Media Members Making News: Jason Whitlock’s Teary ‘Explanation,’ Jay Mariotti Arrested

Once upon a time, the journalist ideal was that the folks reporting the news would stay out of the news, right? Jason Whitlock and Jay Mariotti haven’t done that this weekend.

Whitlock’s long-winded “Explanation” of his departure from the Kansas City Star live on radio on Friday was, at times, moving, petty, sad, and bizarre, and thoroughly transfixed Twitter, as the lightning rod-like columnist took his lumps, told his story, and shed some tears. Mariotti, reportedly arrested early Saturday morning on what a source told the Los Angeles Times was a felony charge related to a domestic disturbance, will likely be a target for scorn.

But both writers’ actions demonstrate again that neither is above making news that puts their name in a headline instead of a byline.

Whitlock’s “Explanation” was riveting radio because he pulled no punches. In detailing the circumstances that lead him to leave the Star, Whitlock alleged an improper relationship between Star editors, said that Star employees thought they could keep jobs because they knew incriminating details or were close to higher-ups, called the paper’s sports department an “unethical, toxic environment”, and accused the paper of focusing unfairly on Kansas athletic director Lew Perkins in the pursuit of awards. The breaking point, he said, was when the Star refused to run a reference to Yahoo reports on David and Dana Pump, the AAU coaches who were connected to a ticket scalping scandal at Kansas. This was a bridge too far for Whitlock, who refused to write sports columns for the Star after that decision was made.

It seemed, in its most vindictive moments, that Whitlock’s explanation was a purposeful, thorough burning of bridges. It was so intense that he was at one point dropped from the air, perhaps for suggesting an editor was “kissin’ on the neck” of another employee while inebriated at a party. But at the end of his appearance, he choked up when lamenting his departure from newspapers, demonstrated an understanding of missed opportunities for local papers cited legitimate concerns about the news business, and gave great advice to up-and-coming journalists.

Somewhere in Whitlock’s narrative—one fraught with comparisons to The Wire, with Whitlock analogizing himself to troubled cop Jimmy McNulty—there is an essentially good strain of journalism-as-democracy righteousness, one that holds up speaking truth to power and demanding accountability. But, as with many of Whitlock’s views, it is sometimes hard to distinguish it from his self-admitted imperfections, or him from those he covers.

Whatever the fallout from yesterday’s meltdown-slash-breakdown, it’s likely Whitlock will remain a compelling enough figure and writer to command massive sums for his opinions by Fox Sports or other outlets. It remains to be seen whether Jay Mariotti will be so lucky.

Mariotti’s brand of fiery polemicism has made him a villain to more than a few, and to a degree that his firing by the Chicago Sun-Times could be used as a marketing gimmick. But Mariotti, the poison pen everyone loves to hate, as an alleged perpetrator of domestic violence? That will open the floodgates.

And, if the allegations are true, it is hard to imagine a felon getting to be righteous about wayward athletes’ “credibility” and “moral compass(es)”; Mariotti, more than most columnists, traffics in spite and vitriol, and it seems inevitable he’s going to get washed by them in turn should sordid details of this case spill.

And maybe that’s fitting: No amount of criticism could stop Mariotti from attacking figures in sports with views carefully selected to get teeth gnashing. If he has committed felony domestic violence, a crime that can certainly get teeth gnashing, there may be no limit to the amount of criticism he takes. (Chad Ochocinco has already weighed in, and Gregg Doyel has all but immolated Mariotti today.)

Both writers will be criticized for being bigger than their bylines, too, but such is the nature of the sportswriter in the ESPN era. Writing the stories without becoming part of them may be the journalistic ideal, but when an explanation of the machinations of a newspaper’s sports department become must-listen radio and a sports columnist’s arrest becomes Twitter fodder, it is clear that stories don’t always begin with ledes or end with –30– anymore.