Eli Manning at center of Giants-Jets radio war

The rivalry between the Giants and Jets has spilled over to the radio front in New York. Bob Raissman in the New York Daily News reports that Eli Manning no longer will be appearing on ESPN-1050. The QB had been a regular on the station for eight years.

It seems ESPN-1050 is the Jets’ radio outlet. Now, Manning will be appearing on WFAN, home of the Giants games.

Raissman writes:

Why did the situation change? Who put the kibosh on Manning continuing his  relationship with 1050?

All paths lead to the increased flow of bad blood between the Jets and  Giants. It finally occurred to Giants brass that having the face of their  franchise as a featured voice on the radio home of the Jets was a terrible  idea.

Although the Giants walked away from last season on top of the football  world, management is still angered over Jet brass covering those Giants Super  Bowl logos with curtains in MetLife Stadium before Jets hosted the Giants on  Christmas Eve. They also haven’t forgotten how Gang Green put a picture of  Manning being crushed from behind by Calvin  Pace on the cover of their defensive playbook heading into that game.

“More than all that, I believe (Giants co-owner) John  Mara was not exactly thrilled over Eli  being on the Jets station throughout the Giants Super Bowl year,” the NFL source said.

Saturday flashback: ESPN’s rough coverage of ’81 NFL draft; Questioning why Giants took LT

I’m going to offer a blast from the past on the weekends. It could be an old video, a print interview or profile of a famous newsmaker, or a classic story.

Given that the NFL draft is next week, I thought it would be appropriate to show a clip from ESPN’s coverage in 1981.

The draft was held at the New York Sheraton in a cramped ballroom. They probably had a Bar Mitzvah in it the week before.

My goodness, was this rough from all angles. It looks like a basement-like amateur production compared to the extravaganza you see today.

Check out the crude NFL banner hanging behind Pete Rozelle. Somebody then had to turn on his microphone.

New Orleans selected George Rogers No. 1, and a few minutes later, he stood awkwardly at the podium, unsure of what to say to the crowd.

The coverage was hosted by George Grande with analysis from Sports Illustrated’s Paul Zimmerman and Sal Marchiano.

Fast forward to the 7-minute mark, and there’s Chris Berman, with a full head of hair, conducting an interview in a restaurant.

Then at the 8-minute mark, Sam Rosen, in an interview with New York Giants punter Dave Jennings, asked if the team made a mistake choosing a defensive player with the No. 2 pick. That player just happened to be Lawrence Taylor.

And why would ESPN be talking to a punter? Can you imagine when the Colts draft Andrew Luck Thursday, an ESPN producer yells out, “Get me an interview with their punter.”

Yes, the draft has come a long way since then.

 

 

 

Lost taxi ride: Does anyone know how to get to ESPN?

ESPN PR honcho Josh Krulewitz did a tweet Friday about an old SportsCenter ad featuring Roger Clemens and Cam Neely getting lost on their way to Bristol. It reminded me of my own experience just a few weeks ago.

And now I must share.

When I decide to take on this sports media endeavor, I know I have to make a voyage to Mecca, a.k.a. the land of many satellite dishes. I need to start filling my notebook and kiss everyone’s rings.

I initially plan to rent a car on a bright Tuesday afternoon when my plane lands at the Hartford airport. But I’m tired, and have a tight time issue with an appointment at ESPN. I decide to splurge and spend the $75 for the 45-minute ride to Bristol.

I tell the driver, “You know the way to ESPN in Bristol, right?”

He says, “Sure.”

Why should I doubt him? There must be scores of people going from the airport to Bristol every day. Some of them even important, much more so than me.

So I relax and gaze at the Connecticut countryside. The WWL headquarters are in the middle of nowhere, but my eyes brighten when I see the sign for Bristol. Good, I think, I’ll be there shortly.

Little do I know that my adventure is about to begin.

The driver gets off at a Bristol exit and then drives around for about 10 minutes. We pass an Aldi supermarket and a strip mall that has a Haunted House store front. Very glamorous, this Bristol.

After a series of left and right turns, it suddenly dawns on me. He has no idea where he’s going.

“You’re lost, right?” I ask.

No real reply as he nervously looks at his Garmin. OK, I had the address and he quickly plugs it in.

Within a few minutes, we stumble on to a business park that has a big ESPN presence. However, we’re not on the street in the address and I don’t see any satellite dishes.

“I don’t think this is it,” I say. And it wasn’t. Later, I learn it is another facility for people who aren’t working in the main facility, the one I want to find.

That’s when Garmin starts to go crazy. Every time we make a turn, Garmin starts to do the “recalculating” thing. I feel like the guy in the Allstate “Mayhem” ad. At one point, Garmin tells us to turn right, but there’s no street; only the side of a hill.

This goes on for about another 10 minutes. Now I’m fuming.

Finally, I call Diana in Josh’s office. I say, “You’re not going to believe this, but I have the only cab driver in Hartford who doesn’t know how to get to ESPN.”

Somehow, Diana figures out our location and guides us in. Finally, I see it on the left: The land of many satellite dishes.

Relieved, I get out my cab and see Chris Mortenson. How nice, ESPN arranges for Mort to greet me. Actually, we arrive at the same time. He probably tweets three scoops by the time we reach the front door.

My extended tour of beautiful Bristol finally is over.

Moral of the story: Don’t assume every cab driver in Hartford knows how to get to Bristol. And next time, I rent a car.

 

 

Another year, another snub: Pulitzer Prize ignores sportswriters

Somebody needs to tell the Pulitzer Prize committee there is a section in the newspaper called sports.

It was the same old story this week for the press box gang. Another year of being bypassed by the Pulitzers.

OK, Sara Ganim and the Harrisburg Patriot-News were awarded a Pulitzer Prize for their terrific coverage of the Jerry Sandusky saga.

Ganim, though, isn’t a sportswriter and the mess at Penn State went way beyond the realm of a sports story.

Check the record books. George Dohrmann of St. Paul Pioneer Press was the last individual sportwriter winner in 2000. He received the Pulitzer for his reports of fraud in the Minnesota basketball program. Ira Berkow shared the 2001 Pulitzer for national reporting for his article “The Minority Quarterback” in a New York Times series on race in America.

Since then, more than a decade, nothing. The Pulitzers bypassed Lance Williams and Mark Fainuru-Wada’s fine work on BALCO for the San Francisco Chronicle.

Actually, the Pulitzer snub goes back forever. Only three columnists: Red Smith (1976), Dave Anderson (1981), and Jim Murray (1990) have won the award for commentary. Zero for Grantland Rice and Jimmy Cannon, giants among giants. And the fact that Smith and Murray had to wait until they were so deep into their careers is absolutely absurd.

Now, it’s been 22 years since a sport columnist has claimed a Pulitzer. Meanwhile, a myriad of other columnists in other departments have enjoyed champagne celebrations in their newsrooms. In fact, an old colleague, Mary Schmich from the Chicago Tribune, won the Pulitizer for commentary this year. Congratulations, Mary.

Certainly, with all the great sports columnists in the land, at least a few of them were worthy of breaking the 0 for 22 skid. Again, absurd is the only word that comes to mind.

In his new book, Over Time: My Life as a Sportswriter, Frank Deford details how the sportswriting fraternity repeatedly gets dumped on when it comes to major journalism awards. The Sports Illustrated legend writes in the book (due out May 1) that he once asked NPR to nominate him for a Peabody Award for his weekly commentaries on sports.

NPR decided against it after a Peabody representative flat out said Deford wouldn’t win the award.

He writes:

But this is what stung: Peabody’s spokesman told Ellen (McDonnell, NPR’s executive director of news programming), “You should’ve nominated Daniel Schorr for politics.”

The late Mr. Schorr was the distinguished political commentator on NPR–as far as I was concerned, they could’ve given him a Peabody each and every year. But the idea that his work talking about politics merited recognition simply because of the subject matter, while mine disqualified me–well, yeah that upset me. I’m sorry, but every now and then I take umbrage.

Regarding the Pulitzers, Deford also takes umbrage with the committee giving an annual award to an editorial cartoonist. Matt Wuerker of Politico was tabbed this year.

Deford writes:

Hey, I love political cartoonists. But how many of them are there left? What? Two dozen? And how many newspaper sportswriters are there? Thousands. And for them, the Pulitzer people deign to give out one to a guy at the New York Times every generation or so.

Deford concludes his rant as only he can.

I’m sorry, I can’t apologize for pointing out what slights we in the profession so regularly receive. Sports journalism has been such a crucial economic part of the daily press that it ought to be recognized more, if only because it’s kept a lot of newspapers in business. And yeah, I know, it’s the toy shop. But some toys are very well made.

I always have resented that people label sports the toy department. There is serious work done there by serious people. I’d love for one of the Pulitzer committee members to spend a year covering a Major League Baseball team and then tell me that’s a joy ride. After that grueling experience, I bet they promptly would give a Pulitzer to a baseball writer.

The annual Pulitzer slight bugs all of us in the fraternity. It would be nice for the committee to take a longer look at sportswriters next year.

However, they probably will be too preoccupied judging the best editorial cartoonists.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Paterno’s successor being more open with media at Penn State

It appears as if Bill O’Brien is peeling back the iron curtain at Happy Valley. Writes Ben Brigandi in the Williamsport Sun Gazette:

There’s a virtue in skepticism, and with a healthy dose of it I say that new Penn State football coach Bill O’Brien’s media dealings are off to a pleasant start and a notable improvement over his predecessor. O’Brien told a roomful of sports editors from around the northeast last Tuesday during an Associated Press Sports Editors meeting held at Penn State that he wants to open the program to the media so people can see what it has to offer.

O’Brien obviously has little choice given what has taken place with the program. He needs to be more transparent to help regain the trust and get people on his side.

Brigandi writes:

Since Super Bowl XLVI he’s met with reporters in his office, opened a workout session and parts of some spring practices, and made more players available in-person than before this time of year. O’Brien told us Tuesday he hasn’t defined media policies for the fall, other than to say he wants to make sure major injuries are first disclosed to the families.

ESPN’s Bayless talks about being polarizing; blindsided by Rose; HS hoops career

When I visited Skip Bayless at ESPN back in March, he was beaming. He had just learned that he was nominated for a Sports Emmy in the Outstanding Sports Personality-Sports Event category.

“It is the greatest honor of my career,” said Bayless.

Bayless was fresh off airing a First Take show that included in-studio appearances by Arian Foster, Victor Cruz, and LeSean McCoy. Imagine, big-time athletes wanting some face time on his program. It’s a usual occurrence.

With a Diet Mountain Dew sticking out of his bag, Bayless was pumped as usual. Not that he ever comes down.

Life was good, and we did our interview.

However, there have been some new developments that warranted a follow-up interview. First Kevin Durant knocked Bayless for some of his comments on Russell Westbrook. “That guy doesn’t know a thing about basketball,” Durant said.

That was nothing.

Last week, Bayless was vilified in certain circles when a story alleged he embellished his high school basketball career in a couple of Tweets to his nearly 600,000 followers.

The whole episode went into Twitter/blog hysteria when Jalen Rose called him on it during Tuesday’s show during a basketball debate. It was a low, low blow, catching Bayless off guard. Awkward doesn’t even begin to describe it.

Wednesday’s show then addressed the issue with Bayless adding details about his high school career and rebuking Rose. Mel Bracht of the Oklahoman actually did a piece on Bayless the hoopster, quoting former teammates as saying he really could play.

Meanwhile, Bayless’ critics, of which there are many, went crazy, taking great joy in watching him squirm.

Yet for all the people who profess to detest Bayless, here’s the bottom line: Wednesday’s show, which morphed into a vigorous debate about athletes and the media, attracted more than 400,000 viewers on ESPN2, double the audience that it did on that date in 2011.That’s a huge number for a blah sports Wednesday in April with no Tim Tebow story, or anything else to feed the machine.

In the Twitter world, the show and subjects being discussed had 5 of the top 10 trends. There were tweets from Lance Armstrong, Bill Walton, Jay Feely, Jamal Anderson, among thousands of others. Yet another barometer: Bracht’s story on Bayless had nearly 10 times more pages views than anything else on the Oklahoman site that day.

The entire episode underscored the big question: Can anybody name a more polarizing figure in sports TV right now than Skip Bayless?

As Bayless, 60, says: “I could argue for the Easter Bunny, and I still would lose on Twitter.”

On the one hand, the guy gets nominated for an Emmy. The other nominees were Cris Collinsworth, Charles Barkley, Al Leiter, Harold Reynolds, Kirk Herbstreit, and Trent Dilfer.

On the other, the outrage from his critics was about the same as if a faction of the Democratic party nominated Rush Limbaugh for Man of the Year.

Writes Ken Fang at Fangbites.com:

Besides yelling and inexplicably latching onto Tim Tebow, what Skippy does is bloviate and make a spectacle of himself. He makes himself the story instead of covering it. The Academy got this nomination wrong. I just hope Skippy isn’t labeled “Emmy Award-winning” this year or any other year.

Believe me, that was actually kind compared to others.

In the interest of full disclosure, I worked with Bayless when he was a columnist at the Chicago Tribune in the late 90s. I can say he was as intense about his job as anyone I’ve ever seen in the business.

I also know he believes every word he says. Don’t ever, EVER question his conviction on a subject. Bayless does nothing for show.

Love him or hate him, people certainly are talking about him. And watching, judging by the ratings.

So with that in mind, here are the highlights of my interviews with Bayless:

How does it feel being such a polarizing figure?

Bayless: Wasn’t that the case at the Chicago Tribune? I’ve been through that my whole life. It’s the way it was when I was with the Miami Herald, the LA Times, in Dallas. I grew up on this. The weird thing is wherever I’ve gone, things just happen. I’m trained to go through this. My skin is extremely thick. I must admit when I open my Twitter responses, you always have to remind yourself these are emotional overreactions in large part. My Twitter followers love me. Some of them love to hate me, but it’s born of love.

Certainly some of the comments on your Twitter have to get pretty vile.

Bayless: If someone crosses the line, I go on to the next one. It happens often, but you have to remind yourself: Just accept it for what it is and go on. I get emotional too. I think I’m always right, but a lot of people disagree. Turnabout is fair play. If I can do it on the air, they can do it to me on Twitter. It’s part of the entertainment of sports. I welcome that they do it.

What was your reaction when Rose hit you with that comment on Tuesday’s show, calling you “Water Pistol Pete”?

Bayless: I was blindsided. I restrained myself on the air. I was shocked that Jalen confronted me and used it against me in what was one of our basic debates. The show ended and I was told, ‘Jalen would like to apologize to you for what he did.’ I said he doesn’t need to do that. They said, ‘No, he feels like he owes you that.’

All I was upset about was that Jalen didn’t come to me before the show and say, ‘Is this the truth?’ It wasn’t even close to being the whole the story. All I wanted to do was sit and say here’s my side of the story. If you still want to ridicule me, I’m great with that. I felt like he was running with half-baked blog reports. He did say he say he was sorry and seemed sympathetic. He had a similar story on a much higher level (a clash with then coach Larry Brown with the Indiana Pacers).

How did Wednesday’s show come about?

Bayless: I said, there’s no reason to run from this. Let’s tee it up the next day. The amusing part was I didn’t know what Jalen would do on the air. I didn’t expect him to apologize, but I thought he might be apologetic. If you know Jalen, and I do, and this is what I like about him on the show: He was back to being defiant Jalen. All of the sudden we ripped it off and quickly left behind my insignificant high school basketball career and launched into an all-out discussion on athletes vs. the media.

The great thing about our show is that we are so flexible. We had blocked 10 topics for that show. We scrapped the rest of the rundown. We just said, let it fly.

How did you feel about people saying you embellished your high school career with those Tweets?

Bayless: I get constantly asked on Twitter, did you play basketball in high school? On a Saturday, I put up two tweets. One about this and one about baseball. Baseball was my better sport. I wrote what I did and got to 140 characters. I thought, should I expand on this? I figured nobody cares, and I let it go. Every word in that tweet is 100 percent accurate, but it is only 5 percent of the whole story. But thanks to the 140-character limit, I thought that was enough.

I guess the takeaway is that there are some things that defy Twitter. You don’t have the space to do the whole explanation.

Were you concerned that people were questioning your credibility?

Bayless: This is what kills me. People equate my ability to play basketball with my ability to evaluate basketball and other sports.. This is a constant argument I have with Jalen and Cris Carter. Last year, 28 of the 32 NFL general managers never played one down in the NFL. How do you explain that, Cris?

To Jalen, I say, the best GM in the NBA is R.C. Buford in San Antonio, who didn’t even play college basketball. A classic example is a guy like Michael Jordan. The greatest player who ever played, and we can make a case he is the worst general manager/personnel director/owner in the history of the NBA. They don’t have a comeback for this.

How did you feel about Kevin Durant’s comments?

Bayless: That knocked me out of my chair. I’m from Oklahoma City. Durant is my favorite player. I make no bones about that. All of the sudden because I’m down on his teammate for stealing shots from him, he blasts me. This is Kevin Durant, one of the nicest guys you’ll meet, saying I know nothing about basketball and that I must never watch the Thunder games. In fact, I watch every dribble of the Thunder games. I was just trying to make a point about Russell Westbrook, and I think I’m right.

What does it say that you have athletes reacting to what you say and that you have people searching for your high school basketball records?

Bayless: It shows me our show is arriving. I rarely meet a pro or college athlete who does not watch our show. They all watch it. Partly because it fits into their schedule and lifestyle. I asked Marcellus Wiley, ‘Why is it so many athletes watch our show?’ He said, ‘Because it’s real.’ Then he chuckled and said, ‘They want to see somebody take you down.’

Do you see yourself as the guy wearing the black hat?

Bayless: The thrust of our show is people trying to take me down. They just want to see me lose. That’s why they love Stephen A (Smith). He calls me Skip “Baseless.” Fine. Then I quickly prove to the audience that I’m not baseless and win the argument from him, using live ammo, real facts that he can’t refute.

You’ve described yourself as being obsessive. How does that translate on the show?

Bayless: I’m a fanatic. I’m obsessed. I live for this show. My whole night is watching sports. I watch the 6-7 Sportscenter. Then I watch it seems like every game ever played. Go to bed at midnight. Get up at 5, watch the (West Coast) SportsCenter on the treadmill. I have no choice. When you walk in the door at 7:15, you better know everything that happened the night before, and more important, what your stance is. Are you pro or con?

Are these debates personal to you?

Bayless: I’m driven. I’m competitive. I want to win every debate. The audience gets it. People laugh, but I say I win most debates every night between 6 and midnight in preparation. Reading, watching, thinking, formulating my argument. I do it every night without fail.

What does the Emmy nomination mean to you?

Bayless: It was the greatest honor of my career. I had writing honors. This was against all odds, against the grain, to be nominated in the category I’m in. It was breakthrough for the show, much more for me. And all the people who worked on it, fought so hard, come so hard. Long, hard struggle. The show has broken through since the fall. This has been a thrill ride for all of us. We’re getting validated by the eyeballs for the first time. We’ve always done fairly well, but not like this. This was the cherry on top of all that.

Why is the show registering now?

Bayless: We found our audience. They were there. Whenever I traveled, airports, all I ever heard was, ‘We love the debates. We just wait for the debates.’ I believe we have developed a dynamic unlike anything that’s been on sports television. It’s real, raw. It’s unfiltered. It’s basically unplanned. It’s definitely unscripted. We’re fearless about our topic.

Charles Barkley is another one of your critics. He’s even said he wants to kill you. How does that make you feel?

Bayless: I’m mystified by whatever he’s said about me all the way to his recent kill quotes. I don’t understand it. I don’t know the genesis about it. I love Charles Barkley on the air. I watch every Inside the NBA. I look forward to everything he says. I don’t always laugh with him. Sometimes I laugh at him. The great irony is that many of our debaters who know Charles say, “You’re missing the boat here. Skip’s heart is good. I believe my heart is good.’ I’ve asked him many times to talk to him on the air. We’d go to Atlanta to do it. This vehicle is built for Charles Barkley. He would thrive in it.

A postscript: Bayless sent me the following email Sunday, providing the proverbial “rest of the story” to his high school basketball career.

Bayless: As I said on air on Wednesday, if I HAD played for a high-school coach who loved and encouraged me, I very well might not be where I am today. If, as my teammate told the Oklahoman, I had transfered to a rival high school and averaged 18 a game in an era of 45-40 scores, I probably would have tried to play college basketball, even Division II, and probably gone nowhere. But I was so disillusioned my sophomore year, when I had gone from rising star to shattered confidence, I was far more receptive when the journalism teacher asked me to write two columns a week for the school paper.

I fatefully had her for the one non-journalism class a day she taught, advanced English, and the first day of school she asked us to pick any book and write a one-page report, just so she could gauge our writing ability. I chose a Y. A. Tittle biography. She asked me to stay after class on Friday. I thought I was in trouble. She told me I could write – first I’d heard that – and she told me I was going to write for her paper. I said no, I was player. But by the end of that year, I was writing for the school paper. She eventually entered me in the Grantland Rice Scholarship competition at Vanderbilt – a full ride given once a year to the best prospective sports writer. I won. My career path was set. My faith has always been very important to me. Sometimes God works in mysterious ways.

 

 

 

 

 

Here’s hoping John McEnroe does more than just tennis on ESPN

In the no-surprise department, ESPN named John McEnroe as its lead analyst for Wimbledon. ESPN assumes coverage of the entire tournament this year.

As USA Today’s Michael Hiestand writes, “(ESPN) will formally announce Friday what would be shocking only if it didn’t happen.”

However, here’s the passage from the story that caught my attention:

McEnroe, who had a short-lived CNBC talk show in 2004, suggests he’s also open to ESPN on-air roles beyond tennis. “There’s been talk about that in the past. That’s intriguing. … I’m open to suggestions.”

McEnroe is the few analysts that you stop and watch just because it’s John McEnroe. That sense of energy and tension has carried over from the court to television.

McEnroe also has a wide range of interests in sports and otherwise. He would make a compelling figure for a program with the right format.

If he’s “open,” ESPN should try to make this happen. And if not ESPN, then there’s the NBC Sports Network and CBS Sports Network. Both networks certainly would benefit from his presence.

 

 

Silly stuff: Shaq breaks down a Heat fart; Riggle on hosting ESPYs

OK, the site hasn’t even been up for a week and we’ve got the first analysis of a fart. So much for my vow of not posting low-brow stuff.

Shaquille O’Neal breaks down “a four-deep” fart on the Miami bench during TNT’s coverage Thursday night.

Clearly it caught host Ernie Johnson off guard. “All they (producers) told me was, ‘Go to Shaq on playoff intensity,'” he said.

Also, it is interesting to note in a TNT release on comments from last night, there was no mention of O’Neal’s sterling analysis of the unfortunate turn of events.

Riggle-mania: Speaking of releases, Sports Illustrated’s Richard Deitsch did a tweet noting the curious mix of quotes in ESPN’s announcement that Rob Riggle will host this year’s ESPYs.

From the release:

Additionally, Riggle is currently a Lieutenant Colonel in the U.S. Marine Corps Reserve and has served oversees in Liberia, Kosovo and Afghanistan.

“The ESPYS are proud to support Disney’s ‘Heroes Work Here’ program and we’re honored to have a Marine Corps officer serve as this year’s host,” said ESPN’s EVP of Programming and Acquisitions, Norby Williamson. “Rob’s diverse background and comic style will bring new elements to the show and we’re looking forward to an entertaining show that will speak to the core sports fan.”

Very nice, serious, proper, right? Then it is Lieutenant Colonel Riggle’s turn.

“Why me? Straight up sex appeal. I know guys like Justin Timberlake and Seth Meyers are sexy… What can I say, I’m just another link in that sexy chain,” said Riggle. “I couldn’t be more honored to be the host of the ESPYS!  I just hope they let me do my Karate demo!”

Can’t wait.

 

 

Interview with Furman Bisher: Columnists were the voice

I know I’m a little late with this, but I wanted to weigh in with a tribute to Furman Bisher.

I think Furman would have been overwhelmed by all the thousands of words written about him.

His good friend Dan Jenkins said: “The  most flattering thing I used to say about his work was, ‘He’s the Red Smith  of the South.’

I loved this passage from another one of his good friends, Dave Kindred:

 One time, two years ago, his glorious wife, Linda, called him in the Augusta  press room and Furman became a high school kid in love. “I just finished,  honey,” he said. “It wasn’t much. I keep trying. I’ll do that perfect column  someday.”

Furman never stopped trying until the day he died on March 18 at the age of 93. I got to know the legendary Atlanta columnist during my years covering golf. He was kind, giving and feisty in a charming way.

When he died, I knew I wanted one of my first posts to be a tribute to him. What better way to do it than through his own words.

During the 2008 Masters, I conducted an interview with Furman for a future project. We talked for more than an hour about his career that began in 1938. Here are a few of the excerpts.

In the beginning: I climbed the ladder from the bottom. I started at a little newspaper called the Lumbertown Voice. I was the editor at the age of 20. You can imagine what a smart editor I was. I made $20 a week. I was there for eight months. Then I went to the High Point Enterprise. Did everything under the sun. Covered police beats. Covered the financial markets. On the side, I’d write a little sports every now and then.

Early sports assignment: In Charlotte, I covered the Charlotte Hornets, a Class B team. I traveled a bit with the team. Those were my high moments. Riding the bus mean you were really in there. I’d always go down to the lockerroom and talk to the manager after the game. Nobody ever did that. I just wanted to find out something different from the morning paper. The manager happened to a crusty old coot named Spencer Abbott.

He’d talk out of the side of his mouth. He’d sit and talk until I had what I needed. I learned a lot baseball sitting there.

The next year, he got fired, and they made the second-baseman, who was 22 years old, the manager: Cal Ermer, who went on to manage Twins. Great guy, great person. I went down after the game to talk to him, and he’d said, “Furman, I don’t know what to tell you. Write what you think I might say.’ That’s what I did.

First Masters in 1950: I came through Augusta with the Charlotte Hornets baseball team. I wasn’t assigned to cover the Masters. I just went out and wrote columns on a couple of rounds.

You just walked in, and they were glad to have you. I don’t know that I even got a credential. I don’t remember meeting anybody of authority.

The press room was an army tent down the first fairway. It had a board for the scores. Typewritters on the tables. There were about 8-10 guys in there. That’s where you worked.

If (long-time Nashville columnist) Fred Russell walked in here (Augusta’s massive press center) now, he’d have a heart attack. He’d say, ‘They’re spoiling the hell out of you all.’

On covering Ben Hogan: At first, I was a little shy about approaching Hogan. You could talk to him as long as you asked good questions. He’d give you his time. He was still strung pretty tight in this days. Later on, we got to be pretty good friends. I talked to him when I wrote the book on the Masters. I started to take out my tape recorder and he said, ‘No, I don’t do any tape recordings.’

I have about 5 or 6 letters from him at home. Letters thanking me.  It would be so unusual for an athlete to do that now.

On the power of being a columnist in the pre-ESPN era: Being a columnist meant more. There was no Internet. The sport fan didn’t have sportscenter and ESPN. People are lazy. A lot of people don’t like to read. Now they’d rather sit there and get it through the ears.

It was a great being a columnist back then. Columnists were the voice. People viewed sports through you.  I was in the Sportings News and Saturday Evening Post. It was a little inflating. I used to drive around state of Georgia, get out at a filling station or stop to have a sandwich, and everyone would say, “That’s Furman Bisher.” I’d walk into a stadium and some 10 or 12 year old with his daddy would say, “Hi Furman.” I loved that.

I walk in now and nobody knows me from a side of beef.

His style: My style was to write as I saw it. I didn’t rail about any causes, except I’m against the DH and a lot of these idiotic football rules. What they play now isn’t basketball, it’s court-rassling. I see 10 fouls on a play, and none get called. It’s a form of poorly officiated wrestling.

One regret: I regret one thing about my career: I dealt with fun and games. I’m sorry I didn’t have a more meaningful impact on the world. I’d like to have been an editorial writer. I have solid opinions.

Otherwise, I have no regrets. How can I? I’ve had every break in the world. And I made good money. I’ve (started) scholarships at North Carolina and Furman that my wife and I fund. That sort of salves my dismay at not having been a more politically expressive figure.