We Call ‘em Like We See ‘em

“I’m upset that our hometown writers didn’t take care of us. They back-stabbed us.” Mike Scyphers,

Simi Valley High baseball coach

Welcome to the modern age of sportswriting, Mike.

Sorry it took you so long to get here but don’t feel badly. You’re in pretty illustrious company. Such Los Angeles luminaries as Al Davis, Peter O’Malley and even Jerry Buss have had problems accepting criticism from the media.

As the fortunes of both the Dodgers and the Raiders have fallen, both organizations have been surprised and hurt by the tendency of the local media to tell it like it is.

And though the Lakers’ success in recent years has left little room for criticism, it wasn’t always so.

Back in 1981, Magic Johnson spoke out against what he felt was jealousy from his teammates over his fame and fortune.

Wouldn’t you know it, those darn, pesky sportswriters reported every regretful word Magic uttered without protecting the then-unsophisticated 21-year-old Johnson. The result was dissension that ripped the team apart.

When the Lakers subsequently lost to the Houston Rockets in the playoffs, where do you suppose Buss laid the blame? On the jealous teammates? At Magic’s doorstep?

Don’t be silly. If you don’t like the message, blame the messenger.

Buss reran that old line about writers who live in Los Angeles showing some loyalty to Los Angeles teams.

Sound familiar, Mike?

Now your situation was a little bit different, I grant you, but I think your point was about the same. You took your team to a tournament in Florida and got a lot of bad press for your efforts.

There was criticism because you pulled your team out of a consolation championship game when you said you belatedly discovered you already had used up the Southern Section allotment of nonleague games.

The media reported that.

Hershell Freeman, the tournament’s assistant director, said you knew the situation in advance, and you called Freeman a liar.

The media reported that.

Tournament officials claimed to have lost $1,500 because no consolation game was played. You disputed those figures.

The media reported that.

There was criticism of Simi Valley’s behavior in the dugout. Opponents felt that the name-calling and bench jockeying were out of control.

The media reported that.

Your principal, Dave Ellis, backed you and your players.

The media reported that.

So which was the part we shouldn’t have reported, Mike, the criticism, the response or the whole thing? Should “hometown writers” have concerned themselves with wins and losses only?

Or maybe just wins? What kind of a friend would report a loss?

The problem, Mike, is that this “hometown writer” thing could get out of hand. Oh, it is simple enough when you’re back in Florida playing other teams. It’s really simple then to separate the good guys from the bad guys.

But what happens when you come home and play other Valley teams? How then do we figure out which is the home team? Do we favor you over Hart or Crespi? Do we cover the game with two writers, one for each side?

Even if we wanted to take sides, which no self-respecting newspaper would do, whose side do we take? All of our readers don’t come from Simi Valley. And even if they did, no matter how much they want you to win, they also want to know when you’ve lost. And how. And why.

You’ve indicated you have nothing to be ashamed about concerning the events in Florida. So what are you worried about? You’ve presented your side. Isn’t that good enough? Do you need a reporter to shield you?

If you don’t like the message, change it. You’re the one who’s sending it. We’re just relaying it.

You’ve got a job to do and you’ll never find us in the dugout telling you when to hit and run or change pitchers. We’re not qualified.

But we also feel that you don’t belong in the press box. We’ve got a job to do. It’s different and it’s separate.

You’ve probably noticed, Mike, that when we cover your games, or any game, we don’t wear uniforms. Yours or anybody else’s.

There’s a reason for that.