It's OK to Love a Sports Writer

I couldn't find a relevant banner photo, so I'm using this one because we look happy.

I had a cool experience recently. My sports fan alter ego on Twitter (@RallyLamb) has been slowly picking up traction. I set up the account because I wanted to interact with local sports fans, but I didn't want those of you who follow me for my writing on parenting to suddenly get hit with 100 hot takes per game for 162 baseball games. On a summer evening last year, I got an alert that made my heart jump a bit. My favorite sports writer, Susan Slusser followed me. Look, it’s a small thing, but it’s one of the reasons I do any of this. I don’t make much money from writing. I started because I just needed to do it, it’s my heritage. Later, as I gained a small audience I was motivated by the opportunities I had to meet cool people and do cool stuff. Being followed by a writer I’ve been reading for over twenty years, less than four months into creating this account, was pretty cool. Then I saw that I had a DM, “Hi there, I’m looking for people to talk to for a story on the new ticket strategy and liked your response - would you be ok with a quick interview by phone?”

Dude! Susan Slusser wanted to talk to me for a story! I was in the driveway at the time and my wife came out to the front porch like, “Hey, why are you dancing?” Uh, because I’m going to get to talk to Susan Slusser, that’s why. (I had also gotten an RT from Dan Szymborski at the same moment so I was definitely winning Twitter that day.)

I forget how long it was until we did the interview. I know I spent the whole time rehearsing and editing my fan boy speech. I wanted to let her know how much her writing had meant to me over the years. How much I appreciated her work during the Twitter era, during most of which I was an out of market fan and relied on her reporting as my lifeline to the team. Once the interview was done, I half asked/half warned her that I was going to geek out for second. I told her about how much I respected her work and her career, she had also been president of the Baseball Writers Association of America (the people who vote on the Hall of Fame). I worry now that maybe I was being presumptuous of her experience, because I talked about how part of my admiration was due to my mom having been a journalist and knowing what she went through and how much harder I thought that might be in sports. I talked about how I thought it was super cool that my home team had four women covering them regularly (shout out Ann Killion, Melissa Lockard and Jane Lee). Maybe I over did it on the rah-rah women in sports feminism, but I was feeling it and I didn’t know if I’d ever have another chance to let her know how cool she is.

I guess I did OK as an interview subject. Susan (I call her that because according to my son, we are now close personal friends) sent me a message to let me know I’d be featured in the article. I was happy, but didn’t expect the first sentence to read, “As a sign-language interpreter and teacher with three children, Roberto Santiago figured season tickets for a sports team would be out of his reach.” So yeah, that was really cool.

Over the course of the season we tried to find a time to meet in person, but it never worked out. After all, when she’s at the game, she’s at work. It’s hard to visit anyone at work and I never wanted to be a bother. We were finally able to make it happen this season. Again, I didn’t want to bother her, or act like she owed me her time so I waited until I had a copy of her recent book so that when I reached out, I could at least show that I was supporting the cause. Yes, it’s still asking for her time while she’s working, but at least it’s a conversation starter.

She came down to the concourse to meet Buddy and I between innings. She was gracious and just as cool as she seems. I grew up around notable people, mostly writers and musicians, but I still get a little giddy meeting someone for the first time after reading them for so long. It was after this meeting that my son went on a routine about how we were all now totes BFFs and we should expect Susan at pizza night. He’s hilarious that way.

One thing that stands out for me in this experience is how we see sports writers and how they see themselves. Along with the book, I asked Susan to sign a baseball. She said she doesn’t like signing balls, that it seems weird because she doesn’t play. She agreed to sign for me because I’d also had the book. (See, I knew having the book as an opener was a good call). Throughout this whole experience, I kept thinking about the Seinfeld episode where George is asked who he reads.

  

Mr. Lippman: Who do you read?
George: I like Mike Lupica.
Mr. Lippman: Mike Lupica?

George: He’s a sports writer for the Daily News. I find him very insightful…

 Mr. Lippman: No, no, no. I mean authors.

I always loved this scene because of how it depicts the difference between what “literary” people consider writing, and what people who read consider writing. My favorite “authors” are mostly academics. Have you read any Dorothy Smith or William Labov? They rule. But if you ask me who I like to read, it’s a lot of sports writers. I’m super into Bill Barnwell. I really like reading Zach Lowe’s breakdowns of specific plays. I am dependent on Susan Slusser to keep me connected to the A’s. This was especially true when I lived in D.C. The A’s don’t get a ton of national attention even when they’re good, so it was Slusser and SFGate.com that kept me up on my home team. Most years I’d send a tweet to her at the end of the season thanking her for helping us transplanted fans stay abreast.

So right, she doesn’t play. She’s never taken a swing or recorded an out for the team. But to us fans, she’s as much the face or voice of the team as any player or manager. Really, she’s been even more a part of our experience of the team than any of the PsTBNL or managers who are hired to be fired. Slusser has been with us for twenty years. Can we say that about anyone associated with team other than Ken Korach or Billy Beane? Sure, the reporter isn’t the story. It’s only recently that journalists have become personalities, and even then that’s mostly screamers on TV. So no, we don’t know Susan Slusser outside of the glimpses we get through social media. We know a hell of a lot about the A’s because of her reporting, and I think it’s folly to try to completely separate the story form the story teller. In many ways, Susan Slusser is the A’s for us because she’s the source of most of our information about what’s happening with the team. So for me, meeting her was just as exciting as meeting any player past or present.

Susan Slusser is one of my favorite writers, and that’s as legit as anything else.

Dignity in Defeat: Beyond Sports Hot Takes

Graphic courtesy of People's Choice Printing

9.6 Seconds

That’s how much time was left on the clock when the Warriors called their last time out. Somehow, someway they had managed to force a turnover down just one point with the season on the line. As they huddled up to discuss what might be the game’s final play, I looked at my son and thought about what I wanted him to know in that moment.

It had been a tough series for the Warriors. Kevin Durant, one of the best players in the game had played only 12 minutes in 5 games and was out again, this time for good. Klay Thompson, the cool hand Splash Brother who had put up 30 points was out with a serious knee injury. Gritty big man Kevon Looney had played three games with torn cartilage in his ribs. But here they were, with a chance to win or go home and the best shooter in the world at the ready.

On the broadcast they put up a graphic showing that Curry was 0 for his life on game winning shots in the last :20 of regulation. Winning this game was less than certain. If they lost, how could I soften the blow for my son?

He looked panic stricken. “Hey, Bud.” I said, “Isn’t this cool?” I was channeling Joe Montana during the last time out of the 1981 NFC Championship game. He looked unsure. “I mean look, no matter what happens on the next play, we’ve seen an amazing series. And this is what sports fandom is about. It’s not just about the plays or the wins and losses, it’s about right now. It’s the anticipation of this moment, not knowing what will happen. It’s about possibly seeing something amazing, and hoping for a miracle. Think about how you feel right now, the tingle. We might be about to see an amazing shot that sends us to game 7. Or we might see the season end with a clank. But whichever it is, we get this moment right now.”

And it’s true. Being a fan means experiencing more disappointment then elation over a lifetime. Your team can’t win a championship every year. In every season there’s 29 to 31 fan bases that don’t get what they hoped for. But winning really isn’t everything. The chance to see something inspiring is what makes even the losses worth watching. Sports isn’t just Twitter hot takes and bragging rights. It’s about having 9.6 seconds to dream of the impossible.

IDL and Lou at a Warriors game in November 2018

Hardcore Parkour!

Great job everyone! Can't wait to see all of you soon! Train safe! ~Raul
Posted by SF Parkour on Monday, January 15, 2018

OK, I bet there's like a million blog posts with the same title. Whatevs, dude. I'm going with it.

Hi! It's been a while. I basically went into a bunker at the start of last semester, and haven't emerged until recently. I spent 60 hours-a-week at work trying to make things work as the lone member of an academic department. It didn't work. I'm no longer in traditional academia, which I'm sure I'll write about at some point, but for now I've taken about a month to reacquaint myself with my family. I'm also getting to see some of the friends I allegedly moved back to California to hang out with.

One of those friends is an actual good parent who, unlike me, has made time to sign her kid up for actual activities. She's an awesome mom, I look up to her. Our sons are six-weeks apart in age and we've been friends since right before her and T were preggo-buddies. Knowing I had more free time on my hands, she reached out about a beginners parkour class hosted, by SF Parkour. Her son had been wanting to try it for ages, but it always conflicted with football. (See, she like, does stuff for her kid other than tell them to play in the yard while doing seemingly endless piles of laundry. I mean, I'm sure she does piles of laundry, she just is able to do other stuff too. I'm not.) Bonus: it was being held at U.C. Berkeley, just a short walk from home.

Kids learn hand position for forward roll

I have always been surprisingly athletic. This isn't to say I've ever been a star at anything, but I'm not much to look at physically so the athletic success I've had has generally been surprising to almost everyone. Over these early years of parenthood I have come to realize that my kids do not share this trait. Not that I've given up on them, or that they shouldn't continue to pursue all manner of athletic pursuits, it's just that moving doesn't come naturally to them. Of course, I blame myself for encouraging their more sedentary/nerdy pursuits. It's a lot easier to clean the kitchen when one is reading and the other is working on endless art projects than it is from a playground. And it's not that I haven't tried. There have been plenty of times when my little ones have gone tearing through the house wrestling and screaming, only to see them sit quietly in the tunnels of the play structure, refusing to move once we arrived at the park. Whatever the reasons, my kids have two left feet, two left hands, and possibly two left eyes. But I'd always wanted to try parkour and I wanted my kids to hang out with my friend and her athletic prodigy of a kid. (I'll add, her kid is also really smart and very good natured. He's basically perfect.)

The class wasn't aimed at kids, but it wasn't not for kids. It was open to literally anyone and that's who seemed to show up. The age and ability range was significant and the instructors were game to teach all of them. I can't say enough about how cool these instructors were. They were patient and generous with every single person who attended. The class started with a warm up and then moved into teaching some basic parkour moves. "HARDCORE PARKOUR!" my kids yelled, a phrase they had picked up from The Office clip I'd shown them the night before. "HARDCORE PARKOUR!" exclaimed while failing to execute a single summersault that didn't involve slamming head-first into the ground. "HARDCORE PARKOUR!" yelled Lou, well after she had abandoned the activity in favor of sitting in the shade and eating a Cliff Bar. Gotta love 'em.

The truth is, it didn't matter if the kids were any good at parkour. In fact, we spent some time before and during emphasizing that they shouldn't expect to be good at it yet. It was their first attempt, learning takes time and repetition. By the end of the day Buddy was doing pretty well vaulting over the wall and rolling down the hill. The instructors, with some help from dad, convinced him to embrace the process of learning instead of the result of his initial attempts. Once he realized he could be successful at the process of learning, executing discrete tasks and then combining them into a fluid move he improved rapidly. (He also stopped comparing himself to other students, which is something I emphasize with him, and my own classes.)

As we all walked back to our house for PB&J and an extended play date, both of the older kids said they enjoyed the class and wanted to do it again. I also had a great time learning the basics, though I am sore in ways I am not familiar with. So if you're looking for a fun day with the family, or on your own, I recommend looking up SF Parkour. They also mentioned other parkour meet up groups in the East Bay and around Nor-Cal, but I don't remember them all. SFPK is a good start, and I'm sure they can point you towards groups in your area.

HARDCORE PARKOUR!