Saturday, May 26, 2012

SPORTS ILLUSTRATED SUED FOR $10 MILLION

A man sits in the newspaper coffee room.  His fingers message his forehead.

"Hey Boss," I say as I walk in.  "You got to get more sleep."  I reach for the coffee pot.  "Or, drink more of this coffee." I hold the pot up to the window.  "I think this is coffee?"

"Leave me alone Belair.  I got problems.  Besides that's decaf."

"Decaf?  Save me, please."   I pour half a cup, and sit across from him.   "Come on.  Can't be that bad.  Ask yourself, what's the worse that can happen?"

"Don't you have a column to write, or something?"

"Did it, Boss.  Basketball player suing Sports Illustrated.  It's a peach."

"We gotta find some way to make some money around here.  Paper's slowly going broke."

He takes a deep breath.

"We're losing money every day.  It's the long term future of the newspaper business.  But, for right now, we gotta problem."  He looks up.  "We could just cut out the sports section.  That might work."

"Try that, and you'll have no sales at all."  I shake my head, " Sports and the crossword puzzle's the only reason people buy the thing.  Most get their news online today.  Right?"

"The Valley Post Picayune has been around since 1909.  I'd like it to last."

"Heck," I say.  "We could turn this paper into tabloid, like TMZ.  You know, but in paper form.  Like the New York Post."

He sits back.  "You want Jerry Springer in print form?"

"Maybe not that far."  I wave my hand.  "This is what my column's all about.  I don't know, but it looks like Sports Illustrated is doing just that."

"Sports Illustrated?"

"It's a fine line, Boss.  Write about the ugly truth behind the scenes, or present complete lies, out right fabrication.  The latest is an appalling story.   It's about Reeves Nelson, guy used to play basketball for UCLA,  but it's also an indictment of UCLA itself.

"Now, Reeves is fighting back.  He says that the story in the magazine made him less acceptable to the pros in the latest NBA draft.  It cost him money.  So, he wants $10 mil."

"But, Sports Illustrated?"  He sits up.  "They're not going to print anything that's not true.  They have investigators, who re-check everything."

"And they have the same problems with revenue we do," I said.  "They've lost ground to ESPN The Magazine."

I move over to the Mr. Coffee, dump the decaf, and fill the pot with water.

"They have to make the story look legit," I say.  "They find a Pulitzer Prize winning author, for credibility, Geoerge Dohrmann, an athlete that has some very major shortcomings, Reeves Nelson.  And a story that's sleazy enough to attract readers.

"Story says he piled another player's clothes on a bed, and urinated on them.  Players say it never happened.  The lawsuit includes declarations from 18 UCLA players and ex-players who say it never happened.

"Maybe the story is true," I say.  "Best player on the team,  Reeves, covered with weird tats, I mean Matt Barns, Kenyon Martin, Chris Anderson Tattoos.   Tats of a gun, an hand grenade, and an open switch blade. Tats that say I'm a thug, and I'm violent. "

Mr. Coffee beeps.  Coffee, real coffee this time, is ready.  I pour a full cup.

"So," I say.  "Coach Howland kicks him off the team.  He goes to Latvia, and plays in the Lithuania Basketball League for two months, then quits.  Shows real stability."

I sit back down.  I know the Boss is listening, he's actually looking up at me. 

"Okay," he says.  "But..."

"Sports illustrated isn't stupid.  They knew there would be a reaction to the story.  If they get sued, so be it.  They will drag out the court case, or pay off Reeves.  They make more money in the long run with all the added free publicity."

"I don't know,"  he says.  "Just to make more sales they wouldn't jeopardize their credibility?  Must be some truth in it."

I swirl my coffee.  "Strange, that story came out just a week before national signing day.  Was it an attempt to  keep the best high school players at home instead of coming out here to sunny California?"

"Okay Belair.  I hear what you're saying.  But what if we get sued.  Sports illustrated has the money."

"Maybe the NBA threw some money Sport Illustrated's way to demean players with excessive tattoos, trying to clean up their thug reputation?"

I sat back in the chair.  "Could East Coast people,  Eastern and Southern Conferences people, be paying in some way for such an article?  Against UCLA?  You never know."

"Is this Reeves ready to play in the NBA?" he asks.

I sip my coffee.  "Not yet.  The article makes Reeves about as unlikable for the NBA as you could for a new player.   Let's see.  Are you a discipline problem?  Check. Are you covered with Psychopathic Tats? Check.  Do you have  problem taking direction?  Check."

"Do you have illegitimate children by different woman?"  he says.

"Hey," I say.  "You know a little bit about the NBA."

He raises his eyebrows.   "So," he says. "To sum up. You want us to become a tabloid.  Print scandal, and sleaze instead of real news?  What if we get sued?  $10 million dollars?  For the record, moving forward, your idea is not the appropriate direction."
 
"Hey, I'm just a hack sports writer.  What do I know from marketing.  That's why you're the boss, Boss.  Just trying to help.  Maybe a bake sale, some sort?  I don't know."

He leans again over the table and holds his head.  "Don't you have a column to write, or something, Belair?"
.............................


Help comes from:

insurancejournal.com/news/west
collegebasketballtalk.nbcsports.com/2012/05/23/reeves
aol.sportingnews.com/ncaa
WikiPedia/Latvia,/Nelson Reeves,/
Google/Images,/  readabilityformulas.com/

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