Using the words of the great New York Yankees announcer Phil
Rizzuto, I must say,
”
Holy Cow.
”
That’s the only way I can describe the week I’ve had, beginning
shortly after my return on Sunday from the CIF State Wrestling
Championships in Bakersfield.
Using the words of the great New York Yankees announcer Phil Rizzuto, I must say, “Holy Cow.”
That’s the only way I can describe the week I’ve had, beginning shortly after my return on Sunday from the CIF State Wrestling Championships in Bakersfield. The crazy events that transpired following my arrival back to Gilroy made up a work week I will never forget for as long as I live.
I’m sure my readers know where this is going, but if not, then let me start from the top and work my way through all the details. Here we go.
I got home late Sunday afternoon and I knew I was in for a long night with all my quotes still on my recorder waiting to get transcribed onto a computer document. I had two days of interviews to get down from the Gilroy High wrestlers and coaches, but that didn’t bother me one bit.
I was excited about writing my articles for the state wrestling championships, because there was so much to tell and I knew most Gilroyans did not make the three-and-a-half hour trip to Bakersfield. Besides the coverage for The Dispatch, I also agreed to do a write-up for our sister paper in Hollister, The Freelance. I didn’t mind that either.
But before I even got through all my interviews, I received a surprise phone call a little after 9 p.m. from Jeff Garcia’s father, Bobby, who first pulled a fast one on me by posing as a reporter from Tampa Bay. Once the gig was up, Mr. Garcia let me know the reason he was calling. He wanted me to be the first reporter to know that his Pro Bowl quarterback son was going to sign with the Buccaneers the next morning.
Mr. Garcia was so excited that Jeff was going to play for Coach Jon Gruden, a man they both deeply respected, that he could not keep it to himself. I had done a number of articles on Jeff and built a friendly relationship with his father, who I first met at the beginning stages of establishing the Jeff Garcia Golf Tournament at Eagle Ridge.
We talked for about an hour on Jeff going to Tampa and how great it was for his career. Mr. Garcia was very sincere and we were both happy about the breaking news.
I still had to finish writing my story for Hollister and then finish writing up my notes for Gilroy wrestling, but first I wrote up the story entitled, ‘Garcia bound for Tampa’. It did not even dawn on me at the time that I would be the only reporter in the country to get that story. I figured it would be leaked in other ways to other media groups via the Bucs or someone else.
So to skip through my Sunday evening, I finally completed all my stories and designed the sports section at about five o’clock Monday morning. When I got home, I fell right into a deep sleep, not knowing what was in store for me the next day.
I got back into work before noon Monday, and I had a message from Bobby as well as Jeff’s mom, Linda, telling me not to run the story, because it was not a done deal yet. Unfortunately, it was too late. The paper was off the press and headed to the news stands. I could not believe it. I didn’t know what to do. All I could do is hope that Jeff would eventually sign with the Bucs.
We all know now that didn’t happen.
My e-mail account was flooded with responses to my breaking news from Cleveland Browns and Tampa Bay Buccaneers fans, asking if it was really the truth. There were also several e-mails from news reporters, radio voices, and television sports anchors. They all wanted the scoop, and I felt it was my job to call them back.
It truly is amazing how fast word spread once my story was put on our Web site, www.gilroydispatch.com. Apparently, it was posted on the Cleveland Browns team site, and I’m sure in Tampa as well.
Then the phone began to ring, and it never stopped. One radio guy from Cleveland wanted me to go on the air, and every reporter wanted to know the best way to get in touch with Mr. Garcia. It was crazy.
One phone call I will never forget is when Sports Illustrated was on the line. I could barely breathe. It was Sports Illustrated. I’ve got to say it again, “Holy Cow.” I turned to the chief photographer and said, “Hey, Sports Illustrated is on the phone.” He replied, “For me?”
I just let everyone know exactly what Mr. Garcia had told me on Sunday night, and that he did call that morning with the latest news that the deal was not done.
After speaking with my boss on the matter, I called back the radio station in Cleveland and, despite some reluctance to talk, agreed to go on the air. It was only a short interview, but it was the first time I’d ever been on the radio. And it wasn’t the last as I also spoke on KNBR later that day.
The e-mails continued to fill my account, and there was one common factor in all of them. Fans from Cleveland and Tampa Bay all wanted Jeff Garcia to be a part of their hometown team.
Still dragging from a lack of sleep and obligated to do my regular duties as a prep sports editor, I began to lay out the paper Monday night for our Tuesday edition. That’s when I heard the news on ESPN, “Jeff Garcia will sign with Cleveland.”
Although I have nothing against the Browns, I must say that was not what I wanted to hear. That meant I was going to take a lot of heat for publishing an article on Jeff Garcia’s expected signing with Tampa. It also meant that I had to get up early Tuesday morning – I awoke at 6:50 a.m. – and write up the story on Jeff going to Cleveland.
With about three hours of sleep Monday night, I jumped out of bed and headed back to the office. I spoke with Bobby. I spoke with Jeff’s agent. I even got two colleagues to help out. Before press time, the story was in.
I don’t really know how to describe how I felt about the whole thing. I was embarrassed for one. I was angry. I was confused. I was sad. I felt like their was egg all over my face.
Then I checked my e-mail account, knowing what was waiting for me. All those fans were going to let me have it. Everyone thought I had jumped the gun to boost my journalism career. Some of the e-mails were mean-spirited, taking shots at my ability. One fan wrote, “You should be ashamed of yourself.” Another wrote, “Your family must be proud.”
They were not all like that – although most were – and I’d like to thank one Cleveland fan, named Rick, who first wrote, “In your face,” but then continued to say, “Scott, it’s all in fun my friend. I am being sarcastic. We are really happy that Garcia is here and Couch is out.”
I for one am happy that our hometown boy is going somewhere he is appreciated and wanted, even if that is thousands of miles away.
From then on, every news report on Jeff Garcia’s signing, whether in a paper, on the radio, or on television, included that Bobby Garcia told the hometown paper his son was going to Tampa Bay. Even Jeff joked around about it in his press conference, saying his dad was grounded for 12 months from talking to the media.
But what about me? Was I now a laughing stock?
I really didn’t know until I received another e-mail from a sports reporter from a much bigger paper in California. He told me, although I should have possibly checked out other resources, I had played it right. That meant a lot to me and I’d like to thank him once again.
I can now look back on it all and say, “Holy Cow”, because the truth of the matter is I would have much rather wrote a story on one of our high school wrestlers winning a state championship than breaking a national story on Jeff Garcia. I know our business can be very cut-throat when it comes to breaking news – I hope to some day get a chance to break one – and I know it could only help my career. But that’s not what I am all about.
Knowing everything I know now, as I sit at my desk with the clock nearing 1:30 a.m. and a layout still ahead, I can honestly say that I would have played it the same way.
Scott Forstner, a native New Yorker, is the sports editor for The Dispatch. To respond to his column, e-mail him at sc****@gi************.com.
