A hectic first night at the Star-Telegram

    When No. 3-ranked Texas and No. 12-ranked Oklahoma -- both 5-0 and on their Big 12 farewell tour -- meet Saturday afternoon at the Cotton Bowl, it will remind me of ... 2001.

     Similar scenario, another monumental Red River Rivalry football game.

    But what I remember about 2001's meeting is not the game; it's the night before. Friday, October 5, 2001.

     My first night working at the Fort Worth Star-Telegram. One of the most memorable -- and most important -- work shifts in a five-decade career.

    It would change lives, for Beatrice and me and our kids. 

    As happened far too often, I needed a job. And here was a prospective one.

    Had been in contact with the Star-Telegram sports editor, Celeste Williams, and had an advantage -- a recommendation from a friend with a Shreveport newspaper connection.

    So when Celeste invited me for a "tryout" or "audition," I made the trip from Knoxville, Tennessee -- where we'd been for six years -- through Shreveport (to see my parents) and into a city where the West begins, but where I'd rarely been.

     (Had two other job chances then, in Marshall, Texas -- only 40 miles from Shreveport and the aging Rose and Louis -- and in Orlando, Florida. But neither felt like a fit.)

      It was an unsettling time for us; let's sum it up with "personal problems." But what great fortune the trip to Fort Worth was.

       And what an unforgettable night at the Star-Telegram. I'd never seen anything like it. It was a helluva challenge.

       Worked my tail off that night (we all did); met a whole bunch of strangers, some of whom would become very good friends. Found a staff so talented and so deep (numbers-wise). 

      Had the privilege of working for a sports editor who was wise and organized and loyal, and would become a person we so loved and admired (and lost far too soon). Made our home in an area where I'd always wanted to be, and at one of the most-established newspapers in this part of the country.    

      Had interviewed with the Dallas Morning News sports department in early 1982, and had a brief dalliance with Star-Telegram sports in summer of 1995. Neither was the right time, right place.

      But this time -- early October 2001 -- was my chance. Boom!

---

      The country was in a mess, the September 11 attacks still on everyone's mind. Travel by airplane was still uncertain, so I made the long drive (11 hours to Shreveport).

The tornado-wrecked Tower

     Fort Worth had a visible scar, too -- the many shattered windows of The Tower, the 35-story building a long foul ball away from the Star-Telegram office in downtown. It had been struck by the F3 tornado a year and a half earlier; the talk was that it was going to be demolished (it wasn't). 

     My connection to the S-T was Lois Norder, a managing editor (in charge of terrorism-related coverage) and also editor of the paper's Northeast edition. In the mid-1980s, we had been at the Shreveport Journal; she was a star reporter/writer, and so was her husband, Steve. It was a wonderful time at the Journal.

      So, a Friday night in Fort Worth, and I quickly was amazed at the personnel in the sports department. More than 30 people -- four assistant sports editors, three copy "chiefs" (final proofers, approve or rewrite headlines), a Sunday-section editor, three high-school editors, nine copy editors (like me), eight page designers, three "agate" scoreboard editors ... and later a dozen parttimers to take high school call-in statistics and game details.

     (Came to learn that we had 85 fulltime people in sports, and about 40 "stringers" or parttimers. Not making this up. The Star-Telegram, in the early 2000s,  was what I called "fat" in personnel. And, yes, we were among the best sports sections in the country. The awards received in those years proved that.)

     What an operation it was, especially that night.  (Turned out, there were many nights like this.)

     What made it extra challenging was this: A Barry Bonds "special" section that was pending.

     Bonds, with 70 home runs, needed one to break  Mark McGwire's single-season record (set in 1998).  The San Francisco Giants were playing on the West Coast, and would not start until 9 p.m. our time.

    A four-page section was planned, if it happened.  

    But also there was a 16-page regular sports section, and an eight-page high school section (with three separate "zone" editions). I'd never experienced that kind of volume.

    So when I got the "duty roster," with copy-editor assignments, it was just a bit daunting. 

    Plus, a bunch of strangers around me, and yet another strange computer system to battle.

    Vince Langford was one of the sports copy desk assignment gurus, and a great help. He would become one of my best friends there (and a super talent, with words and sports knowledge). 

     He was sitting closeby, guiding me through stories.  I work quickly, so he kept giving me stories. I hadn't worked in a couple of months, so I was eager, and it was exciting.

       We were waiting on the Bonds saga, but meanwhile, here is the scope of what that night was like, how many stories we worked ...

Sports front page -- Oct. 6, 2001

      -- The Texas-OU advance pages, several stories, a position-by-position breakdown. It was the first Longhorns-Sooners game with both teams ranked in the top five in 17 years (OU was No. 3; UT No. 5); the Sooners were the defending national champion and had a 17-game winning streak, but had squeezed past Kansas State 38-37 the week before.

     -- College football advance stories ... Wendell Barnhouse's whole page of stories (he was covering Florida-at-LSU that Saturday, features (one on Tennessee wide receiver Kelley Washington, who had caught 11 passes for 256 yards against LSU the previous Saturday, a game the kids and I attended in Knoxville; Vols won 26-18. But LSU got even that December in the SEC Championship Game).

    -- It was a Texas Motor Speedway weekend -- a NASCAR Craftsman Trucks race that night, an Indy Racing League 300 on Saturday.

    -- The Dallas Stars played their first-ever regular-season game at the $46 million American Airlines Center, a 4-1 victory against Nashville. So a Jim Reeves column and several stories on the game.

     -- The Texas Rangers were playing a late game at Seattle; the Mariners had beaten them 16-1 on Thursday night (coverage in the Saturday paper). Alex Rodriguez hit his 52nd home run for the only Rangers run; Rafael Palmeiro had two of their four hits. Seattle had a spectacular 114-45 record; the Rangers were only 42 games behind them in the standings.)

   -- The Dallas Cowboys, with Dave Campo as head coach, were 0-3 and getting ready to play at Oakland, and rookie QB Quincy Carter was about to make his first start. (They lost 28-21 that Sunday.)

    -- The Dallas Mavericks were in training camp, with a young owner (Mark Cuban), an innovative head coach (Don Nelson), and three star players (Michael Finley, and two young superstars-in-the-making, Steve Nash and a 7-foot German guy who had a great shooting touch, Dirk Nowitzki.

    -- There was quarter-horse racing at Lone Star Park.

    All these elements had one or multiple stories.

     And then there was high school football. I knew what Friday nights were like in the fall, but this was a mad scramble -- game after game story to work, first-come basis.

    So, about 40 games covered, with 20 full stories to work. I remember editing a Brownwood vs. Stephenville story, not knowing how huge a rivalry that was. 

   All this, and -- while high school games are coming in -- we're watching Bonds' at-bats in San Francisco. 

     Luckily, in the first inning, he hit No. 71 off Chan Ho Park. So, the Bonds special section was in play. More work for everyone. And while we started editing that copy, Bonds hit No. 72 -- again off Park -- in the third inning. More work.

     One memory: The deadline for pages to go to print was midnight. As I recall, we finished up closer to 1 a.m. We were a bit overloaded.

---

     I sat across from a veteran sports department guy named Don Bowman. Didn't take long to realize he was funny, outrageous, knew his sports, was an extreme University of Maryland/Oakland A's/Washington baseball fan, and was talented. We lost him far too soon, and too suddenly.

     As it happened, the desk where I was working was Jeff Wilson's. He was helping with auto-racing coverage that night. He would become a friend, and his talent has him now covering the Texas Rangers and TCU. And one of the S-T's top sports columnists was Gil LeBreton, an old friend from LSU and New Orleans.

     One guy not working that night came in with his kid in a stroller to see his wife (who also worked at the paper). I knew his face, couldn't remember his name. Asked, and -- aha! (Andy Clay) -- I had worked with him in Jacksonville, Florida, about a decade earlier.

      And one funny moment: One of the sports copy editors came up to introduce himself: Jerry Barnes. "Nice to meet you," I said. "Oh, we've met before," Jerry said, smiling. "I was sitting next to you at the [Centenary College] Gold Dome the night you threw the basketball at an official (who was a friend of his)."

      Oops. Yes, in 1979, Barnes was an assistant sports information director at University of North Texas; I was the SID at Centenary. UNT's players that night were beating the hell out of our 6-11 center, Cherokee Rhone. I didn't like it. When the ball came bouncing over the media table right to me, I (not) gently directed back at an official with a (not) soft remark. I was excused from the table. (I have written a blog on that.)

    "Please don't tell anybody," I asked Barnes that night. I think he's tattled on me a few times since. We're still laughing about it.

---

    So, I ended up working some 14 to 16 stories that night ... and made an impression.

    Michele Machado, one of our page designers, laughingly recalled that when the shift was finished, she told people in the department, "That guy will never be back."

    But I knew that I wanted to work at the Star-Telegram, and told Bea that when I got back to Knoxville.

     When the shift ended, I drove to Carrollton where our son Jason was living (he had graduated from LSU and found a job in Dallas -- with travel to Tarrant County -- a few years earlier). Got up the next morning and drove to Shreveport, picked up Dad and we went to the San Jose State-at-Louisiana Tech football game that night, a one-sided Tech victory.

     Meanwhile, OU beat Texas 14-3 at the Cotton Bowl, with the memorable "Superman" tackle by OU safety Roy Williams that resulted in linebacker Teddy Lehman's 2-yard pass interception return near the end of the game clinching the victory for the Sooners.

    In a few days, Celeste called and offered me a position as a "contract" worker, not fulltime. But the pay was good, and we quickly decided to make the move from Knoxville to Fort Worth. 

     That meant leaving our Rachel behind in Knoxville, where she was a junior at the University of Tennessee. It meant being closer to the Van Thyns in Shreveport and even closer to Jason.

      No insurance coverage came with the job, but Celeste promised that the first copy-editor opening she had would be mine. Two weeks later, a copy editor left and I went fulltime, with insurance benefits. Good thing because only a few months later Bea was diagnosed with colon cancer. That insurance was a saver.

      What followed was Bea surviving two surgeries in four years, and a beautiful life still. For me, a decade at the Star-Telegram and a fulfilling end to a career. 

      Lots of good luck involved, and a first night at the S-T to remember.     

Wendell was the best, and so was our boss

"The best newspaper boss I worked for was the last newspaper boss I worked for." 

-- Wendell Barnhouse, about Celeste Williams (Fort Worth Star-Telegram sports editor, 1999-2017).

---

     One of the great pleasures of 45 years in the newspaper business was working with dedicated and talented journalists, and good people. 

     It happened at every stop, but it was especially true in the last decade at the Fort Worth Star-Telegram. 

     Some were more outstanding than others. Wendell

Barnhouse was one.

     I am writing here what I told many people many times: We had the best college football and basketball writer in the country. Wendell proved it every year, darned near every day when he wrote.

     We had a terrific staff in almost every area -- inside (the "desk" people, in newspaper terms -- editors, designers, copy editors) and outside (the writers that the public knew).

     This was all put together by Celeste Williams, the S-T's sports editor for 18 years until cancer took her from us three years ago. Beloved is the best way to put how we all felt about her.

     See Wendell's quote to start this piece. Me, too.

     Just so happens that last Friday -- Oct. 1 -- on Celeste's birthdate, I received from a friend a link to two columns that an 88-year-old ex-sports editor in Columbia, Missouri, wrote about the young Wendell Barnhouse. 

     Our mutual friend, Joel Bierig (whose own productive sportswriting career began at the Shreveport Journal in May 1975), also sent a link to an autobiography that Wendell has written in the past few months to stay busy during the pandemic-restricted months.

     (I am sharing the book link at the bottom of this piece. I recommend it to my journalism friends.)

     The autobiography is very, very detailed, covering every aspect of Wendell's life -- he's 66 1/2  now -- and his career, and there's plenty of commentary because Wendell is never without opinions (what did you expect from a journalist?).

     It is, as with everything he writes, an interesting, complete and well-done effort.

     We were not, I must say, close friends. I knew of Wendell  and had met him a couple of times before I joined the Star-Telegram staff as a sports copy editor in late December 2001.

      Our careers had many similarities. Started at a medium-sized paper writing about kids' stuff (writing our stories long-hand at first, until we were taught better), covering American Legion baseball (loved it!), covering high school athletics, working "inside" as  designers/layout and copy editors, sports editor positions, lots of writing and editing. Moved around -- a lot (Wendell worked in Missouri, Illinois, Arizona, Atlanta and settled in Texas). We were high-strung (you know that), teed off people and got teed off. 

     (See photos of the young Wendell at the bottom of this blog.)

     Big difference: Wendell was a big-time writer covering all the major college sports events (and many others), winning national awards. Me, not so much.

     So we were on the same staff for about 6 1/2 years until Wendell -- sensing that the S-T layoffs which had begun in April 2008 -- were going to keep happening. He took a buyout, ending his 25-year stay at the S-T. This was his last newspaper stop.

      He had come to the Metroplex in 1981, with The Dallas Morning News. There he was a desk man -- a very skilled designer, then a section editor. 

     The DMN, starting in about 1980, had one of the nation's best -- and most respected -- sports sections. After two years of "meat grinder" work, he turned down a chance to become Sunday section editor -- an important role there, an almost-sure step to bigger and better jobs. That led to another move. 

     Through his connection with Bud Kennedy, he joined  the Star-Telegram; Fort Worth's gain, no question. Began as a desk man, became an assistant sports editor, then turned to writing fulltime in 1986 (when the NCAA Tournament Final Four was in Dallas). 

      Among our many talented writers, Wendell was so knowledgeable, so thorough, productive and reliable,  and -- in all my years in newspapers -- the very best "on deadline" (only Mike Strange at the Knoxville News-Sentinel was his deadline equal, in my experience).

      And Wendell's writing was just darned interesting, factual ... and when needed, opinionated. 

     He was, in editing terms, a "clean" read, an easy assignment for us. Few mistakes ... and if you caught him in one, he was appreciative (not all writers were; some would argue almost every word or fact you suggested changing).

      He covered all the major college football and basketball events, and wrote about the newsmakers, trends and controversies. (He did NOT love Bobby Knight ... who the hell did?).      

Wendell with ESPN college
basketball analyst Jay Bilas.

     He especially loved college basketball and here is his tally of NCAA Tournament coverage: 343 games, 26 Final Fours, two women's Final Fours (and one more championship game).

     This is where he really shined. On NCAA Tournament Selection Sunday, every year we had a special section -- 8-10 pages, breaking down all the regions, with analysis, featured players, and sketches on all 64 (or 68) teams. Wendell each year wrote just about every word in those sections. 

     And did the bulk of it "on deadline," in a space of 2-3 hours after the late-afternoon tournament bracket announcement show. 

     It was a tribute to his organization, preparation and work ethic. Can you imagine how hard that was to do?

      He never failed, and it was damn impressive.

      We didn't see a lot of Wendell; he worked from home ... or from all parts of the country. On his office visits -- or on the phone -- was he was very business-like, not chatty, not a BSer (a lot of sports people specialized in those areas). 

      He was, in baseball terms, a "tough out." That could be interpreted as criticism, and to some, it seemed he was standoffish or aloof. But if you knew a little of Wendell's background, a hard-knock early life with challenges, you could understand why he was tough. Plus, he was just a busy guy -- in stressful circumstances. 

       But also, if he had time and you hit on the right subject, he would ease up and talk away. And we knew he was a devoted husband and father ... and a dedicated worker.

      He was only fired once, from the job that followed his Star-Telegram time, as a writer/TV-video host for the Big 12 Conference for seven years. (We could talk about being fired, but we're not going to do that.) 

      Here is how Wendell -- unemployed in 2015 for the first time in 43 years and trying to find ways to find jobs --  described his work attributes on his LinkedIn page:

     "Exceptional writing, editing and time management skills. Thorough researcher, inquisitive interviewer. Organized multi-tasker and task-oriented. Delivers before deadline. Understands importance of collaboration, but can work independently. Keen eye for logic, facts and flow when editing. Customer oriented (the reader being the customer). Innovative problem solver. Understands changing media landscape with experience in social media and video production."

     Yes, indeed. I could not describe it better; no one could.

     Nominally, Wendell is now retired. But I suspect that if he was asked to write an in-depth feature or an analysis or a guest column for a newspaper or web site, he could do it ... today.

---

      Back to Wendell's autobiography. The chapter that most interested me is Chapter Eight, titled "The Best of Times." It is about the 2000s decade at the Star-Telegram and, like Wendell, like all of us who were there, we were proud of our section. 

      We were, in short, as good as anyone in the country, including our Metroplex buddies, the DMN.

     In this chapter, he writes about the D-FW newspaper battles; interesting stuff. With Wendell's permission, I am borrowing much of it in this blog. Because we lived some of it with Wendell.

---

    The Best of Times

     The best newspaper boss I worked for was the last newspaper boss I worked for. ...

      Ellen Alfano was promoted to assistant managing editor and was still overseeing sports. In May of 1999 she hired Celeste Williams to be Senior Editor for sports. For the next nine years under Celeste's leadership, we kicked ass.

     Knight-Ridder owned several outstanding newspapers around the country. When the Morning News opened its Arlington edition in 1996, it laid down a gauntlet. When K-R took ownership of the Star-Telegram, its main goal was to establish the paper’s superiority in Tarrant County and to beat back the challenger from the East. The home office gave the Star-Telegram the resources and marching orders to be the best. We had the right leadership to make that happen.

     Arlington and the areas northeast of Fort Worth were booming in terms of business and population. The Star-Telegram had for years produced zoned editions, with pages of the paper produced for specific suburbs. To combat the DMN, that strategy was placed on steroids. The paper opened and staffed bureaus for Arlington and Northeast zoned editions. Those bureaus included about two dozen writers and editors that focused only on their editions.

     The seriousness of our intentions was displayed in 1998 when the Star-Telegram hired Randy Galloway, the Morning News’ top sports columnist. Galloway had become a major player in the sports scene since becoming a columnist at the DMN in 1982 and then adding a nightly sports talk radio show on WBAP, a 50,000-watt AM station. Galloway was having a dispute with DMN management when Jim Witt, the Star-Telegram’s executive editor, offered him a five-year, $1.5 million deal.

     Damn right we were serious.

     I had known Randy during my time at the Morning News. He had been promoted to columnist from the Rangers beat when the Times Herald shocked the Dallas media world by hiring Skip Bayless, the DMN’s “star” columnist, at the height of the newspaper war. While Bayless was a flake and a jerk, Galloway was a Texan and a newspaper man with no ego. Despite his huge contract, he didn’t “big time” the Star-Telegram staff. He always treated me as an equal and tipped well when I delivered his dry cleaning. (Just kidding.)

     Once Celeste came on board as editor we had the perfect person to guide and direct us. She had the experience and understanding of how a sports department needed to function. She loved great writing and she supported the folks who labored on the desk. Trust me, that’s a rare combo.

     Here’s what Galloway said about Celeste: “The bottom line is she was not just a damn good newspaperwoman, but just a damn good person. There were many times in my column writing that I made some people mad, some people in high positions, ownership positions — I can think of Rangers owners in particular — and Celeste would have to meet with those angry Rangers people.

     “I never asked what went on in the meeting, but Celeste would call, she would say they explained their side, we explained our side, and by the way, I loved the column. That was Celeste.”

     Celeste also loved college sports. It soon became evident to me that starting with college football media days in July, I was going to be going balls to the wall covering the sport. Once the season started, we would meet in her office each Monday to talk about upcoming coverage. Celeste was great with ideas, but she also listened and collaborated. I had learned how to look ahead and plan so that whatever road trips I made produced the most bang for the buck.

     Ellen and Celeste had worked together before and they made a good team. We were probably the only newspaper in the country with two females overseeing a sports department. While there might have been some resentment from a few males on the staff, Ellen and Celeste knew what they were doing, and they were empowered by management to “go for the gold.” They were respected and they earned that respect.

     From 1999 to 2008, we did something I never thought would be possible. We were the equal if not superior to the Dallas Morning News. The work produced by our sports staff – writers, page designers, editors – was prolific and stunning.

     Ellen and Celeste decided that in the annual Associated Press Sports Editors contests for best writing and best sections, we would “play up” and compete in the largest circulation category even though we were eligible to stay in the category that was a step lower. From 2001 through 2007, the Star-Telegram earned Top 10 status six times for its daily sports section, five times for special sections and twice, in 2002 and 2005, it won Triple Crown recognition for daily, special sections and Sunday section.

     Celeste was supportive of my ideas no matter how crazy. Crazy like attending and covering two football games featuring four top-10 teams in cities 475 miles apart.

     (Note: First Saturday in November 2000, No. 2 Virginia Tech at No. 3 Miami, noon EST; No. 10 Clemson at No. 3 Florida State in Tallahassee at 7:30 p.m. EST.)

     For Monday’s paper, I wrote a “tick tock” story that recounted the events and observations of covering two games in one day. Those were the type of unique stories that Celeste craved and helped make us a great sports section.

     Those self-made challenges/assignments that I  concocted during my newspaper career were probably what it’s like for the adrenaline junkies who skydive, scuba, climb mountains or street race. I enjoyed the planning and the challenge of executing the plan. It was exciting but typically left me telling myself: “That was fun, but let’s not do that again."

     During each football season, the quantity and quality of what the department produced was arugably the best in the country. Ellen and Celeste understood how important football was and the weekends in September, October and November revolved around the sport.

     In addition to producing a daily sports section that was often 16 to 20 pages, four days a week the Star-Telegram produced bonus sections.

     Friday was an 8-page weekend kickoff section previewing high school, college and NFL games. Typically, that would include a feature story from me on that weekend’s big college game or a hot-topic trend piece.

     Saturday was an 8-page section devoted to Friday night high school football coverage. And in Saturday’s main sports section, I had a full-page on college football – a column on the big game that day or a trending topic, a 400-word spotlight feature on a player, plus quotes and notes. My guesstimate is that I wrote between 3,000 to 3,500 words for that page each Saturday during the season.

     Sunday was an 8-page section covering Saturday’s college football action. That typically featured game reports on TCU, top Big 12 games, SMU, North Texas and my story from the biggest national game.

     Monday was an 8-page section with stories on the Cowboys game and wrapping up the NFL.

     Considering the incredible shrinking newspapers that exist in 2020, it’s hard to believe that just two decades ago the Star-Telegram sports department basically produced 11 sections a week. The combined page counts of those four days of double sections would almost be equal to the weekday total page count printed now.

     I often wonder if subscribers who enjoyed reading about sports wonder what happened to all the sports coverage.

     Knight-Ridder was a company and companies have stockholders. In the mid-2000s, the rise of digital publishing started to overtake print. While major newspapers around the country remained highly profitable, their profit margins started to shrink. That meant newspaper companies had to start cutting corners. Eventually, K-R couldn’t tighten its belt anymore.

     In 2006, a small fish swallowed a whale. McClatchy bought Knight-Ridder, taking on debt and selling off several newspapers. The Star-Telegram was among the papers it kept. However, it soon became obvious that McClatchy not only cared more about the bottom line than about bylines and deadlines but it also bit off more than it could chew.

     The writing was on the wall. Wes Turner left as publisher. Ellen and Celeste continued trying to fight the good fight, but we had less space for stories and a tighter travel budget. The Bowl Championship Series title game for the 2007 season was in New Orleans, a cheap and easy trip. When I was told that only Gil Lebreton, one of our columnists, would be going to the game and that I would miss my first national championship game since the 1994 season, I started to strap on my parachute."

---

     In our exchange of e-mails the past few days, I told Wendell that I planned to write this piece, use his chapter on the S-T glory days, and that I considered him the best college sports writer in the country. Here is a bit of his reply:

     "Dude, your compliments are humbling. Particularly during that time from 2000 through 2008 when the section was kicking ass. I had the opportunity to work my ass off alongside other folks who were just as talented and hard-working. 

     "You know the old saying that it's hard to fly like an eagle when you work with a bunch of turkeys. ... We were all eagles. It was a rare and memorable time."

---

https://wendellbarnhousebook.pressbooks.com/ 

  

A "fake news" story ... from 34 years ago

     The strangest -- or dumbest -- story of my career in sports journalism happened 34 years ago in Magnolia, Arkansas.
     Why bring this up now? Because it is October 23, and in 1984, that is the date this story appeared in the Shreveport Journal sports section. So, (un)happy anniversary.

     It was about 60 inches of "fake news," long, long before that term became (un)popular.

     What it was, actually, was three young men with grudges accusing -- falsely accusing -- the football program at Southern Arkansas University (yes, the Muleriders) of being out of control.

     Their "sensational" story appeared in the SAU school newspaper, The Bray (great name, huh?), and it -- unfortunately -- was picked up in a much shorter version by The Associated Press bureau in Little Rock. 

     Which is how it came to our attention at the Journal. We did not regularly cover Southern Arkansas athletics, other than perhaps short items concerning Shreveport-Bossier or North Louisiana kids. The Shreveport Times did more SAU coverage -- especially when it was still Southern State College (the name changed in 1976) and when The Times still had an Arkansas edition.
     The Times' bureau writer in South Arkansas did a follow-up story to the AP version (more from that below).
     At the Journal, we thought The Bray story was so odd, so intriguing that our editor suggested we check it out. 

     So it was off to Magnolia, where I had not been in maybe 15 years and only then because I went there with my good friend Casey to visit his grandparents who lived there.

     But I had known several good athletes who had played for the Muleriders, and this 1984 SAU football team had several players from Shreveport-Bossier, so there was a story hook.
---

     OK, for the "unethical practices" cited high up in the story:

     • SAU coaches provided players with a liquid drink mixture during games that included alcohol; included stimulants in sealed packages of pills given to players before games; and discriminated against black players in awarding  scholarships and in treatment of injuries.

     • The team physician, orthopedic surgeon Dr. Thomas A. Edwards of Shreveport, misdiagnosed injuries and scheduled surgery when it was not needed.  

     • The SAU coaches provided players with steroids to encourage strength development and permitted the use of DMSO as a pain-killer before games. DMSO (was) considered an experimental drug by the Food and Drug Administration.

     Let's save a little time here, and quickly sum this up:

     The Bray story was total bullspit.

     None of it was true. It was not worth the paper it was written on.

     Here is the lead of my "special report" story: 

     MAGNOLIA, Ark. -- One of two former Southern Arkansas University football players quoted recently in a story in the school newspaper as saying head coach Steve Arnett and his staff are guilty of "unethical practices" says the story "is totally false."

      He went on to say that his quotes in the Oct. 5 story "were twisted. Anyone who knows Coach Arnett knows that."
---

     As you can imagine, Arnett, Dr. Edwards and the SAU athletic director, W.T. Watson labeled the charges "ridiculous." They all said they were not quoted in the story nor were they interviewed. 

     And it would be quite a stretch to think any coach would approve of alcohol or steroids for athletes, much less do it in an open setting, which is how the story described this situation.
     The player -- African-American -- who in the story accused the coaches of discrimination and made the steroids/amphetamines charges -- had been a starting tackle the season before but had flunked out of school.

     In talking with a couple of the African-American players from Shreveport, they completely rebutted the charges,  dismissing any discrimation by Arnett and his staff.

     One said was the story was "a low shot" and that SAU players considered it "a joke."
      Arnett told The Times that the story was "a cheap shot" and noted that the SAU staff was "particularly angry about the personal attack on Dr. Edwards, who has volunteered his services for so many years to our program."
     The university president, Dr. Harold T. Brinson, noted his concern "about the ethics of an investigative reporter who would deliberately misrepresent the truth in order to try to entrap a medical doctor. It makes me wonder if he has taken liberties with the truth in other areas of the investigation and writing."
     I can answer that: Yes!
---

      So, how did this come about? Because the young men were out to embarrass the coach and the program and because the school newspaper basically was unsupervised. 

      The player who made the charges refused to talk to me, and just to show how weak the story was, four active SAU players were quoted. They were labeled "Jones," "Smith," "Moore," and "Doe." (Can you believe how juvenile that was?) 
      The story was written, and concocted, by a 34-year-old sophomore who had been on the SAU campus for only a couple of months. The school newspaper editor was a former SAU football player who dropped off the squad after he did not receive a scholarship.

       My recollection of conversations with the writer:

       Before the trip to Magnolia, I twice talked with him by phone, and twice he cut the talk short by hanging up. I did track him down on campus and we sat -- in the school cafeteria, as I remember it -- and discussed the story.

     He was a wimpy, little guy -- like me? -- and he walked with a limp because, as he told me (it is in my story), his right leg had been amputated below the knee five months earlier.
     He had admitted that he made a visit to Dr. Edwards' office to have his left knee examined. And it was clear from our conversation that he was not happy with that visit.
     He admitted that he told Dr. Edwards it was hurting from an old college football injury from years before (we came to find he never played; to see him in person, that was no surprise). But Dr. Edwards, in his examination, did find loose cartilege and suggested surgery as an option.
     The writer also consulted his personal physician, who rebutted Dr. Edwards' opinion and said surgery was not needed. (Read on.)
     In an interview with the hometown Magnolia Banner-News, the writer claimed  "we documented ourselves very carefully and the story speaks for itself."

     Of course, that too was bullspit.

     As the great, late Jerry Byrd would have said, the kid was "clueless, clueless, clueless" about real journalism.

     And with me, he turned beligerent.

     From my story ...

     When asked why he did not confront Arnett and Dr. Edwards with the charges and if he considered accusations from anonymous players as "documented" evidence, [writer]  angrily said, "If you are going to take this tact, I don't have anything else to say to you. You're being very antagonistic with your questions. You take your job and go elsewhere with it."
     With that, he got up and stalked off. End of that talk. 
     A day or two later when I called to speak to the school newspaper editor, the writer answered the call and said, "he has been given your message and he doesn't want to talk to you.

    "No member of The Bray wishes to speak to you," he added. "We do not want to be part of a biased, slanted, sensationalized story. You print it and we'll have our attorneys look at it."

    Pressed for the name of his personal physician, he dodged the question repeatedly. Finally he answered, "Non-dairy coffee creamer. Print that."

    I did.      

---

    Of course, the story caused consternation for the school, the head coach and staff, athletic director, Dr. Edwards and the community. It was the talk of that small town for a little while, but -- naturally -- an investigation by the university's athletic committee turned up ... nothing.

     Those people also realized it was all a crock.

     Don't believe there was any follow-up to the story, and SAU's football program continued on without reprecussions.

     What I remember most was the writer's haughty, ugly attitude and talking with the woman who nominally was in charge of the school newspaper. She maintained she had no role in this, though, and as I recall (but could not find), I wrote a separate story on the lack of supervision of the school paper. 

      Nor did I keep a copy of my 60-inch story. Could not even recall the date. But I remembered doing it because it was such a strange, bizarre -- and dumb -- tale. 

      But with help from Donna McCloy in charge of archives at the SAU Library, we found the date of The Bray article and then the good folks at the Shreve Memorial Library -- which has microfilm of Shreveport Journal papers -- found my story, copied and sent it to me.   

     It was fun reading it again. It was worth the trip to Magnolia and, of course, at the Journal, we had the freedom to write as long a story as we needed. 

     This certainly was more than a fake news story deserved.
     Do not know -- and don't care -- what happened to the writer and school paper editor, but I hope they did not choose journalism for a career. 

     Coach Arnett, who had been defensive coordinator at SAU for three years before becoming head coach in 1982, had modest success in four seasons (20-18-2 record), and resigned after the 1985 season, little more than a year after this story. 

     In a small-world development, when I went to Jacksonville (Florida Times-Union) a few years later, the head coach at Gainesville High School, starting in 1989, was ... Steve Arnett. Same guy. 

     Had no occasion to visit with him or phone him. But we could have had a good mutual remembrance. And we would have agreed that we knew one BS story when we saw one.

Getting the names right (well, not always)

     When I hear or see the phrase "mistakes were made," if it pertains to journalism, I think of two names: John David Crowe and Charles McDaniels. 
     Make note of them. There's a catch. Get to it in a moment. 
     When I read a story or a book -- especially in the sports realm -- and I see a name that is misspelled or a fact that is obviously wrong, it reminds me that accuracy counts ... a lot.
     Personally, there have been some big misses, some big -- pardon the language -- dumbass moments. Easy to remember.
     Pointed out in a previous blog how once upon a time, I mixed up the names of coaches at the same school (Taylor for Turner at one, Sardisco for Cicero at another). Hey, it happens. 
     I recently saw segments in a couple of books that pertained to two of Woodlawn High School's greatest athletes, Mr. Bradshaw and Mr. Parish, which prompted this blog piece. 
     Saw some fact errors -- plenty, in fact, especially on names in a book published on Terry this year (I had several written and phone exchanges with the writer). Bugs me. 

Drop headline and top of the game story from the
1953 Byrd-Springhill game which Bill McIntyre of
The Shreveport Times considered the best high
school football game he covered. But "Crowe"
is incorrect.

     But then ... let's go back to the top, to those names -- Crowe and McDaniels. 
     They are wrong; they are misspelled. 
     People from Springhill -- and most old North Louisiana football fans -- will recognize them instantly. They are two of the greatest running backs ever from the old Springhill High School, the Lumberjacks.
     (The school now is called  North Webster High -- a consolidation of kids from Springhill, and the disbanded Shongaloo, Sarepta and Cotton Valley high schools. They even changed school colors and team nicknames. What's worse, it's the Knights ... even though North Louisiana already had some Knights.)
      OK, back to Crow and McDaniel. Those are the correct spellings. 
      The late John David Crow, a legend -- who went on to Texas A&M (and the Heisman Trophy) and the NFL and a terrific coaching/administrative career.
      Charles McDaniel, the legendary "Quick Six" who went on to an outstanding four-year career at Louisiana Tech and was an NFL Draft pick. 
      Here is the catch (and I have known this for years, but because of my first newspaper allegiance, I am just now publishing this fact, admitting it): Throughout their years at Springhill High, The Shreveport Times sports department never spelled their last names correctly.
      It's true. 
      In 1952, when John David Crow as a junior led Springhill to its first state football championship, and again in his great 1953 senior season -- when he was among the nation's top college recruits -- he was always Crowe in The Times. 

 Class AAA All-State story, 1970: McDaniels is there.

      And in 1970, the first year many high schools and their football programs in North Louisiana were largely integrated, McDaniel emerged as a running back who was a threat to  break for a touchdown any time he touched the ball ... thus, a "quick six."
      But all season, he was McDaniels in The Times. You can look it up. I did because that's what I remembered and I wanted to verify it.
      I wrote a lot about him that season, including the state semifinals loss (to Hammond) at Springhill's stadium, located just a couple of first downs from the Arkansas/Louisiana state line.
      In fact, I'd like to take credit for the "Quick Six" nickname. However, that is a stretch.
      What happened was that in the Nov. 8 game story on Springhill's 27-0 victory against Jesuit-Shreveport at Captain Shreve Stadium (a rare Saturday night regular-season high school game), I wrote that future opponents should "beware of the Lumberjacks' "quick six" gang, halfbacks Charles McDaniels and James Harris. They can score on you, and it doesn't take long."
      So not Charles specifically.
      Apparently, the name caught on at Springhill High. Someone, some group -- maybe the cheerleaders -- liked it, and pinned on McDaniel alone. The next week, we heard there were "Quick Six" banners strung at the Lumberjacks' game.
      From then on, he was "Quick Six." He wore jersey No. 36 that season at Springhill, but at Louisiana Tech for four years, he -- appropriately -- wore No. 6.
     As a freshman, he broke the Tech  record for points in one season (104, 17 TDs and one PAT catch), broke it three years later, and scored 52 career TDs (some "quick sixes").
      A puzzling aspect of the misspelled names: In 1952, The Times' main prep sports writer was Bill McIntyre, who a decade later became sports editor/lead columnist and -- full disclosure -- was my first boss there. He was an excellent journalist and writer, but, well, he missed on John David Crow's name.
     In 1970, I was a guilty part on McDaniel(s). Did have company; the rest of the writers who covered Springhill that season also missed it.
     Even in the All-State stories, the names are spelled Crowe and McDaniels. In the late Jerry Byrd's book Football Country, where he lists All-State teams near the back, it's McDaniels in 1970. But he did have Crow in 1952 and 1953.
     Can't understand this: Apparently no one from Springhill ever called to correct matters, in 1952-53 or 1970.
     And, I'm thinking that the names were misspelled on the Springhill rosters that were provided to us, on preseason forms and in game programs. Plus, the coaches (Billy Baucum was head coach in 1952-53, Travis Farrar was in 1970) never said a word.
     How's that for an excuse?
     Anyway, when John David showed up at Texas A&M for the 1954 football season, he was Crow. When "Quick Six" came to Louisiana Tech in the fall of 1971, he was McDaniel. 
     So, on Crowe and McDaniels, mistakes were made. And, for every co-worker that I scolded, or yelled at, or hurled an object their way (plus some nice language), because they messed up a fact or a name (or a bunch of names), I apologize -- again.
     I was going to list the names and the newspapers, but I don't have enough space.
     There were mistakes/omissions, too, in the book Survivors: 62511, 70726 about my parents and my family, and I received corrections/clarifications that I posted on the book's Facebook page.
     Mistakes are made. Can't always hide from them.