Dream no more

Sports have been a major part of my life for as long as I can remember. During my youth, birthdays were spent at hockey games and tickets to football games were considered special Christmas gifts.

More times than not, the rest of my family ate dinner without me because I was out playing basketball or street hockey with neighborhood kids until it was too dark to see. They simply tired of waiting on me and the routine was set – hours after they enjoyed a home-cooked meal, my plate of cold food would be waiting on the table whenever I finally headed home.

And let's not forget draft day. Whether we're talking NFL or NBA it didn't matter, I would be sitting inches from the television with a notebook in hand prepared to write down the name of every first rounder selected, every trade made and any rumors reported throughout the broadcast. It didn't matter that all of this information would be available in the next day's newspaper – I had to have it that second.

In fact, one of the major selling points the recruiter used to get me to enlist in the Army played off of my passion for sports. I was told that the Army has all kinds of sports teams – football, softball, basketball, etc. – and that they also had journalists who traveled with these teams and wrote about their games. Now didn't that sound like something I'd be interested in? Of course it did.

I share this with the class because it needs to be known that my dream has always been to be involved in sports, most likely as a sports journalist. Which is why it pains me to say this, but I don't think I could do it for a living.

Take for example the whole drama going on involving the New York Giants last week. Here you have a football team filled with assholes who love to hear the sound of their own voice. Players such as Jeremy Shockey, Tiki Barber and Plaxico Burress have never turned down a chance to pontificate (or in Shockey's case, say dumb shit) about anything and everything. When you have that many camera-whore players in the city where sports reign supreme … well, you're bound to have an issue arise every now and again.

Which brings us to Michael Strahan versus ESPN reporter Kelly Naqi. The condensed version goes as follows: Strahan has a radio show. Strahan uses said show to question effort by teammate Plaxico Burress. Naqi asks Strahan about his comments. Strahan declines. Naqi goes to Burress to get his reaction. Burress, who knew nothing until now, was understandably unhappy with Strahan's comments. Strahan then gets pissed at Naqi for what he believes is unnecessary drama, goes off on a tirade and proceeds to tell her how to do her job.

In this instance, all the reporter was doing was following up on a story created by the gap-toothed defensive lineman. Strahan brought this all on himself because of his initial comments made on a radio show, and then got pissed when someone had the nerve to ask him and the player in question for further comments. And this is a normal day at the office for a sports journalist.

I was in the Redskins locker room after their loss last week to the Atlanta Falcons. As soon as the doors opened, everyone in the media practically sprinted across the room to be the first to question Redskins receiver Brandon Lloyd after his frustration resulted in a helmet-tossing incident near the end of the game. I am not exaggerating when I say that no less than 30 media members surrounded him as soon as he finished getting dressed and turned around. I was impressed that it took three or four questions for the jackals to bring up Lloyd's helmet.

Once everyone finished and moved on to the next player, Lloyd and I found ourselves walking across the locker room without anyone else around. I said something to him and the next thing I know we're having a one-on-one conversation with no recorders or media types around. I asked him if his journalism background helps him prepare for moments like these, and he smiled, nodded and laughed.

Then I asked him what his headline would be in tomorrow's paper if he were the one writing the story on the Redskins loss. He looked at me and said, "There wouldn't be one. I would never stoop to that level – to be a beat writer." I asked him what he meant and he explained that because almost all of these writers have zero football experience that more times than not, they don't know what they're talking about.

I've thought about his comments for a while now and I agree with him. I mean, if tomorrow I was named a political beat writer in Washington, I wouldn't have the first clue what exactly went into doing the jobs I was assigned to cover. I've worked with the Army for 11 years and there are still countless stories I don't have the first clue about, so I can understand Lloyd's point.

Writers are trying to sell newspapers. Players don't give a damn about newspapers, they just want to win. If a writer fails to ask the tough questions, he loses his credibility. If a writer goes too far in the other direction, he runs the risk of the players shutting him out. What should be a simple relationship suddenly has as many political ramifications as a leaked Donald Rumsfeld memo. And it doesn't need to be that way.

Of course, those in the media typically look down their respective noses at guys like me. They make snarky comments and refer to us as homers or fanboys. But it's funny, I doubt players like Brandon Lloyd would ever be as honest and candid with those in the media as he was with me last Sunday. Maybe it's because I don't have a hidden agenda and I'm not out to sell newspapers. So in the end, I get more of the story than the guy I once dreamed of becoming.

Brian Murphy is the 2005 Defense Department's sportswriter of the year. And he still doesn't know what the hell he's talking about. Contact him at murf@the5holes.com.