So here’s a little secret about sports writers. Sometimes, we’re unprofessional in this business. Sometimes, we care more than we probably should.
Odds are good that, if you watched Washington’s 29-23 loss to Oregon State from the comfort of your couch, you were more into the second half of the game than I was. You probably remember that last drive, one that could have kept Washington’s bowl hopes alive, more clearly than I do.
This is what happens when feelings get in the way. I imagine it’s happened to just about anyone who has been in this business long enough. For me, Saturday night was a first.
Watch enough football, and you’re bound to see somebody get hurt, likely seriously. It’s a violent game, which in part is why people watch. But it’s different when you know the 19-year-old who is motionless on the field. It’s different when you see his mother — the one who welcomed an inexperienced reporter into her home two years ago to interview her family — in tears as her son is put into an ambulance.
Sometimes, we’re human before we’re reporters. As much as we’re taught to remove all biases, to just stick with the facts, sometimes, it’s impossible to turn off emotion. To listen to your brain and ignore your heart.
When Jake Locker went down midway through the second quarter in front of the Washington bench, all I could think was, “Get up, Jake. Get up.” I wasn’t thinking about deadlines; about how his injury could affect the game; about calling my editors to reassess our game plan for the night.
“Get up, Jake.” That was it.
When Locker was strapped to a back board and put into an ambulance, while his teammates stood around looking shocked and saddened, I imagine my face looked about the same.
And when news started spreading around the press box than Locker might have been released from Corvallis’ Good Samaritan Hospital, my first thought was to call Jake’s father, Scott, to confirm the good news. Not because I wanted the story, but because I wanted the sense of relief. Being a Locker, Scott was unselfish in the situation, and told me to go ahead name him as a source confirming Jake’s release (this was before we knew Locker would end up back at the stadium). But I’d have been plenty satisfied to hear the news off the record and let that be that.
Two years ago, on a different beat with a different newspaper, I spent a day getting to know Jake, a senior at Ferndale High School who was already being talked about as the savior of Washington football, and his family.
From the team breakfast at 6 a.m., to A.P. economics and English classes at school, to an afternoon meal at the Locker house, to the post-game bus ride from Bellingham back to Ferndale, I got to know the then-17-year-old Locker, his friends, and his parents. I heard classmates, teachers, strangers rave about Jake’s character, his humility, his dedication to family, religion, friends, and football. I heard all of that, and I saw it first-hand.
So when Locker, wearing a neck brace and walking gingerly, came back to the Washington sideline to a standing ovation at Reser Stadium late in the fourth quarter Saturday — a classy move by Oregon State fans despite a game that had gotten ugly thanks to personal fouls and ejections, by the way — it was hard not to join in from the press box. And I doubt I was the only one feeling that way. Was that moment a little emotional for me? Damn right it was.
So why am I writing all of this?
“Because it’s my column and I feel like it” would be an easy enough answer. But I guess the real reason is that it’s important for you as readers to understand where we’re coming from sometimes. And also, because sitting here on a Sunday evening, I just needed to get some stuff off my chest. Because sometimes, the human in us can take over.
Contact Herald Writer John Boyle at jboyle@heraldnet.com. For more on University of Washington sports, check out the Huskies blog at heraldnet.com/huskiesblog
Talk to us
> Give us your news tips.
> Send us a letter to the editor.
> More Herald contact information.
