One thing I’ve been paying a lot of attention to lately is how the media works to frame seasons in pro sports around stories. When I use the word “stories,” I mean that literally: The media creates narratives within a sport in an effort to help themselves and us make sense of what we’re all watching and reading about, what we’re following and dissecting.
Any NFL, NBA, or MLB season is an extremely large collection of miniature events. Innumerable collisions between linemen, millions of pitches thrown to batters, countless dribbles off the hardwood…taken individually, it’s hard for us to find meaning in any one of these actions. Collectively, these moments combine to form games, road trips, home stands, and ultimately entire seasons. As a society, we’ve chosen to measure the value of these tiny events only in what they produce, i.e. wins and losses. At the end of the season, one team wins the championship, and the media looks back on the year that was and tries to explain how all of these little moments added up to that big, final win in November, February, or June, the one that culminates in a parade.
The media looks for a narrative that will chart its way through a massive group of unconnected occurrences and tie into a clean, digestible package that’s orderly and logical. Special programs are produced like “How the New York Yankees Won Their 27th World Championship.” The media looks at a huge swath of data points, streams and steams of standard plays and unforgettable highlights, and almost arrogantly decides they can make sense of it all.
The media believes it can explain the unexplainable.
In this way, they aren’t a whole lot different from organized religion. Obviously, human beings have been telling stories for a very, very long time and more often than not, these stories are conceived of as a way for us to make sense of the world and our place in it.
I write fiction. This is what I do when I’m not drinking, watching sports, or posting to this blog. And I know that one of the major dilemmas for an artist is whether or not you communicate to other people what they want to believe is true or what is actually true.
The media, I’d argue, has the same problem. And their goal isn’t necessarily to tell us the truth - it’s to get the most viewers, the most hits on a website, or to sell the most newspapers (if anyone still buys papers).
Most of the mainstream sports media then is far more interested in telling what they deem to be the “best” story (read: gets the most attention) then in discovering and communicating the real truth.
I understand this. It’s why reporters and columnists are more inclined to write articles talking about how CC Sabathia’s failures during the 2007 playoffs were a result of a Cleveland curse than a product of him quite possibly being overworked by the Indians coaching staff during the regular season. It’s why more people read websites like Waiting For Next Year than read Jose Mesa Is Dead and why Bud Shaw, Terry Pluto, and Bill Livingston still get paid by the Plain Dealer.
What I’ve been noticing while watching the start of this NBA season is that analysts, journalists, and studio hosts have already begun creating the narratives that will define this season. After a couple of forty point games, Kenny Smith declared Carmelo Anthony a MVP candidate, and Rick Kamla of NBA TV followed suit. Articles were written on ESPN.com suggesting the same. With Blake Griffin starting the season injured, Brandon Jennings was quickly canonized as the best rookie. Doc Rivers told reporters he wanted the Celtics to be the best defensive team in history - and pretty soon, people were talking about how this Celtics team could be the best defensive team to ever play in the NBA.
The media might describe all of this chatter as observation. I would characterize it differently, however, in creative writing terms as “first act setup.” What the media is doing, really, is setting the stage for what’s to come: Anthony versus Bron versus Kobe versus Wade (and maybe Da-wight) for MVP. Putting Anthony into the equation, of course, makes this year’s story different from last year’s. Talking about Brandon Jennings early on makes the “who should be rookie of the year” debate possible as the season progresses. And Doc Rivers, well, he really just pulled a Lil’ Wayne. Nobody thought Lil’ Wayne was the Best Rapper Alive until he told everyone he was…and then people had something to argue about…and just like that, I’m sure that if the Celtics’ defensive success continues analysts will spend a whole lot of time fighting about whether or not they’re actually the best defensive team in history.
In Cleveland, this year’s storylines are firmly set: Will the Cavs do enough to make LeBron want to stay in town? Do Shaq and LeBron fit? How long will it take for the Cavs’ new additions to gel? How bad are we supposed to feel for LeBron since the terrible Danny Ferry has once again stuck him with a bunch of scrubs and a coach that doesn’t know how to draw up offensive plays?
I might ask a different set of questions: Is Z washed up? Is Shaq too old to be effective? Should Delonte be starting? Should Jamario Moon be getting more minutes? Will LeBron commit to playing off the ball more and in the post frequently? Will he trust his teammates?
Ultimately, we’re all trying to do the same thing: Explain what can often be inexplicable. But just remember that most of the mainstream media is predominately interested in telling the most sensational story; we’re interested in telling the truth.
If that makes us less popular, so be it. I’d rather be forced to eat at Carl’s Jr by myself while writing something I believe in than be given a prime booth at XO for spouting a bunch of lies any day of the week.
