`How,” asked the reporter with a distinct air of gravity, ”is your wife bearing up under this?”
The object of this solemn query was not a murder defendant, the father of a missing child or a public official ensnarled in allegations of impropriety. It was a professional golfer, Curtis Strange. He showed admirable self-restraint amid a mix of generally redundant, tissue-paper thin and somewhat overwrought questions at a news conference attended by 120 members of a most curious, sun-loving journalism subculture: the golf press.
”I don`t know what`s been asked that hasn`t been asked, so it better be good,” intoned Strange with forbearance as he opened the encounter Tuesday.
The U.S. Open Championship ends Sunday at Medinah Country Club outside Chicago, and Strange, two-time defending champion, was the pre-tournament obsession of one of the bigger packs of pack journalists.
Indeed, in the early going, Strange`s quest for a third consecutive victory (it`s been done just once before) seemed the only story for many of the-count `em, 1,500-accredited journalists from more than 20 countries, including Portugal, Norway, Colombia and Thailand. It`s a record total for golf`s premier event and is attributed to Chicago`s lure and accessibility and to Strange`s quest.
The generic golf writer has been notorious in the past for ethics that would not have gained him a place beside Mother Teresa, St. Augustine or Ralph Nader in the annals of probity. Many have been quick to take freebies of all sorts and to generally exhibit a cordial approach toward those they cover, including sponsors.
Their group includes ladies and gentlemen who had no apparent second thought about accepting free rounds of golf, clubs, balls, apparel and briefcases. Last year, about 150 participated in the Nabisco/RJR Pick-the-Winners media contest, with the best picker getting a cruise for two from Nabisco/RJR, then a major sponsor of golf events.
Actual coverage of golf is a curiosity. It can be as difficult or simple as one could imagine. In any case, you`d take it over the night shift at police headquarters or mine cave-ins in West Virginia.
Given golf`s logistics, namely lots of players spread about a huge expanse, it`s close to impossible to cover it thoroughly by oneself. Those who hustle burn up a lot of rubber on sneakers, straining to get to as many holes as possible. Still, they can easily miss key developments.
That`s why the U.S. Golf Association press tent will be packed with the pack Sunday. There, the writers will do the most practical thing: watch television, just like millions of fans worldwide. Since ABC Sports has cameras at each hole, and can switch in an eye-blink from one group of players to another, the pragmatic journalist can watch it all on TV.
”But only on the back nine,” said a Chicago writer who plans to be on the course for the early action in the final round and then head to the tent to watch the leaders play their final holes.
And while the large majority appeared inclined toward more obvious storylines, the Open served as a refreshing reminder of a journalistic centerpiece, the ”local angle.”
That means that whether one covers a plane crash, the World Series, an awards ceremony or most any event, one may well submit to the wishes of editors by straining to highlight a participant`s link to the readership or viewership back home.
The U.S. Open has no better example than the hefty cadre, perhaps 40 in all, from Japan.
”We write mostly about the Japanese players,” said Fumiki Namikawa, sports writer for Kyodo News Service. ”We focus on Jumbo Ozaki and Isao Aoki.”
Ozaki and Aoki were the only entrants from Japan. On Monday, Namikawa said, he had written stories about Ozaki and Aoki. On Tuesday, he had written stories about Ozaki and Aoki. Wednesday? Well, as of Tuesday afternoon, he was planning to write about Ozaki and Aoki.
Question: If, on the tournament`s first day, Thursday, the above-mentioned Strange had shot a 70 to lead, while Japanese hotshot Ozaki stumbled with an 80 (in fact, both shot a 73-as did Aoki), what would be his opening sentence, his ”lede” in newspaper parlance?
”Oh, Jumbo Ozaki would come first,” he said.
And what if Ozaki and Aoki did poorly and didn`t make the ”cut,” being eliminated after the first two of the four rounds?
Namikawa paused and chose his words carefully and with a smile. He suspected that at least ”some” of his colleagues might split and head elsewhere to play a round of golf.
Tribune Co., which has a solidly Midwest, somewhat gray corporate image, and Warren Beatty, who doesn`t, now have something in common: Dick Tracy.
It`s no accident that Tribune Tower is festooned with Tracy posters or that the newspaper`s public service bureau has been temporarily renamed Dick Tracy Headquarters, selling an array of merchandise.
Tribune Media Services owns the copyrights to the Tracy comic strip, which is drawn by editorial cartoonist Richard Locher. In 1985, it sold movie rights to Beatty, the film`s producer, director and star; Beatty then found financing for the project and a studio-Walt Disney Co.`s Touchstone Pictures- to release the movie.
In all, Tribune Media Services will get about $500,000 for those rights, according to Robert S. Reed, president and chief executive officer of the Orlando-based service.
Tribune Media Services also gets a percentage of what Disney sells in licensed merchandise and is involved in publishing two Tracy-related books, one on the comic strip`s history. Reed said that, depending on the movie`s success, the company could reap anywhere from $500,000 to $10 million on merchandise.
He said that Tribune Media Services earned about $5 million from merchandise tied to ”Annie,” the hit Broadway adaptation of the ”Little Orphan Annie” comic strip and the film version, which bombed.
Tribune Media Services has a slice of net profits from ”Dick Tracy,”
though Reed concedes that those profits may be more difficult to ascertain, as evidenced by the somewhat confusing Hollywood accounting methods encountered recently by columnist Art Buchwald.
You may recall that a judge ruled that Buchwald is entitled to some percentage of profits from ”Coming to America,” the Eddie Murphy film. But Paramount says the film, which has grossed $300 million, hasn`t made a net profit.
But Tribune Media Services is sure of other revenue from increased interest in Tracy. In the last several months, about 40 newspapers have signed up for the strip. That makes about 300 papers that are running it.
NBC`s Deborah Norville, who unwittingly helped make Jane Pauley an electronic Joan of Arc, played down the ”Today” show mess as ”an old story” last week, while chiding reporters for misquoting her and ”hiding behind the 1st Amendment.” It came during a Chicago affair marked by executive candor on big-time broadcasting.
”Today” co-anchor Norville was a luncheon speaker at a Society of Professional Journalists seminar attended by several dozen broadcast journalists from around the land. A longtime society supporter, she was earnest, if bland, and it seemed fitting-given her recent difficulties-that she was hard to hear, because of poor acoustics in the NBC Tower lobby where the lunch was held.
More pithy were comments during a session called ”News of the `90s:
Where Are We Going?” by WMAQ-TV general manager Robert Morse.
Morse noted that the days of the networks earning 40 to 50 percent return on annual revenue are over. He underlined the need in tight times to manage operations better, but conceded that a drop to, say, 35 percent returns isn`t cause for tears:
”Will somebody find a job other than robbing banks, or stealing from the government, where you can get a 35 percent return?”
It seemed fitting, too, that as Morse and other executives mused on a new cost-cutting age, the lights in the WMAQ studio in which their panel took place went out. They came back on, though very much dimmed.
Perhaps General Electric, parent of NBC and WMAQ, was testing a new brand of bulb, the 30-watt Seminar Saver.
Oh, there also was news for WMAQ reporter Rich Samuels and his agent, if he has one: The boss likes Rich`s work.
When it comes to using the medium of TV, Morse told the gathering, the veteran reporter is a ”genius”-which might not be bad information to squirrel away for contract negotiations.
