Heard some rumblings that Mike Lupica might not be done at the New York Daily News even though he was part of Wednesday’s massive purge of the sports section.
Richard Sandomir of the New York Times writes:
Lupica was reported by Politico to be on his way out after having been unable to renew his contract. But he and the newspaper declined to comment on whether negotiations were continuing. Last month, Lupica lost his daily afternoon radio show at ESPN Radio in New York.
Meanwhile, Jeff Pearlman wrote about his conflicted feelings about Lupica.
On the one hand:
I actually have a mixed reaction to Lupica’s farewell. On the one hand, he has spent a v-e-r-y long time acting as one of the biggest assholes in sports media. I don’t say that lightly, or kindly. Lupica has treated so many so terribly for so long. I mean, the stories are endless. Blowing off young writers seeking help, wiping out co-workers who merely tiptoe on his turf, ignoring a friendly “Hello” from the neighboring scribe in the press box. On and on and on and on. I’ve been doing this a long time, and I think—off the top of my head—I’ve met one colleague who sorta kinda liked Lupica. But it came accompanied by a, “Look, I know he’s a dick, but …” conditional.
On the other:
But I do hurt for journalism—my love. If you’re a sports writer who came up in New York in the late 1970s or ’80s or ’90s, Lupica represents something. He was a voice. A powerful voice. Say what you want, at his best the man turned a tremendous column; made points that hammered you down like a boulder from a cliff. His pen was mighty; his voice potent. Lupica mattered because journalists mattered, and columnists (in particular) mattered. There weren’t 100,000 bloggers telling you why Steph Curry rules and Carmelo sucks. No, there were, simply, a handful of go-to voices, ordained with the task of crafting a sports-related argument from words and thoughts. In Los Angeles it was Jim Murray. In New York, it was Lupica. He was the guy.