Sports

Sharing Stories of the Summer Games

Anonymous — Thu, 22 Jul 2021 22:08:29 +0000

Sharing Stories of the Summer Games Anonymous (not verified) Thu, 07/22/2021 - 16:08

By Tayler Shaw (Jour, Span’21) and Stephanie Cook (MJour’18)

After a year-long delay, the Tokyo Summer Olympic Games captured the world's attention in 2021

As this year’s events unfolded, sports reporters and storytellers––including alumni, students and faculty from CMCI––hit the ground running to capture the victories, struggles and emotions of athletes from around the globe.

The experience has likely been both familiar and thrilling for Olympic veterans such as USA Volleyball Communications Manager B.J. Hoeptner Evans (Jour’90), who marked Tokyo as her sixth Games. Another longtime pro, AP photographer Gregory Bull (Jour’91), captured an iconic photo of Gabby Douglas’ gold medal-winning beam performance during the London Olympics in 2012 and returned to cover gymnastics and swimming in 2021. Pulitzer Prize-winning New York Times journalist John Branch (Bus’89; MJour’96) also headed to Tokyo this year with a focus on newer events such as skateboarding, rock climbing and surfing.

For more recent graduates, like NBC Sports Event Management Assistant Lina Takahashi (Jour’19), the 2021 Olympics represented a personal and professional milestone. Attending the Tokyo Games, specifically, has been a longtime dream for Takahashi, whose father works with Japanese Olympic runners.

“I think my love for the Olympics was partly because of my dad,” she told CMCI in 2019, “but I also think that I was just amazed at how the world comes together every two years to compete, watch and celebrate their nation’s players.”

Paralympian, veteran and author Melissa Stockwell (Comm’02)––whose memoir, The Power of Choice: My Journey from Wounded Warrior to World Champion, was published in 2020––is competing as a triathlete after two previous Games. The first woman to lose a limb in the Iraq War, Stockwell has previously won three paratriathlon world championships and a bronze medal at the 2016 Rio Paralympics.

“Even with some of my fastest times, I was not confident that I was going to be named to the team as I needed an international invite slot, the same I had received in 2016 prior to Rio,” Stockwell wrote on Instagram, adding, “I think I am still in shock."

Some Olympic events this year brought current and former CMCI Buffs together. Television producer Peter Lasser (Comm’76)—who has covered 10 previous Games—recently captured the Olympic swimming trials in Omaha, Nebraska, alongside CMCI sophomore Abbie Snyder, who was there as a production runner for NBC.

"What a difference a year could make," Lasser says. "The athletes already compete for an opportunity that occurs in a very small window of time. Training for years, so that on a singular day you will perform at your best and hope to win a gold medal or any medal, or just make finals to compete for a medal. There were probably a dozen U.S. swimmers that would have made the team in the summer of 2020 but were surpassed in trials a year later by others who were reaching their peak. To quote the old ABC Wide World of Sports opening, it is the epitome of 'the thrill of victory and the agony of defeat'.

While journalists and producers have traditionally covered Olympic events in person, much of the reporting on this year's Games was conducted virtually due to the pandemic.

Lasser, who once filled in for Turner Sports to produce a hockey game virtually during the 1994 Winter Olympics in Lillehammer, believes that remote production will continue for future Olympics, for both technological and financial reasons.

"There are two major factors – first, the quality of the production that the world feed provides. Olympic Broadcasting Services has continued to add to the technology of coverage at each Olympics," he says. "The second factor is cost. It cost NBC roughly $50,000 per person sent to Tokyo––that is for airfare, hotel and per diem. It doesn’t even cover pay. At those numbers, it just doesn’t make sense."

CMCI Instructor and Sports Media Minor Director Marina Dmukhovskaya is one of many journalists who reported on the Games virtually for the first time this year, and despite having two previous Olympics under her belt—Sochi in 2014 and Pyeongchang in 2018—the Tokyo games made her feel like a novice again.

“You get used to coming to a place, talking to athletes, talking to coaches and attending press conferences,” she says. “And then suddenly all you have is a computer, your notes, internet and your colleagues.”

This was also Dmukhovskaya’s first time writing for the Olympic Channel, the platform of the International Olympic Committee. Based in Berlin, Germany, she began her coverage at 8 a.m. CEST—3 p.m. in Tokyo, Japan JST—and didn't wrap up until at least 6 p.m. CEST. Though she wasn't reporting on site, Dmukhovskaya met virtually with editors and production teams based in Tokyo and Madrid, as well as fellow journalists scattered around the globe.

“I think this is becoming a new norm,” she says, adding that, while she would have preferred to report from Tokyo, she understands the rationale for limiting exposure to the athletes, as well as the increasing importance of reducing travel for environmental reasons.

For feature stories, Dmukhovskaya focused more on individual athletes than on specific events, she says, noting that for many athletes, the real battle is not with their competitors but with themselves.

When looking for potential leads, Dmukhovskaya says, she examines the relationship dynamics between athletes and seeks details that capture the personal and often emotional stories of their Olympic journeys. Recently, she produced stories on athletes' mental health, on a rock climber who was forced to train alone after the death of his longtime coach, and on two former canoe racing rivals from the same team who realized they work better together.

“The way that they went from competitors to people who are looking forward to getting the same medal—from being these individuals to becoming a team—it’s amazing,” she says.

Part of what makes the Games so special, Dmukhovskaya adds, is the way each event brings together an international and diverse group of individuals.

“[The] Olympics is, I feel like, the greatest event on Earth because it brings the talent and the stories and the representatives of the entire planet,” she says.

Lasser agreed, noting that the international broadcast center is often a hub for broadcasters from around the world.

"I have always thought that the most unique aspect of the Olympic Games was the international broadcast center," he says. "You can walk through the facility and literally see broadcasters from hundreds of countries all bringing the story of the Olympic Games to their homeland. Just sitting in the commissary, you see the faces of the world in one room and hear so many languages. While the variety is great – the purpose and focus is the same."

While the main events take place over the span of about two weeks, producers like Lasser and journalists like Dmukhovskaya spend far longer preparing. Dmukhovskaya's assignments required extra research this year, as she needed to familiarize herself with summer events after spending most of her career focused on the Winter Games.

“It’s kind of an unfamiliar situation to me because I’m not an expert in summer sports. And it’s funny because I’m always telling my students who take up sports writing with me, ‘Hey, it doesn’t matter if you’re an expert, you can always research,’” she says. “So I’m actually following my own advice and I’m like, ‘Oh, now it’s me who has to do that.’”

For her first Games at Sochi in 2014, Dmukhovskaya, who speaks five languages including Korean, worked as a translator for Viktor Ahn, a six-time Olympic short track speed skating champion who represented Russia and was born in South Korea. She eventually began writing stories on the Olympics and fell in love with capturing the experience.

“The atmosphere was just so amazing,” she says. “I just wanted to experience that feeling again—the euphoria of being at this big event. And look at me now. I’m at home covering the Olympics in Tokyo.”

This year, especially, journalists and producers were critical in keeping fans engaged while they weren't allowed to attend in-person events. As a storyteller and fan herself, Dmukhovskaya says it was a responsibility she was proud to take on.

“When you have so many people from so many different countries—I couldn't think of anything else that brings people from all over the world together, and this is [what is] so special about the Olympic Games,” she says. “For me, it’s a great honor to be able to tell the stories of these athletes.”

As the Tokyo Olympics unfolded during a delayed run in 2021, CMCI sports reporters, producers and storytellers hit the ground running to capture the victories, struggles and emotions of athletes from around the globe.

Off

Zebra Striped

White

More than a Game

Anonymous — Thu, 14 Nov 2019 19:56:22 +0000

More than a Game Anonymous (not verified) Thu, 11/14/2019 - 12:56

By Tammy Rae Matthews (PhDJour, ex’20) and Stephanie Cook (MJour’18)

The numbers alone were eye-popping: 105 combined points, over 1,000 rushing yards, 56 first downs and 10 passing touchdowns.

With less than 2 minutes remaining in the final quarter, the Los Angeles Rams made a game-clinching 40-yard touchdown pass, defeating the Kansas City Chiefs 54-51 in the highest-scoring game in Monday Night Football history.

That November 2018 game at the Los Angeles Memorial Coliseum is a career highlight for Jay Rothman (Jour’84), lead producer of Monday Night Football—mostly for reasons that have nothing to do with the stats.

“The highlights of my career have been when events I’ve produced—and intimately been involved in—have united people and a region, more than the game itself,” he says.

During the weeks leading up to the game, a gunman killed 12 people at the Borderline Bar and Grill in Thousand Oaks, California. Meanwhile, a string of fires—including the Camp Fire near Sacramento and the Woolsey Fire in L.A.—had already killed 80 people and forced hundreds of thousands of evacuations. Among the evacuees were several Rams players.

In response, the team passed out thousands of free tickets to local emergency, aid and law enforcement officials. The game brought together survivors of the shooting and fires, and gave exhausted firefighters and rescue workers a moment of reprieve. The night’s theme, LA Together, became a rallying cry for the entire city. It also showed how sports are about more than just a game—or even a season.

“The highlights of my career have been when events I’ve produced—and intimately been involved in—have united people and a region, more than the game itself,” says ESPN's Vice President of Production Jay Rothman (Jour’84).

Off

Traditional

White

Kate Fagan's three pointers

Anonymous — Wed, 12 Jul 2017 19:31:12 +0000

Kate Fagan's three pointers Anonymous (not verified) Wed, 07/12/2017 - 13:31

Fagan displaying school spirit with her signature Nikes while at CU ��«��Ƶ’s spring 2017 graduation ceremony.

Thank you, graduating class of 2017, for inviting me here to speak today.

And thank you to the University of Colorado, to Chancellor DiStefano and to the Board of Regents for supporting their decision. Congratulations distinguished faculty and friends and family, and, of course, especially, congratulations to the graduates.

This is the scariest thing ever.

I am comforted by one thing: when I think back to my commencement speaker, it’s just a blank space – totally empty. Nothing. So, I’m telling myself this is all reward and no risk.

I actually solicited opinions about this speech from many people, including my parents, who are here today. The advice was wide-ranging: Just be funny! Definitely be political! Definitely don't be political! (Can we agree on nothing these days!?)

A few folks even suggested I should note the current work of the different schools here at CU, showing I’m in touch with the university. That would have been impressive of me, I agree, but let me be transparent: I boarded the plane here, to Colorado, using my passport because my driver’s license is lost. I’m using one of my girlfriend’s extra credit cards because my wallet is in Ithaca, at a coffee shop, hopefully soon being mailed to me. The oil change on my car is 8,000 miles past due and I had to file an extension for my taxes.

So yeah, the likelihood that I’m up to date on the university’s research papers and grants … I’m not.

My parents are over there nodding. They’re probably still wondering when I’m going to follow through on what I promised them when I graduated college 13 years ago: that I’d take myself off the family cell phone plan. It’s just so convenient.

So I’m obviously also not here today to tell you how to be a competent, functioning adult. I am, however, going to be earnest with you about a few things that have been spinning around my mind lately.

...I took 250 shots a day, which means that growing up I took approximately one million shots,” Fagan said of the years she spent preparing for her collegiate basketball career at the ��«��Ƶ.

I grew up playing basketball. Eventually, I played here, at the University of Colorado, but first I practiced, every day for almost a decade, spending afternoons and evenings working on my game in a gym empty of everything except my dad, a basketball and me. During those years I took 250 shots a day, which means that growing up I took approximately one million shots. One million shots that no one witnessed; no one applauded. And yet I remember, and feel, the undiluted sense of accomplishment and validation when I watched the ball arc toward the rim, when I watched it drop through the net. The gratification came from feeling the competence of my own body, which I had harnessed through repetition; hearing the snap of the net was the punctuation. The feedback loop ended by the time the ball hit the floor.

Perhaps you’re worried this is a story meant to illustrate the value of working hard when no one is watching. It’s not. This is a story about validation, about satisfaction -- about where we find these things and what happens when we start looking in the wrong places.

Because a shift has occurred: we now seem addicted to the reaction, to the applause. And even more than that: it’s as if nothing is inherently beautiful, but only if enough people agree that it is -- if it is liked 500 times, retweeted 100, if it has its own Instagram page and LinkedIn account. I don’t really understand Snapchat, or I would have included that, too.

Writing this speech was revelatory. For three months, I floundered, writing speech after speech -- in fact, seven different versions. All are still on my Mac. Actually, a few were on my girlfriend’s Mac, which I left in the seat pocket of a plane, and which Delta assures me, through automated email, they are diligently looking for.

But, buzzing in my subconscious was the hope that if I wrote the perfect speech, it would go viral on Twitter and Facebook, and maybe a publisher would even turn it into one of those little books, in which the very best commencement speeches are preserved.

You see the problem immediately: I was writing to the response. In none of those earlier versions did I attempt to capture what might be most useful to you, but instead I focused on what might get the most clicks if put on the internet.

So, after all my fits and starts on this speech, I asked myself: for whom am I writing this? Was it Option A: For me, so I can be called clever or insightful? Option B: For you guys, so maybe, you might remember something I say here today -- or even might forget it, until a later date, when you see and feel the thing for yourself.

Perhaps it’s Option C: For both of us. No new ideas exists, just new ways of presenting them, illuminating them, reminding ourselves what we know is real, but we often forget as we drown in a pool of superficial.

So screw perfection, that little table book and worrying about how people react after the ball hits the floor.

Fourteen years have passed since I sat where you’re now sitting. The truth is, there is very little I’ve learned that I feel comfortable standing here and telling you is unequivocally true. But there are a few things I feel confident enough to suggest you should consider.

Here’s one: Dust settles on people, too. We accumulate layers without even realizing it. These layers are the perceptions and beliefs of others – parents and professors, yes, but also people we don’t know, but see and hear -- and they weigh on us, and muddle our decisions in ways almost impossible to recognize. Right now, as you sit here, you might be coated in these layers. You might be headed toward a job, or a master’s degree, that was chosen using the rubric of someone else’s values. Even now, as I stand here, I know my recent decisions have been clouded by this accumulation of what I should do, not what I want to do. I should be on TV; I should want more money. But, underneath those layers, I know a different truth: I want to write more, even if it means I’ll make less money. Try replacing ‘should’ with ‘want’ and, as frequently as you are able, make decisions with that rubric. Life is best when your ‘should’ and your ‘want’ are aligned. And when they’re divergent, ask yourself why -- and for whom, and what purpose, you’re doing this thing you believe you should.

Life is best when your ‘should’ and your ‘want’ are aligned. And when they’re divergent, ask yourself why -- and for whom, and what purpose, you’re doing this thing you believe you should.

But, like, don’t misinterpret this point. We often must do things we don’t want to: Go to a funeral, pay our dues at our first few jobs, take added sugar out of our diet cause apparently it's the worst, change the oil on our car, file our taxes -- or at least an extension.

But seriously: check in with yourself, frequently, to make sure you're waking up for your actual life, and not just because you're addicted to the side effects -- the money, or prestige, or social status -- that it provides. This is not easy. Nor am I particularly good at it. I’m just suggesting you should be aware.

This is a conversation I often have with myself about working at ESPN, while others usually have a much simpler question:

They want to know how I got to ESPN. I tell them I got to ESPN by not trying to get to ESPN. The year after I graduated from CU, I started freelancing for the ��«��Ƶ Daily Camera. I desperately wanted a job writing for the Camera. One afternoon, I asked one of their sports columnists, Neil Woelk, for advice. “How long should I wait for a job with you guys?” I asked. He said: “Not a minute longer.” At first, this advice disappointed me, because I liked having such a specific goal -- it comforted me. That’s how the world works as we’re growing up; it’s like we’re climbing a ladder. And while climbing the ladder can be challenging and tiring, we’re never worried we’re expending energy in the wrong direction: study, practice, take the SATs, apply to schools. So much of growing up is paint-by-numbers. And now, before most of you, the world is like a tree, with branches in all directions, and branches off the branches. And how do you know which direction will take you where you want to go, which might be a dead end?

That day inside the Daily Camera, Neil Woelk asked me what my goal was and I told him I wanted to write for their paper. And he asked what I wanted more: to write, or to write for their paper. Without hesitation, I said, “to write.”

Two weeks later I started a job at the Daily Record, in eastern Washington State, in a small rodeo town called Ellensburg. Here’s the point: the dead ends I’ve hit are when I’m more worried about the headline than the content. I mean that literally and figuratively: the stories I’ve struggled the most with are the ones I tried to tailor to a clever headline; similarly, the times I’ve boxed in ‘success’, defined it as something specific, I’ve always felt a sense of disappointment when it doesn’t look exactly like I’d planned.

In journalism, one thing you quickly learn is to never ask yes-or-no questions; always ask open-ended questions. Present them with a wide swath of space in which to roam, so that they can carve their own path within it.

Consider making your goals the equivalent of open-ended questions, so that dozens of paths are success.

All this might sound like a fancy way of employing the cliché, ‘focus on the journey, not the destination,’ and in some ways it is, because cliches are true, and because there are no new ideas. But in one specific way, it’s different, because our technology is quickly shifting how we view things, including success.

At first, as I mentioned, I wrote a speech tailored to be shareable. This thinking did not materialize by chance, in a vacuum: I thought this way because this is how we now think. We have hacked the human mind, discovered what types of headlines we’ll be unable to resist. Our online world is like Las Vegas, designed for addiction. And more and more, we are creating stories to elicit reactions instead of mining ideas to reflect our world.

I even know exactly which Instagram photos will get the most likes -- the ones when I include a pair of Nike kicks,” Fagan said, describing the way people shape their lives on social media.

It is for this reason that I started with the story of taking jump shots in an empty gym. The paradigm of value and success has shifted; we are being taught to focus on what happens after the ball hits the floor, and tailor our shot to maximize the response. When I first started at ESPN, my editor refused to share page view numbers with me, no matter how repeatedly I requested the info, telling me, "I don't want you choosing stories based on page views."

Now, I’m not just worried about stories, I even know exactly which Instagram photos will get the most likes -- the ones when I include a pair of Nike kicks -- and routinely construct situations to get my sneakers in pictures. I have created a crude algorithm in my head and I'm now altering the story of my life to chase page views.

This is the buzzing superficiality that is hijacking our minds, steadily distracting us from sitting still and thinking, letting our mind connect ideas, seeing what meaningful thoughts come up in the silence. This is not a trivial matter; this is actually the fundamental process of making art: sitting in silence and seeing what bubbles to the surface.

Working to notice the world is being replaced by trying to be noticed by the world.

Please, Class of 2017, don’t let this keep happening.

Noticing the world helps us make sense of it. What each of you notice about the world will be different than what I notice, then what your best friend will notice, then what anyone else will notice. And some of us communicate these observations through words, some through numbers, others through design or engineering – but it all starts with a vibration of insight that we allow ourselves to recognize.

Noticing and naming – that’s your voice.

Keep using it and keep exercising it -- regardless of how many people cheer after the shot hits the court.

Good luck to you, Class of 2017. Shoot your shot.”

The communication alumna on life, writing and social media.

Off

Traditional

White