|
Tim Graham
Born: July 25, 1971; Lakewood, Ohio
Education: Baldwin-Wallace College '93, BA with major
in sports management, minor in communications
Career: Kent Record-Courier 1991-94, Boston Herald 1994, Lorain Morning Journal 1994-95, Las Vegas Sun 1995-99, Buffalo News 2000-present
Current home: Tonawanda, N.Y.
Honors, positions held: Nevada Press Association, best sports feature
'96, '97, '98, sports column (second) '98,
best investigative news series '99; Knight
Center for Specialized Journalism fellowship,
University of Maryland '99; New York State
Associated Press Association, business news
'03; Missouri School of Journalism Best in
Business Awards, breaking news '03; Boxing
Writers Association of America, best event
coverage '04, best feature '05; Pro Hockey
Writers Association, feature (third) '04;
Associated Press Sports Editors, feature
(honorable mention) '04; American Association
for the Improvement of Boxing's Rocky Marciano
Award for Journalism '06.
Pro Hockey Writers Association chapter
chairman
'05, '06, '07; Boxing Writers Association
of America president '06, '07.
The first fight I covered as a boxing writer: While with the Lorain Morning Journal, I covered local boy Carl Griffith against
Oscar De La Hoya on the undercard of Roy
Jones Jr. and James Toney on Nov. 18, 1994.
First year in BWAA: 1997 |
What makes a good boxing writer?
I've always felt a good writer is a
good
writer, regardless of the subject matter.
It's all about being able to understand
people
and tell a story. When it comes to
sports,
all a writer needs to know is how wonderful
it feels to win, how miserable it feels
to
lose and how hard it is to try.
But with boxing, those notions are
even more
absolute. A writer doesn't need to
know anything
about Cover 2 defenses, the left-wing
lock,
half-court traps or whether it's proper
to
steal second with one out and a low-average
slugger at the plate. Boxing is all
about
the basic human condition-dominance,
pain,
blood, survival, failure. Those are
primal
concepts anyone can understand, so
when covering
a fight, I've always thought it was
my mission
to make the reader feel something.
There
are different ways to do this, but
with boxing
I think it's best to be blunt, to describe
the tension and the emotion, while
taking
every opportunity to be brutally descriptive
of what I see.
The tension of a sports event seems
to drive
me when I write, which is why I've
always
found boxing to be the easiest sport
to cover
on deadline. That comes from the electricity
of a blockbuster bout, the volatility
of
what can happen and the bloodlust of
the
fans.
As for covering the sport away from
the ring,
I believe the No. 1 most important
trait
of a good boxing reporter is to be
skeptical
of everything you are told. Never let
someone
you cover sell you a bill of goods
because
it's frequently in their best interest
to
lie to a writer, who can help them
advance
an agenda. In other sports, it's far
less
likely a team or player will knowingly
give
you bad info because there's a league
to
answer to.
So often, boxing fans need a good reporter
to help them make heads or tails of
the sport.
It's a murky business built on promotion,
grandstanding and propaganda. If you
can
cut through all the B.S. and break
down a
storyline in simple terms, then you've
done
your job as a reporter.
Another aspect that often gets overlooked
in putting a solid story together is
research.
In the Internet age, there's no excuse
for
not mining information that will make
your
story noticeably better than it would
be
if you just did a couple interviews
and relayed
what a couple of fighters had to say
about
their upcoming bout. If you do your
research
properly, when you get done writing
your
story, especially if it's for a publication
with finite space and not the unbounded
realm
of the Internet, you should have decent
material
left over that just didn't make the
cut.
What constitutes a "bad" boxing
writer? What are some "no-nos"
that an aspiring fight writer should steer
clear of?
The most disconcerting trend I've seen
in
boxing coverage lately is the proliferation
of writers who seem to think they're
in the
boxing business, not the journalism
business.
Their motives are to get close to the
fighters,
managers and promoters. These writers
get
a credential to gain entry into camps,
and
then they write about their starry-eyed
experiences.
For people who have studied and practice
journalism, this trend is disgusting.
What it boils down to is ethics and
professionalism.
A journalist cannot accept gifts, travel
arrangements or preferential treatment
from
the people they cover. He or she cannot
blindly
back a fighter because that fighter
knows
the writer's name or his promoter pays
the
Web site. A good journalist cannot
take pride
in being in somebody's back pocket.
Credibility
cannot be maintained this way.
A young sports writer would be wise
to avoid
getting caught up in the trap of the
excitement.
Always appreciate and respect the sport
you're
covering, but your days of being a
rah-rah
fan should be over.
What influenced you to become a boxing
writer?
I took an unorthodox route to sports
writing.
I always had a passion for boxing and
bought
every issue of KO from about 1983-88, but never paid much
attention to the bylines. I only occasionally
read my hometown paper, the Cleveland Plain Dealer. I read general sports columnists Bob Kravitz
(now in Indianapolis) and Bud Shaw and then
went straight to the scoreboard page to pore
over the box scores, standings and transactions.
I went to Baldwin-Wallace College to
study
sports management and work for in a
big-league
front office, but along the way I started
writing for the school paper for beer
money.
That's when I fell in love with journalism.
I had fallen in love with beer years
earlier
.
I went to Las Vegas for the first time
on
assignment in 1994 to cover Carl Griffith's
fight against Oscar De La Hoya. I fell
in
love with the city and, on a lark,
sent unsolicited
resumes to the two Las Vegas papers.
Two
weeks later the Las Vegas Sun called and flew me out for an interview.
The presence of boxing is why I moved across
the country. I covered every fight I could
for the Sun and as a stringer for whoever
wanted me. I contacted Steve Farhood at The Ring, and after a tryout he brought me on board.
That's the moment I first considered myself
a boxing writer.
As far as my boxing influences, they
didn't
come until adulthood. Hugh McIlvanney
is
my all-time favorite boxing writer,
and when
I'm in need of inspiration I crack
open my
dog-eared edition of The Hardest Game. I've never read anybody as consistently
provoking. I've read every article in that
collection at least three times and still
get a jolt after I pick it up yet again.
I also enjoy A.J. Liebling's works, but not
just The Sweet Science. A few shorts from Just Enough Liebling put me in a good place before I sit down
at the keyboard.
A young relative comes up to you and expresses
interest in following in your footsteps,
and becoming a boxing writer. Would you encourage
him/her, or send them to a different vocation?
This is a great question for me to
ponder
because I have a nephew who's of the
age
that he's starting to realize that
what Uncle
Tim does for a living is pretty cool.
He
still has a couple years to go before
he
needs to start thinking about college,
and
I won't push him, but I'm quietly hoping
he comes to me one day and asks how
to get
into the business.
I've found boxing journalism to be
very rewarding.
When I look back on the stories I'm
most
proud of over the years, they've been
about
boxing. I've covered the NFL, big-time
college
basketball and football and currently
cover
the NHL, but I've gotten the most positive
feedback about my boxing work.
Those feelings come as a result of
the things
mentioned above. If you seek to tell
the
truth and can capture the essence of
the
story, then you'll write something
people
will remember. The spirit of boxing
lends
itself to unforgettable prose more
than any
other sport because it's so full of
color
and raw emotion. I feel blessed to
be able
to cover it, and I would love for anybody
to experience what that's like.
Should boxing writers be any more or less
inclined to ferret out problems in the sport
than writers who cover other pro sports?
I think it's the obligation of a boxing
writer
to be a cynic. That doesn't necessary
lend
itself to muckraking, but by being
skeptical,
a good reporter eventually will unearth
wonderful
material others will miss.
Being a muckraker can be fun, but it
also
can impact a person's credibility to
constantly
dog his subjects. It could come off
as the
opposite of the fanboy phenomenon I
discussed
above. I think of Jack Newfield's book
on
Don King and what a scintillating read
that
was. But Newfield never let up in other
works,
and eventually people felt he was peddling
a bulldog agenda. Many people probably
think
the same way about my coverage of Joe
Mesi
for the Buffalo News. The unfortunate aspect of our relationship
was that his camp was always trying to get
away with something - misleading info on
opponents' credentials, lies about TV blackouts,
the failed association with Sugar Ray Leonard
Promotions, the attempted cover-up of his
brain bleeds - and I felt it was my responsibility
to inform the public at every turn. To me,
that's not being a muckraker. There were
other skeletons I could have written about
if I wanted to push it, whereas I got the
impression as soon as Jack Newfield decided
somebody was a bad guy, he rattled as many
bones as he could find.
That said, I don't think that boxing
writers
are any more obligated to dig up dirt
than
other sports writers. I think we all
should
be on the lookout to uncover injustices
regardless
of what sport we chronicle. The recent
flood
of stories on the treatment of former
NFL
players by the league and the players
union
is a tremendous example of hard-hitting
journalism.
We saw some amazing journalism done
by the
San Francisco Chronicle on Barry Bonds and the steroids issue.
The biggest problem we have as journalists
trying to report on boxing's ills is
that
anything we can come up with is generally
met with a yawn from not only our editors,
but also our readers. If I hear "Well,
that's another black eye for boxing,"
I'm going to pull out my own fingernails.
The IBF scandal and the WBC losing
its case
to Graciano Rocchigiani in the late
1990s
should have been major stories, but
they
were blips in the mainstream press.
When
I had cracked the code and unveiled
the names
of all parties listed in the federal
indictment
that outlined the IBF's transgressions
-
it referred to promoters, managers
and fighters
by number only - Sports Illustrated asked me to cover the story for its Scorecard
section in about 500 words. Big whoop.
We need to remain vigilant in exposing
the
problems within boxing because people
are
always trying to get away with something,
although the impact of exposing them
isn't
the same as addressing them in other
sports
these days.
|