Sports writing then, and now
Technology may have advanced, but some things never change
hen The Manila Bulletin sent its new recruits to cover their beats last year, the paper was fully convinced that as young as these reporters were, they were ready to take on the world.
Months before their first foray on the beat, they received constant briefings from a senior editor, underwent extensive training on news gathering, got lessons on how to deal with sources, how to conduct themselves in public, including how to dress appropriately.
Just so they are not totally awed by it all, a senior reporter continues to guide them, showing them how it’s done during the first few weeks of their apprenticeship.
Before stepping out of the house the new reporter checks to see if his battle gear is complete. In the backpack or handbag are a laptop, a cell phone, a backup phone, a power pack, a notebook, a ball pen, wires for recharging electronic equipment, a change of clothing just in case, an umbrella, and maybe Skyflakes and bottled water should waiting for a source take too long.
Contrast this to when I went to cover my first out-of-town sports event. I carried a notebook and a ball pen. There was no senior reporter to guide me. My only weapon was instincts learned as a former editor of a college paper.
That was some 40 years ago. Back then, of course, there were no cell phones, no fax machines, no laptops—just your trusty notebook and a ball pen which you hoped would not run out of ink. What passed for luxury at that time was carrying around a portable typewriter.
A reporter with a portable typewriter was met with awe. This modern equipment showed that the reporter had been around, knew the ropes, was on first-name basis with sources, and was generally a good writer.
Sometimes event organizers provided a few typewriters, normally conscripted from the secretarial pool, whose occupants reluctantly gave way to harried writers beating that important deadline.
If we didn’t get to type our story, the last resort was to write them long hand, which was why pen and paper were standard equipment.
Writing the story was seldom a problem because that’s what we trained for—but transmitting the story to the desk was a bit tricky.
The first hurdle was finding a phone. Forty years ago, telephones were luxuries. They were very few and most of them were found in wealthy homes, private companies, public officials’ offices, military camps, and public phone booths.
Most of the time, our phone of choice was the public phone booth. As the name implied, you shared it with the public. This contraption no longer exists, but to give you an idea, it’s the same size as the booth where Clark Kent transforms into Superman.
Once inside the booth, you would think it’s now smooth sailing, just like Superman. In fact, it’s just the beginning of a long, sometimes infuriating, struggle.
Here’s why: With finished manuscript in hand, I start calling the office. But I cannot call direct, I have to pass the call through a long-distance phone operator, and that’s not a breeze. The number 0, for Operator, was either always busy or, when I thought I finally connected, the other end would just keep ringing and ringing until, finally, the operator answered.
In my case, I would tell her to call the Bulletin. I would give her the number. She would start dialing. Then, as I got ready to dictate my story, I would hear a sound that was definitely not the sound of music. It was a busy signal from the Bulletin! My sense of anticipation would turn to dread. Deadline loomed.
Can you please try again, I would beg the operator. But, still busy. One more try, still busy, and you struck out. A reporter from a competing paper would take his turn at the booth.
After all, there was just one phone available, in whatever town we were at, for long-distance calls. So if a pack covered an event, the first one to finish his story got first shot at the phone, and so on and so forth.
Because of this setup, the race to finish a story first became almost as exciting as the coverage itself, if a bit more tense. Some reporters tried to get around this by writing only a