Sports News Without Fear, Favor or Compromise
Sports News Without Fear, Favor or Compromise

Sportswriters: Just Because You're Simpletons, That Doesn't Make You Forrest Gump

Illustration for article titled Sportswriters: Just Because Youre Simpletons, That Doesnt Make You Forrest Gump

On Sunday, the usually great Times reporter Karen Crouse came out with this unfortunate bit of imagery:

I've been the Forrest Gump of sportswriters, a witness to all kinds of history. I was there for the Mighty Ducks' first N.H.L. game and Pete Sampras's last major victory; for the Giants' last-minute win over the Patriots in Super Bowl XLII and the Cubs' playoff loss to the Marlins in the infamous Bartman game.

So, she's attended events as varied as the National League Championship Series and a U.S. Open men's final? That's basically the same as going from the Vietnam War to ping-pong diplomacy. Or else it's an ordinary batch of job assignments for a sports reporter at a national newspaper.

But sports writing is a box of the same daggone kind of chocolates over and over again. So here's Darren Rovell in his farewell column from Monday:

Forrest Gump. That's whose life I feel like I've lived over the past six years at CNBC.


Oh brother. Rovell then lists all the whole quirky range of things he's done in his job, though his are considerably press-release-ier than Crouse's. He was there for "the launch of the Taco Bell Doritos Locos Tacos"! (Where were you?) He also recalls feeling "the 60 mile per hour winds of Hurricane Irene hit my face as I stood on a Montauk beach"—note: that's 15 mph too weak to count as a hurricanes—and appearing on CNBC's morning show, Squawk Box, along with approximately 1,244 journalists.

Haven't any of you mopes ever heard of Zelig, for variety? But Forrest Gump isn't just a witness to history. Here's Bill Simmons a few weeks ago anyway:

Remember that scene when Forrest Gump finds out about his son, digests the news, then worries that the boy is just as stupid as he is? For two terrible seconds, he's thinking to himself, Oh, no, I hope I didn't ruin this kid. That's how I felt when I watched my daughter sobbing. Why did I do this to her? Why would I pull her into this fan vortex where you're probably going to end up unhappy more than happy?

Did you remember that scene? People around the Deadspin office are kind of hazy. There was that part where he went jogging and got really shaggy. And the part where that other guy talked about shrimp a lot. Man. Best Picture, 1995 Oscars. Lots of movies came out since then.

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