ATLANTA — On a fall day in the post-Watergate 1970s, when thousands of teenagers were suddenly inspired to shatter their parents’ dreams and pursue low-paying journalism careers, I attended a college in the West. I walked to the end of the high school hallway. Back in Los Angeles, I was sitting on the floor outside the locked door of my high school newspaper.
A few minutes later, Montserrat Fontes, a teacher and later novelist, walked up, saw me, and, without introducing himself, said: “You look like a sportswriter.”
To this day, I’m not sure if she meant it as a compliment.
I can’t explain why I decided to become a sportswriter. It probably had something to do with his love of sports, devouring Jim Murray’s columns every morning and watching Oscar Madison on The Odd Couple, when he woke up, put on his bathrobe, and put his hands in his pockets. I stretched out, found half the sandwich and of course took a bite. That lifestyle seemed much more appealing than working at his father’s insurance agency, selling life and auto insurance, or any other job that might require actual study.
I mean, if Montse, as everyone who worked at the student newspaper called her, had come up to me and said, “You sound like an astrophysicist,” this trip wouldn’t have been as fun.
this will be my last column The Athletic. This will be my last column, wherever I am. probably. I learned that you can never say “never” in sports or in life. However, after 42 years in this industry, I am retiring.
This is not a sudden decision. Near the end of 2021, when my contract expires, I reflected on my life after the coronavirus pandemic. He re-signed for another two years, but by the beginning of 2023 he was convinced it would be his last. Bill Parcells: “If you’re thinking about retirement, you’re already retired.”
The Athletic It was wonderful. Work was great. And thank you to all the readers who have followed me from the newspaper to the website, and even more so to those of you who think I’ve always gone out of my way to catch your favorite teams and athletes. I learned a long time ago that a sports fan’s passion goes both ways and that you should never squash it. I can’t imagine a sport without controversy.
So why stop? It’s easy. It’s been 46 years since I made $5 covering a high school football game for the Santa Monica Evening Outlook, and the first thing my coach said to me after the game was: He’s the worst coach. ” I quoted him. The next day, he called the newspaper and denied making such a statement. Eventually, when pursued, he admitted saying it, but thought it was off the record. It wasn’t. I’ve had trust issues ever since.
Interviews, reports, writing, building relationships, building sources, gaining trust, you could go on forever. I learned a long time ago that you can write critical columns and still maintain working relationships with people if you believe they are being fair.
“Thank you for showing up. Not many writers would have done that after what you wrote the other day,” a Braves player said to me near the batting cage one night. “That’s very important.”
The days have been very fulfilling. But the time between columns can be tiring. When I go to bed at night and wake up the next morning, I find myself asking the same questions. “What should I write next?” How can I serve my readers? ” — exhausted.
I missed too many holidays and spent too much time with family and friends. Her wife tried to have too many conversations while I was on the phone or looking at the laptop. One year, I missed Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year’s. She should have left me. Even the dog should have left me. I would have left me.
“What to do? Something needs to be done,” Arthur Blank said to me the other day.
“Arthur, I’m 81 and can’t work like you,” I said.
“Okay,” he answered. “But when you wake up, you need something to do. You shouldn’t be bored.”
It’s funny because what I keep saying to my wife is, “Please let me be bored.” I want to know what that feels like. ”
I’ll figure it out. To tell you the truth, my life is full. I have two children with him, a granddaughter, and another grandchild on the way. There are two weddings in my family. I serve on the boards of two of her nonprofit organizations that work with individuals and families in long-term recovery. I wish the sportswriter could imagine that she is on two boards. Recovery and working with mental health has been a passion of mine for the past 12 years and will continue to be so forever.
I worked for newspapers for 37 years in Los Angeles, San Francisco, and Atlanta. I thought the ink would stay on my hands forever. I thought I would live in California forever. Old saying: “Man plans, God laughs.”
One day in 1989, I was living in the Bay Area when a friend from Atlanta called me. He wanted me to introduce him to some NFL writers. Then he asked me if I was interested in the job. I said no. I was covering the most popular 49ers for a newspaper, and we loved living in San Francisco. Fast forward: The offer was too good to be true. I accepted the job. Moved south. Family and friends were shocked. I thought it would last for at least five years. Still here.
In 2018, I received the following call from someone:The Athletic” Venture Capitalist, Ad-Free, Subscription-Only Startups in Journalism. Indeed, what could possibly go wrong?
“We’re coming to Atlanta and everyone says we need to hire you, so you’re my first call,” the person said.
My favorite opening ever.
We talked for over an hour. We talked for several weeks. We discussed changes in the business of journalism and shared our philosophies about good stories and how to develop staff. I admired the vision and courage of founders Alex Mather and Adam Hansman. I got excited thinking about something new. Like many others at a new company, I decided to bet on myself and took the job. I helped develop the Atlanta staff. We started in Atlanta that summer after baseball’s All-Star break. The company set a single-day sales record.
i was hoping The Athletic It will continue for at least two more years. We will leave around 5:30. The company is now owned by The New York Times Company. There have been some changes, and there will be more to come, but the doomsayers seem to have snuck away. I am happy that I was able to participate in that growth.
“I can’t imagine you just leaving,” Braves general manager Alex Anthopoulos said. “You’re going to continue to be dialed in on everything, right? I can’t see you getting cold.”
Indeed, it is difficult to imagine. When the news comes on, you’re probably reaching for your phone. I miss trying to find nuggets of information and getting comments that others don’t have. I will miss the off-the-record conversations with representatives on both sides of the story that helped shape positions in the column. I miss the adrenaline of that moment. I miss not being able to rely on the relationships I’ve built over the years. I feel lonely when I lose some friends, even if they are still friends.
I always go to the game three or four hours early and leave three or four hours after the game is over. You won’t miss out on gaming credentials too much either. However, you will miss out on your parking ticket.
I can’t say I’m leaving sports or writing forever. But this chapter is over.
“When you think something is over, something else often begins,” says Fred Rogers.
One day, Fred. There is no doubt that doors will open. But it might be a good idea to sit on the floor at the end of the hallway for a while. Today seems like a good day to do nothing in the neighborhood. Until then, thank you.
(2020 Photo of Jeff Schultz and Freddie Freeman: Courtesy of Jeff Schultz)