Tag: sportswriting

The recent death of long-time college football coach Lou Holtz on March 4 stirred a lot of memories for me. Not all of them happy.

I’m ashamed to admit it was the biggest failure of my professional career.

Lou was University of Arkansas coach when I graduated college in 1978 and took a sportswriting position with the Southwest Times Record in Fort Smith.

So, I joined the SWTR staff in the wake of Arkansas’ stunning victory over OU in the 1978 Orange Bowl. Lou Holtz was riding high as Arkansas coach.

The 31-6 upset of the Sooners by the Lou Holtz-led Razorbacks turned him into an almost mythical hero among Arkansas fans. He had become head coach before the 1977 season, replacing Arkansas legend Frank Broyles, who retired from coaching to assume a full-time role as Athletic Director.

After that first season success, Coach Holtz became a much-sought after speaker across the nation. He even made an appearance on the Tonight Show with Johnny Carson.

I saw that appearance and was amazed by Lou’s magic trick where he tore up a newspaper, wadded it up and then unfolded the wad into a fully restored paper.

I’ve seen Holtz do that trick countless times over the years, and I never figured out where he stashed the paper that replaced the one he tore up, or what happened to the shredded pages.

Anyway, for the first couple of years at the SWTR, my main roles were covering high school sports and doing layout on the sports desk. Eventually, I began attending selected Arkansas home games and writing sidebar stories to the main story written by our Sports Editor.

But in roughly 1982, I became Sports Editor, a position that afforded the opportunity to cover the Razorbacks on a more in-depth basis. For instance, I usually drove to Fayetteville on Tuesdays to attend practice and get some interviews with Lou and certain players for pre-game features.

I wouldn’t say that I was a full-time Razorback beat writer, but I covered all home games for the 1982 season, as well as the season-ending SMU game in Dallas and the Bluebonnet Bowl victory over Florida in Houston.

All that led up to August 1983, when I was preparing the paper’s annual football preview special section, which a lot of newspapers publish annually.

I’m not sure of the date, but an SWTR photographer and I drove to Fayetteville to interview Lou for our tabloid cover story. He welcomed us into his office and we sat down for the interview.

Almost all of my questions were total softballs, asking about certain players he expected to lead the team and looking forward to upcoming games. But near the end of the interview I asked him about the fact that despite all of his success at Arkansas he had not led the Hogs to the Cotton Bowl as SWC champions.

That set Lou off, and he got angry and animated.

“I’m tired of being asked about the Cotton Bowl all the time,” he said. “I’ll tell you right now, this is going to be my last doggone year at the University of Arkansas.”

I was taping this interview. So, I asked him if he was serious.

“I am, but if you say anything I will deny it.”

Whoa! Lou had lobbed a grenade into my pocket. Or the story of the year for Arkansas fans.

I have to admit, I wasn’t up to the moment.

As I drove back to Fort Smith, all I could think of is ‘why me?’ I was not a regular, daily beat reporter for the Hogs. If I broke this story, my reporting colleagues would think that I’m just trying to make a name for myself.

So, I kept it to myself. Call it a lack of courage, if you will. Because that’s what it was.

Pro-tip to young journalists: Don’t keep everything bottled up inside you. And don’t be afraid to share your fears or misgivings with a mentor or an editor. I should have gone straight to Jack Moseley, the SWTR’s editor, and asked him how to handle it.

I wrote my season preview with no mention of Lou’s comments and we published our special section. Less than two weeks later, an opportunity came up to take a position on The Daily  Oklahoman sports desk, and I accepted it.

So, as I departed the SWTR, I left the tape of my conversation with Coach Holtz with a colleague and told him if Holtz did, indeed, resign at the end of the season, to write a story based on the interview.

I knew it would be embarrassing for me, but, well, I deserved it. And the story needed to be told.

Lou DID resign at the end of the season, and the SWTR published the story of his pre-season comments. I got a couple of calls from national college football reporters, who wrote about it, as well.

I’m so glad there was no internet or social media in 1983.

Today, it’s known that Lou Holtz did not resign at the end of that season. He was fired by Frank Broyles, in part because he had campaigned for Sen. Jesse Helms of North Carolina, who for decades opposed almost every advance in civil rights for African Americans.

But that doesn’t matter to me. I had the story. I sat on it. I paid the price in self-worth. It haunted me for the rest of my career, even if no one really knew or remembered.

Lou’s passing provided the opportunity to finally admit my failure in a public way.

It’s an important life lesson. Don’t be afraid to share your information or situation with a mentor. Don’t sit on the story.

Don’t be like me.