Sports journalism, just like traditional journalism, is about bringing truth to people. The key to making sure people read your work, however, is being able to tell a compelling story. Sports journalism has been part of the American journalistic landscape for more than a century. While many writers have used pens, typewriters, and keyboards, there are some who stand out more than others, because when it comes to telling a story, many years of practice have honed this talent.
Perhaps the most famous sports journalist of all time is Grantland Rice. Rice was known for his work in the field of football journalism. If you’ve ever heard of Notre Dame’s “Four Horsemen,” you can thank Rice for bestowing this title upon their backfield. He’s also the man who wrote that it’s not “whether you win or lose, but how you play the game.” Rice’s work is notable due to his prose. He didn’t just recount wins and losses, but the details of the wins and losses. His work was significant because it turned sports into more than just games, but rather epics worthy of the epic poets like Homer or Virgil. Perhaps that’s a bit hyperbolic, but, before Rice, few wrote about sports with the grandeur that he regularly bestowed upon the games. His legacy is one within sports that lacks a peer, and for many writers, there is a temptation to be Rice, but such efforts are ill-rewarded because what made Rice’s work different was that he was different.
A sport that is known for heroic prose is boxing, and few boxing writers wrote about the game with the flair and intellect like Bert Sugar. Clad in his trademark fedora and cigar, Sugar was boxing. His career began in 1968 and quickly progressed throughout the years. He authored more than 80 books – including some on baseball – but people will remember him most for his work in boxing. Sugar spent time with Boxing Illustrated and Ring Magazine and covered such amazing fighters like Muhammad Ali, Roberto Duran, Sugar Ray Leonard, Marvin Hagler, and Carlos Monzon. He even wrote about modern boxers such as Floyd Mayweather, Manny Pacquiao, Oscar De La Hoya, Felix Trinidad and Bernard Hopkins. His writing was unique in that, though he looked like a man out of central casting for “boxing writer,” the stories were always unique in that, though he had forgotten more about boxing than most can remember, his writing was never haughty, overwrought, or condescending. To read Sugar is to read a sports writer who is truly in love with his subject.
Another great storyteller in a different medium was Howard Cosell. Cosell’s pugnacious style was a departure from reverential types like Rice. While Cosell is a legend, many of his contemporaries found him to be utterly arrogant and impossible to read. What isn’t up for debate is Cosell’s brilliance. As one of the few writers to refer to Muhammad Ali by his chosen name, Cosell carved out his legendary career primarily in boxing. As a master of the adjective, Cosell regularly called fights and added to their grandeur. His interviews were hard hitting, and he never let his subjects off the hook. In short, Cosell was truly unique, and, because he never strayed from his personality, he ended up being completely inimitable.
Another broadcaster who is inimitable like Cosell but doesn’t share much else with the legend is Vin Scully. Hard to believe, but Scully was broadcasting Dodger games back in the 1950’s, and, until his retirement in 2016, he was the last surviving link to the team’s origins in Brooklyn. Scully is universally beloved because, though he respects baseball, he respects the fan that much more. His most famous calls are where he doesn’t do much speaking, such as Sandy Koufax’s perfect game or Hank Aaron’s record breaking home run. In these moments, Scully let the crowd’s roar provide all the context needed for the listener. Scully knew the importance of detail and would bring colorful details into the broadcast, such as how Koufax mopped his brow between pitches or how Kirk Gibson hobbled around the batter’s box and then around the basepath when his famous home run in Game 1 of the 1988 World Series departed Dodger Stadium. Mostly, Scully’s work on radio and television made him feel like your friend. Always polite, Scully would invite you to “pull up a chair because we have a dandy for you.”
In the modern era, storytelling in sports is a bit formulaic; however, innovative ways to tell the sports stories appear all the time, and, since the turn of the century, one writer has managed to carve out a new storytelling niche from a unique perspective. Bill Simmons was at the beginning of the internet and soon got a space at ESPN writing about sports; however, Simmons never claimed to be a journalist. Instead, he wrote in the voice of the fan. Simmons never hid his rooting interest for his beloved Boston teams, and his voice was first amongst the fans expressing the pain of the 2003 ALCS Red Sox loss and the joy of the Red Sox’ 2004 World Series victory. He’s since authored two books, one on the Red Sox and the other on basketball, and he’s helmed ESPN’s Grantland and now his enterprise, The Ringer. Simmons is notable for describing the roar of fans, creating different paradigms such as the “Levels of Losing” and wrote an interesting column on how he decided to pick an English Premier League team when he decided that soccer needed to be a part of his life. His voice is the voice of the fan, which, until he came around, wasn’t a voice heard much.
In any written or spoken form, storytelling is one of the great ways to pass along any history. For sports journalism, storytelling is how one generation connects with another. It’s how fans relate Ruth to Aaron or Ali to Anthony Joshua. Great storytellers keep sports continually relevant, and the ones that are profiled above the rest are some that stand the test of time.
