crowd but failed to beat an inspired Venezuela, losing 0-2. To me, there is no greater sports thrill than watching Brazil in person. The crowd. The seismic rumbles that reverberate throughout the stadium during the cheers and chants. The scantily-clad Brazilian mamis. All proof that God is indeed a football fan.
Doug Warren captivated us when he made his first start in nearly three years against D.C. United. A 2-1 victory for the Revolution, but more importantly, it was a testament to patience and class. And no one on the club deserved it more than Dougie, who is one of the absolute nicest guys in professional soccer.
Lastly, I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention the 4-0 loss Joe Public FC. Yes, it was likely one of the ugliest Revolution matches I’ve ever seen. Defenders looked like matadors. Midfield was shakier than the San Andreas. But it Gregory Richardson’s night. The Guyanan international single-handedly owned the pitch with a hat trick and an assist in one of the most singular performances I’d ever witnessed. The kid is going to be a star someday, wherever he plays.
*******
Prior to the match, Sean Donahue and I traded updates on our school’s soccer teams. After mentioning the Anchorwomen’s 1-16-1 record, I was surprised to learn that Bryant’s men’s team is 1-14-1. Of course, the Bulldogs’ record is largely attributable to the fact that 2008 marked their first season in Division I.
Nevertheless, I took an odd solace that the Anchorwomen were not the only club in the state that sported an unflattering record.
*******
While driving home for the Revs-Fire match with my final game in Foxboro nothing but a memory, I reflected on what my purpose was, as a soccer writer.
If you had told me five years ago that I'd be a credentialed member of the soccer media, I would have laughed right in your face – the kind of laugh where spit comes out because you’re trying to contain it. My face would have turned bright red, and tears would have escaped my eyelids. It would have been LMFAO to the one trillionth degree.
I’ve told the story of how I feel into this gig many times.* And last night was one of those nights where, as I briefly gazed upon the darkness of the night sky and saw the stars twinkle brightly through the top of my windshield on my way home, I smiled. That smile must have lasted seven miles* between 495 and 95.
(*Check the Thanksgiving entry in the November 2006 archives for the tale. I was pretty green back then.)
And it lasted through Sara Bareillis’ “Bottle It Up” blared through the car speakers.
I do it for love
Love,
Love,
Love*
(*I know that the context of that song has NOTHING to do with soccer, writing, or sports. But its timing just felt appropriate when it came on the radio.)
I thought of a John Updike quote I recently read that - to paraphrase - a writer who writes solely for money is a vulgarity. You can tell who does it for the paycheck, however small it is nowadays. I’ve always been a firm believer in this litmus test for sportswriters: if you don’t smile once – just once – because of something you witnessed on the field, you’re in the wrong profession. Attend a career workshop. Hire a life coach. This job is either not for you, or has passed you by.
Which brings me to my next point.
*******
If there’s a reporter’s press box etiquette guide out there, I’d like to see it. And amend it.
While pounding away at my keypad crafting a sidebar last night, I overheard a conversation between two middle-aged writers on the other side of the box.
“I hope this is the last soccer game I have to watch this season,” said one.
“Me too," said the other. "I can’t believe I’m stuck here writing about this. And for who? The 5,000 or so people who were here? Ridiculous…"
“Seriously, who really cares about this? Does anyone actually care about soccer around here?”
Okay. I get it. You don’t like soccer.
You probably don’t understand it, either. That’s fine. I don’t understand a lot of things. Like mechanical engineering, for instance. But, I don’t barge into my brother’s classes and rip the field of engineering out loud. That would be extremely insulting to everyone on the room.
So don’t insult me. My job is to write on soccer. By disrespecting what I do, you are disrespecting not only me, but pretty much everyone else in the room.
So please, try to exhibit some class.
Next, if you don’t like soccer, don’t care for it, and would rather see it played elsewhere, like on the moon, fine. I don’t force my opinions on anyone. But failure to keep those thoughts to yourself in a room full of soccer reporters makes you sound like a bitter jackass.
Lastly – why are you here? If you don’t like your assignments, then go work for another publication. Don’t infect the box with your negative attitude which, I’m sure, was appreciated by no one but your tag team soccer hater. If you have nothing nice to say…
So, I hereto propose the following amendment:
Please refrain from broadcasting negative opinions and views about the event you are covering. Keep in mind that your peers likely enjoy what they do, and any disparaging remarks about the event may be construed as disrespectful.
It's been a crazy, but fun season. I witnessed the first match of the season in section 103 with my mother, as we nearly succumbed to frostbite amid the 30 degree temperatures. With hot chocolate and seventeen layers of clothing acting as our only defenses, we survived to watch the Revolution beat the Dynamo 3-0.
In June, the soccer gods rewarded the region with another visit from Brazil. Even without Ronaldinho and Kaka', A Seleção thrilled the crowd but failed to beat an inspired Venezuela, losing 0-2. To me, there is no greater sports thrill than watching Brazil in person. The crowd. The seismic rumbles that reverberate throughout the stadium during the cheers and chants. The scantily-clad Brazilian mamis. All proof that God is indeed a football fan.
Doug Warren captivated us when he made his first start in nearly three years against D.C. United. A 2-1 victory for the Revolution, but more importantly, it was a testament to patience and class. And no one on the club deserved it more than Dougie, who is one of the absolute nicest guys in professional soccer.
Lastly, I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention the 4-0 loss Joe Public FC. Yes, it was likely one of the ugliest Revolution matches I’ve ever seen. Defenders looked like matadors. Midfield was shakier than the San Andreas. But it Gregory Richardson’s night. The Guyanan international single-handedly owned the pitch with a hat trick and an assist in one of the most singular performances I’d ever witnessed. The kid is going to be a star someday, wherever he plays.
*******
Prior to the match, Sean Donahue and I traded updates on our school’s soccer teams. After mentioning the Anchorwomen’s 1-16-1 record, I was surprised to learn that Bryant’s men’s team is 1-14-1. Of course, the Bulldogs’ record is largely attributable to the fact that 2008 marked their first season in Division I.
Nevertheless, I took an odd solace that the Anchorwomen were not the only club in the state that sported an unflattering record.
*******
While driving home for the Revs-Fire match with my final game in Foxboro nothing but a memory, I reflected on what my purpose was, as a soccer writer.
If you had told me five years ago that I'd be a credentialed member of the soccer media, I would have laughed right in your face – the kind of laugh where spit comes out because you’re trying to contain it. My face would have turned bright red, and tears would have escaped my eyelids. It would have been LMFAO to the one trillionth degree.
I’ve told the story of how I feel into this gig many times.* And last night was one of those nights where, as I briefly gazed upon the darkness of the night sky and saw the stars twinkle brightly through the top of my windshield on my way home, I smiled. That smile must have lasted seven miles* between 495 and 95.
(*Check the Thanksgiving entry in the November 2006 archives for the tale. I was pretty green back then.)
And it lasted through Sara Bareillis’ “Bottle It Up” blared through the car speakers.
I do it for love
Love,
Love,
Love*
(*I know that the context of that song has NOTHING to do with soccer, writing, or sports. But its timing just felt appropriate when it came on the radio.)
I thought of a John Updike quote I recently read that - to paraphrase - a writer who writes solely for money is a vulgarity. You can tell who does it for the paycheck, however small it is nowadays. I’ve always been a firm believer in this litmus test for sportswriters: if you don’t smile once – just once – because of something you witnessed on the field, you’re in the wrong profession. Attend a career workshop. Hire a life coach. This job is either not for you, or has passed you by.
Which brings me to my next point.
*******
If there’s a reporter’s press box etiquette guide out there, I’d like to see it. And amend it.
While pounding away at my keypad crafting a sidebar last night, I overheard a conversation between two middle-aged writers on the other side of the box.
“I hope this is the last soccer game I have to watch this season,” said one.
“Me too," said the other. "I can’t believe I’m stuck here writing about this. And for who? The 5,000 or so people who were here? Ridiculous…"
“Seriously, who really cares about this? Does anyone actually care about soccer around here?”
Okay. I get it. You don’t like soccer.
You probably don’t understand it, either. That’s fine. I don’t understand a lot of things. Like mechanical engineering, for instance. But, I don’t barge into my brother’s classes and rip the field of engineering out loud. That would be extremely insulting to everyone on the room.
So don’t insult me. My job is to write on soccer. By disrespecting what I do, you are disrespecting not only me, but pretty much everyone else in the room.
So please, try to exhibit some class.
Next, if you don’t like soccer, don’t care for it, and would rather see it played elsewhere, like on the moon, fine. I don’t force my opinions on anyone. But failure to keep those thoughts to yourself in a room full of soccer reporters makes you sound like a bitter jackass.
Lastly – why are you here? If you don’t like your assignments, then go work for another publication. Don’t infect the box with your negative attitude which, I’m sure, was appreciated by no one but your tag team soccer hater. If you have nothing nice to say…
So, I hereto propose the following amendment:
Please refrain from broadcasting negative opinions and views about the event you are covering. Keep in mind that your peers likely enjoy what they do, and any disparaging remarks about the event may be construed as disrespectful.
Saturday, August 30, 2008
The slow demise of objectivity?
As a soccer writer based in the Northeast region of a country that already has four other sports to worship, watch, and play, there's a great perk to covering soccer. The accessability to soccer players is, bar none, much greater than your run of the mill Major League Baseball player or NFL hero, and thus, far easier to report on.
I'm sure it's not just like this in New England. I'm willing to bet that the large majority of news you read about soccer - specifically, MLS - is nowhere near as "restrained" as it is in other pro sports. Because soccer still has a few mountains to climb in acquiring the enormous popularity that the NFL and MLB enjoy, the obsessive fanbase in each of these sports has not forced the hand, so to speak, of media outlets to become veritable bedpartners with the teams they cover.
Recently, I stumbled upon a site that highlighted a radio interview given by some of its players. I won't name names because I'm not here to call people and/or entities out. Anyway, the station, to my knowledge, has no affiliation to the team. Maybe this doesn't strike you as odd, but to me, it forces me to question the objectivity of the station.
I'm sure this isn't an isolated incident. Many media outlets partner up with teams in order for the outlet to provide "exclusives coverage", and the team to get its name to flood the airwaves and ink.
With that being, I'm going out on a limb, and take it one step further, and say that since I know of no such partnership between MLS and a major media outlet, that soccer reporting in the United States may very well be the most pure and objective form of journalism - on the whole - in professional sports right now. And I mean no disrespect to baseball, football and other sports reporters at all. There are many excellent reporters who cover sports outside of soccer. But I bet if you asked them if there was a growing concern regarding objectivity in this age of media and sports marriages, some of them would anonymously give an affirmative answer.
It will only be a matter of time before this union of media and sports teams pervades America's take on the beautiful game. You see, the very essence of journalism is to present the facts in a fair and balanced way. It's what I've always been told by my journalism professors and by fellow journalists as well. We, as journalists, are to keep a healthy distance from the subjects we cover in order to uphold the high degree of fairness an objectivity we owe to the profession.
Now, some may argue that, as human beings, this is impossible. All of us harbor a unique combination of feelings and viewpoints toward any given topic. The war in Iraq. The presidential races. OPEC. Yet, somehow, these issues can often be covered and then delivered in a fair and balanced fashion by good journalists who uphold the standards.
But what happens when media outlets unapologetically align themselves with the clubs they cover? What happens when print, radio, or the internet form visible associations with your favorite teams? What happens when a regional sports media outlet is featured on an official team website? Again, I won't name either party because it's not my place.
I'll tell you what happens: goodbye, objectivity. Adios, full story. Because, in this day and age where Josh Beckett's arm is bigger news than an impending Category Four hurricane, the media has not only catered to the teams to they cover, but is quickly becoming de facto public relations outfits for many of these teams. Because publications recognize that sports is one of the few money-making subjects, the journalistic standard sacrifices some of its soul in order to keep these very teams on its good graces.
However, the blame cannot rest squarely on the media itself. It's an unfortunate truth that many print outlets are losing money faster than the federal government. Internet media is swallowing up print at an alarming rate. So the print publications have to do something, and one thing they seem all to happy to do is bend over backwards to the outfits that give them a considerable appeal: sports teams.
And the clubs - boy, are they sly. Because they know they wield considerable power, they control the information given to reporters. It's really become the pinnacle of PR in sports nowadays, where communications directors often cut and splice, twist and contort information like a presidential press officer. The age in which a curious or determined beat reporter would dig up a story, present it in fair light, and send it off to his/her editor is quickly going the way of the dinosaur. Even long-time Providence Journal sports columnist Jim Donaldson mentioned this very idea in regards to his coverage of Patriots training camp. You cannot simply approach a player after practice, or in any other similar fashion, without full clearance from media relations. In other words, the claw of many sports PR departments has taken unprecedented steps to smother any chance of "unflattering" leaking into the sports page or world wide web.
The fact is that the large portion of the sports news you hear is a rehash of a events outlined in a press release. Because print media is operating at lower costs than ever before, jobs are being cut, and writing chores are being delegated to the "surviving" writers. Needless to say, writers inherit additional deadlines, and the time to do true investigative journalism wanes more and more with each passing fiscal year. Budgets must be met, and the cost of ink, nor the cost of the materials necessary to put together a newspaper or magazine, aren't bucking the trend of inflation.
As print media continues to struggle, the quality of reporting on the whole has slowly withered. Don't blame the writers - they, just like the companies they work for, are just trying to make a living and get by. It's a game. Yet, the relationship between media and clubs is becoming far too cozy nowadays, especially in New England where a rabid fanbase will ingest anything sports related.
Fans shouldn't panic too much, though. They'll still get game stories, some interesting tidbits, and some well-written columns and features. Just don't expect to be given the full story of your favorite team's starting pitcher or first-string quarterback anytime soon.
I'm sure it's not just like this in New England. I'm willing to bet that the large majority of news you read about soccer - specifically, MLS - is nowhere near as "restrained" as it is in other pro sports. Because soccer still has a few mountains to climb in acquiring the enormous popularity that the NFL and MLB enjoy, the obsessive fanbase in each of these sports has not forced the hand, so to speak, of media outlets to become veritable bedpartners with the teams they cover.
Recently, I stumbled upon a site that highlighted a radio interview given by some of its players. I won't name names because I'm not here to call people and/or entities out. Anyway, the station, to my knowledge, has no affiliation to the team. Maybe this doesn't strike you as odd, but to me, it forces me to question the objectivity of the station.
I'm sure this isn't an isolated incident. Many media outlets partner up with teams in order for the outlet to provide "exclusives coverage", and the team to get its name to flood the airwaves and ink.
With that being, I'm going out on a limb, and take it one step further, and say that since I know of no such partnership between MLS and a major media outlet, that soccer reporting in the United States may very well be the most pure and objective form of journalism - on the whole - in professional sports right now. And I mean no disrespect to baseball, football and other sports reporters at all. There are many excellent reporters who cover sports outside of soccer. But I bet if you asked them if there was a growing concern regarding objectivity in this age of media and sports marriages, some of them would anonymously give an affirmative answer.
It will only be a matter of time before this union of media and sports teams pervades America's take on the beautiful game. You see, the very essence of journalism is to present the facts in a fair and balanced way. It's what I've always been told by my journalism professors and by fellow journalists as well. We, as journalists, are to keep a healthy distance from the subjects we cover in order to uphold the high degree of fairness an objectivity we owe to the profession.
Now, some may argue that, as human beings, this is impossible. All of us harbor a unique combination of feelings and viewpoints toward any given topic. The war in Iraq. The presidential races. OPEC. Yet, somehow, these issues can often be covered and then delivered in a fair and balanced fashion by good journalists who uphold the standards.
But what happens when media outlets unapologetically align themselves with the clubs they cover? What happens when print, radio, or the internet form visible associations with your favorite teams? What happens when a regional sports media outlet is featured on an official team website? Again, I won't name either party because it's not my place.
I'll tell you what happens: goodbye, objectivity. Adios, full story. Because, in this day and age where Josh Beckett's arm is bigger news than an impending Category Four hurricane, the media has not only catered to the teams to they cover, but is quickly becoming de facto public relations outfits for many of these teams. Because publications recognize that sports is one of the few money-making subjects, the journalistic standard sacrifices some of its soul in order to keep these very teams on its good graces.
However, the blame cannot rest squarely on the media itself. It's an unfortunate truth that many print outlets are losing money faster than the federal government. Internet media is swallowing up print at an alarming rate. So the print publications have to do something, and one thing they seem all to happy to do is bend over backwards to the outfits that give them a considerable appeal: sports teams.
And the clubs - boy, are they sly. Because they know they wield considerable power, they control the information given to reporters. It's really become the pinnacle of PR in sports nowadays, where communications directors often cut and splice, twist and contort information like a presidential press officer. The age in which a curious or determined beat reporter would dig up a story, present it in fair light, and send it off to his/her editor is quickly going the way of the dinosaur. Even long-time Providence Journal sports columnist Jim Donaldson mentioned this very idea in regards to his coverage of Patriots training camp. You cannot simply approach a player after practice, or in any other similar fashion, without full clearance from media relations. In other words, the claw of many sports PR departments has taken unprecedented steps to smother any chance of "unflattering" leaking into the sports page or world wide web.
The fact is that the large portion of the sports news you hear is a rehash of a events outlined in a press release. Because print media is operating at lower costs than ever before, jobs are being cut, and writing chores are being delegated to the "surviving" writers. Needless to say, writers inherit additional deadlines, and the time to do true investigative journalism wanes more and more with each passing fiscal year. Budgets must be met, and the cost of ink, nor the cost of the materials necessary to put together a newspaper or magazine, aren't bucking the trend of inflation.
As print media continues to struggle, the quality of reporting on the whole has slowly withered. Don't blame the writers - they, just like the companies they work for, are just trying to make a living and get by. It's a game. Yet, the relationship between media and clubs is becoming far too cozy nowadays, especially in New England where a rabid fanbase will ingest anything sports related.
Fans shouldn't panic too much, though. They'll still get game stories, some interesting tidbits, and some well-written columns and features. Just don't expect to be given the full story of your favorite team's starting pitcher or first-string quarterback anytime soon.
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