Originally Published: August 18, 2009
Serve the audience
ESPN's new ombudsman analyzes the network's handling of the Roethlisberger story
When John Walsh, executive vice president and executive editor for ESPN, first spoke with me about being the sports network's ombudsman, my instinct was to reach for a dictionary. Ombudsman: "A person who investigates complaints."
I immediately thought about all those frazzled and haggard clerks slaving away at their customer service counters. Even as Walsh explained ESPN's objectives and the service provided by previous ombudsmen, I wasn't convinced. Sports television is a world of loud, quick decisions, not quiet reflection. I've never been a fan of Monday Morning quarterbacks -- and that, in many ways, was what ESPN was asking me to be. But as 35 years in broadcasting have taught me, colliding opinions can bring about progress. ESPN makes a decision, there's a reaction to that decision, and that reaction can ultimately lead to reflection -- and better decisions. That's a good thing. The action role is ESPN's. The reaction role is ours. As ombudsman, I knew I would have to prove myself to you and to those at ESPN whom we want to consider our criticism, and, as warranted, praise. All I could promise is honesty and my best efforts, but the reward could be an informed audience and better coverage for the ESPN fans. So six months later, here we go. ESPN's first two ombudsmen, George Solomon and Le Anne Schreiber, set extremely high standards. I admire the work they've done. Both came from strong print backgrounds at major metropolitan newspapers. On journalistic and ethical issues, we share common philosophies: truthfulness, accuracy, objectivity, impartiality, fairness, proportionality and a vigorous defense against conflict of interests. All are responsibilities of those who want to inform you -- even those who just want to entertain you. When reporting back to you, I plan to probe beyond rationalizations and that very human quality, defensiveness. It's not just about how difficult decisions are made, but rather what considerations were discarded in the decision-making process. Ultimately, I want to give YOU a better understanding of how ESPN works, and give ESPN a better understanding of how YOU feel. Unlike my predecessors, I don't come from a print background. Professionally, I grew up in TV control rooms, production trucks, editing bays and executive suites. This column will allow me to answer your questions, air your complaints and give you a peek behind the curtain -- a sense of how things work in a world in which I spent much of my professional career. It's an intoxicating place, and I want to take you where real people arrive at real decisions, whether in the production truck, the broadcast booth or the corner suite. The chaos and excitement of broadcasting live sports -- at the Indy 500, the World Series, the Olympics or hundreds of other major events -- is exhilarating. Producers, directors, announcers and crews transport viewers from their living rooms to events around the world. There's an old saying in broadcasting: Production people make more decisions in a control truck in three hours than they'll make outside of it the rest of the year (which explains why no telecast is ever perfect). When it's over, everyone is drained mentally and emotionally. But there's no feeling in the industry more thrilling than walking out of the control room after a Super Bowl, knowing it was a good telecast. Knowing that for three and a half hours, what was presented had a cathartic impact on some portion of 100 million people. Knowing that for a brief time, anyway, some viewers forgot about their troubles and got lost in a vicarious world that -- as the event unfolded -- the production team helped create. Under the category of disclosure, back in the 1980s and '90s I had my own company. It included a full-service advertising agency and production, marketing and consulting arms, with clients such as the NFL, NHL and MLB. We were hired by ESPN as a consultant. The company was a joint venture with Nabisco Brands, and, as part of our consulting arrangement, purchased 20 percent of ESPN. I represented that interest on ESPN's board. Those were the early years of what would become the "Worldwide Leader in Sports" -- when it was still carving its niche and deciding what it wanted to be when it grew up. My business relationship with ESPN ended in the late '80s when KKR took over RJR Nabisco and sold the 20 percent interest to Hearst. In 1993, I sold the sports portion of my company to ESPN. More disclosure: One of my sons has worked at ESPN Regional Television for 15 years as a producer/director. He's made a great career for himself. If one of his shows requires comment in this space, I'll be sure to remind you. As the saying goes, "A conflict disclosed is not a conflict." There are a few people at ESPN both behind and in front of the camera that I've known over the years. To them, I would steal a line from basketball coaching and broadcasting great Al McGuire. When talking with a fellow coach he had criticized on the air, McGuire said, "I can be your friend, but I can't be your press agent." In my early years in the business I was fortunate to have Roone Arledge as a mentor. He changed two elements of the media for the better: network news and sports. Roone was a brilliant man who shared with me his insights on production and programming. Over the years, these teachings evolved into a mantra I've carried with me throughout my career: