It's a sad week for journalism. As newspapers around the country are fading away and most others downsizing, true journalism is slowly being sucked out of the world.
I've been in television for nearly 20 years, but I have never considered myself a journalist. I'm a broadcaster. The true journalists are the writers.
It's the rare art form of taking a blank page and turning it into something. It's entertaining or enlightening, not with a microphone or an instrument, but with written words. Remember those?
It felt like the world hired Muhammad Ali to punch me right on the chin, when I learned of the retirement, forced retirement, see ya we can no longer afford you, whatever you want to call it involving Hall of Fame baseball writer Hal McCoy.
For some unfortunate reason, there is often a gap in personalities or interaction between writers and broadcasters over the years. I for one have always fought against it. I'm a knowledge seeker, so why not talk to the knowledge givers, the beat writers and columnists.
When we needed an interview with meat, something meaningful, Hal was always there. He never turned
us down.
When something in the baseball world needed a Hall of Fame-caliber opinion, Hal was there. When we painstakingly had to fill time during rain delays, Hal was there. Even though he knew he was our "built-in, time filler!" And even when there was no face time involved on television, Hal was there.
When TV boy strolled up to clarify a story or a piece of information, Hal was there. Even when there would be no television face time or any mention, Hal was still there.
And when the grind grew long, and you needed a laugh or two, Hal was there. Top shelf writer for sure, but an even better person, which is saying a lot. His personality and wit was always there.
And I guess that's what saddens me most, the simple fact that come 2010, Hal won't be there.
What happened to the world? How can journalism, the foundation of policing the world's values, be fading away or pushed to the side?
Even though I'm a gadget geek, most of me longs for the days back when....when the true journalists showed up on most everyone's doorstep in the morning. The newspaper, remember it?
I remember it. And for a generation, few have doneit like Hal. His creative fingers have chronicled the history of Major League Baseball's oldest team for thousands upon thousands of loyal readers. For some, he's the only writer they know.
Time brings change, we all know this. But some things we always take for granted, until they happen for real, like Hal not being there. There will be a day when I look down at press row and the old guy with the cigar won't be there. That's the day I hope my chin is tough enough to take the world's punch.
Jim Day