Last fall, the college football world watched the unexpected return of Notre Dame to national prominence, captained by linebacker and inspirational leader Manti Te'o. In addition to his football prowess, Te'o was celebrated for overcoming personal tragedy: the deaths of his grandmother and girlfriend in quick succession. In spite of his losses, Te'o led his team to the national championship game and -- partly due to his inspirational story -- almost won the Heisman Trophy.
Except for one small detail: there was no girlfriend. Deadspin.com reported today that the girlfriend never existed; the only discoverable traces of her are online, and the only known photos are actually of someone else entirely.
Many questions remain to be answered. Who was responsible? Did Te'o know? (How could he not?) This story will reverberate for a while, if only because of its utter strangeness. But my immediate reaction, as someone with a lengthy journalism background, was:
Why didn't anyone check this out earlier?
The most prestigious outlets in sports journalism told and retold the story of a star football player's heroic struggle to overcome adversity. And none of them bothered to go beyond what Te'o had told them -- to look into the girl's background, speak with her family, or simply see if they could find her college records (she supposedly went to Stanford), hospital records, or her obituary.
Or if they did do some checking, they certainly didn't take it far enough, nor did they let it get in the way of a damn good story.
Isn't this Journalism 101? Always check out a story? Get more than one source? Get documentation? And if you can't, then find out why before proceeding any further?
Of course, sports journalism has always been an oxymoron. Your readership, your pageviews, your bookings on TV and radio shows, depend on getting good stories and/or the success of the teams you cover. And your access depends on the good will of those teams.
Sports journalists almost entirely live within the bubble world of sports. It wasn't they who uncovered the steroid scandal in baseball, or the doping scandal in cycling. They actively participated in the unblinking hagiography of Barry Bonds and Sammy Sosa and Mark McGwire and Lance Armstrong and Marion Jones and so many others, up until the scandals blew up in their faces.
Sports journalists almost universally give complete support to any team seeking a new stadium or arena, and almost never ask questions about who's paying the bills (usually the taxpayers) or whether the team really needs a new facility. And you won't find out from sports journalists how much of your cable or satellite bill goes into sports, whether you're a fan or not.
And these days, sports journalists spend many of their working hours, not on reporting, but on multi-platforming: making the rounds of TV, radio and Internet. And whenever the opportunity arises, morphing into "personalities" or "brands" instead of reporters. (viz. Mitch Albom, Tony Kornheiser, John Feinstein, etc., etc.)
Given all of this, it's easy to see how America's sports journalists all missed the Manti Te'o story. Because they're not really journalists, not at all.