Not long ago, while at a college track meet, I looked around and realized that I just might be the closest thing to a press representative present…for a conference championship. (I honestly believe that I was the only one.) As someone who has read the sports section of newspapers for years, I long ago reached the conclusion that their editors treat the sport of track and field, at best, as a minor one. The “why,” of this, on the other hand, had previously escaped me.
It was on the drive home that day when that question’s answer took form. For starters, track is totally different than any other sport. In the big three—football, basketball, and baseball, and most others—there are two teams, and one ball. To follow the game, the concept is simple; follow the ball. Anyone present can see, and follow, what’s happening…even a sportswriter.
The playing surfaces of these, and other ball sports, are relatively short. And the scores are posted where you can visually follow them as the game progresses. If you get hungry, thirsty, or need a break from “the action,” that scoreboard is your friend, not only because of the running score, but the fact that the clock goes down. Most games last less than two hours. (We won’t discuss baseball, however.)
Sportswriters have an additional advantage when they cover the big three; there’s lots of lovin’ goin’ on. The host school provides free food (so a reporter needn’t pull an Elvis if he gets the munchies), a steady stream of information (stat sheets, courtesy the home team, are produced continuously), and with the host team press liaison’s post-game summary, the story practically writes itself…and sometimes does.
The aforementioned pertains, for the most part, to college sports. Go one step up, and so do the amenities. At major colleges, as well as professional sports, where in-depth coverage = ticket sales = mucho money, there are usually pre-game buffets, even more “inside information,” and post game access to both teams’ coaches and athletes. And there are lots and lots of friendly e-mails from sports information people, both prior, and subsequent, to the event.
Now, let’s take a look at track. (The comparison, from my experience, is the same at both the college and high school levels.) Usually, there are numerous teams, perhaps dozens, but still only one ball. (Good luck finding it. It might be within sight of the track, but usually it is not.)
In high school, there are 34 events (if you count both Boys and Girls)—in college 42— which run concurrently. Spend too much time at one, and you miss others. Spread time among all of them, and you might miss a couple of finals, or at least some of the day’s best performances.
There is a clock, but it goes up, not down, so a sportswriter could be there for eight to ten hours (but rarely are), and get paid for one story. Whom do you know that would be content with that scenario?
To assist a sportswriter, there used to be something called “Results Sheets.” How else, after all, can you follow dozens of events, over an area the size of a high school or college campus, all by your lonesome? That was before an event which I call Fahrenheit 2012.
Professional timers—who have relegated track officiating (in an historical sense) to a more or less minor role--seem to be getting progressively more possessive of meet results. While event sheets might be posted in some location far off the track, usually there is an attempt to go “paperless,” hence my previous (analogous) reference to author Ray Bradbury’s timeless sci-fi masterpiece. Fahrenheit 451 was—according to its author—written not about censorship, as is generally believed, but about the corrosive effect of television—read: electronics--on literature in general, and the human ability to absorb content in particular. Context, thus, is replaced by factoids. (Still, most of its readers still cling to the censorship theme.)
Further, underlying themes seem to allude to the media’s effect upon the social process of human interaction. (It was probably Bradbury who introduced “earbuds,” and accurately predicted large screen televisions—he described them as “wall sized”—way back in 1950s.) For these reasons, Fahrenheit 451 has proven to be Orwellian in scope, predicting a dystopian future for, well, us.
Less and less are complete results available at a track meet. At most 2012 track meets (and will probably expand to cross country this fall), when asked for information, instead of clicking on “print,” a timer might point to the wall of a bathroom (a metaphor, perhaps?), or say, “It’s online.”
One thing I haven’t sorted out is this: if the results are posted online, instead of being accessible at the meet, does that require a sportswriter to stay at home?
The author, in addressing this, is not attempting to minimize a usually accurate and highly efficient method of scoring a track meet, but rather, point out that different people have different needs, especially a photo-journalist. Watching the events, photographing its competitors, interviewing its participants, and interpreting the outcome of a meet all occur on different levels, and in reporting them, a sportswriter requires as much of the information as possible.
Sportswriters who have covered national and international-level competition are aware that there are track organizers who know how to play the Track v. Ball game, and win. Take note of this summer’s Olympic Athletics (track and field) coverage, and you will see that all meets are not packaged the same.
This is not to say that a high school or college meet can compete with a billion dollar event, but one could make an attempt to be more hospitable at the site, and take note of the results…unless they are posted online. This includes trackside accessibility to results, but extends beyond that to acceptance of the sportswriter as a part of the track scene. Through his coverage, he provides a long term quality to an event(s) that may last from seconds to minutes, and make it available to thousands of readers, instead of the hundreds at the meet. There’s nothing wrong with that. In fact, in the final analysis, his version of the meet might accentuate the enjoyment and memory of a track meet.