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On October 13, Channel One reporter Cali Carlin barely could contain herself as she giddily told students about the Gatorade Play of the Week. Here is the script she read:
GATORADE PLAY OF THE WEEK
CALI: TODAY’S PLAY OF THE WEEK ISN’T JUST ONE PLAY, IT’S AN ENTIRE GAME. PAUL MCCOY – A FIVE FOOT NINE INCH – ONE HUNDRED AND SEVENTY POUND – SENIOR AT MATEWAN HIGH SCHOOL IN DELBARTON, WEST VIRGINIA, RAN FOR A RECORD-BREAKING SIX HUNDRED AND FIFTY-EIGHT YARDS IN ONE GAME. THIS AMAZING FEAT MEANS MCCOY BEAT THE NATIONAL FEDERATION OF STATE HIGH SCHOOL ASSOCIATIONS’ RECORD BY NEARLY FORTY YARDS.
CALI: MCCOY’S RECORD CAME WITH ONLY TWENTY-NINE CARRIES, GIVING HIM AN AVERAGE OF ALMOST TWENTY-THREE YARDS EVERY TIME HE CARRIED THE BALL. THIS WASN’T MCCOY’S FIRST TIME TAKING THE BALL HUNDREDS OF YARDS. AS OF LAST WEEK, HIS AVERAGE STOOD AT THREE HUNDRED AND FORTY- FIVE YARDS A GAME.
CALI: AS IF THAT WASN’T ENOUGH, MCCOY REACHED ANOTHER RECORD DURING THE GAME. HE TIED THE NATIONAL MARK FOR THE SECOND MOST TOUCHDOWNS IN A GAME. SIX OF HIS TEN TOUCHDOWN RUNS WERE OVER FIFTY YARDS, AND TWO WERE OVER EIGHTY YARDS. HIS ELEVENTH RUN INTO THE ENDZONE WAS CALLED BACK BECAUSE OF A PENALTY.
CALI: PAUL MCCOY’S AMAZING GAME HELPED THE MATEWAN TIGERS BEAT RIVAL BURCH HIGH SCHOOL SIXTY- FOUR TO NOTHING.
CALI: THIS SEASON, MCCOY HAS A TOTAL OF ONE THOUSAND SEVEN HUNDRED AND TWENTY-THREE YARDS, WITH TWENTY SIX TOUCHDOWNS. WITH ONLY FOUR GAMES LEFT IN THE REGULAR SEASON, WHO KNOWS HOW MANY OTHER RECORDS THIS GUY COULD BREAK. AT THIS POINT THERE SEEMS TO BE NOTHING AND NO ONE THAT CAN STOP HIM.
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First, there is controversy over whether this is a national high school football record or not. ESPN and others mention that there is a record of 739 yards by John Giannantonio of Netcong, NJ back in 1950. Channel One didn’t dig too much when they prepared their story – surprise – and did not mention the controversy. (Much like failing to mention during a Jack Abramoff story that Channel One employed Abramoff’s firm.)
The sloppy journalism aside, the most disgraceful thing of all is that Channel One thought it was a great idea to air this story. This is ugly, mean stuff. This is all about poor sportsmanship. This is about the premeditated humiliation of an under-manned and exhausted opponent.
Below is a Chicago Tribune opinion article that ran a day before Channel One taped their show. Channel One’s producer had to know that this record was the result of some awful decisions by the Matewan football coach.
Students watched as Channel One’s Cali Carlin gushed about how wonderful and remarkable Paul McCoy’s feat was. This is what Ms. Carlin left out of her story:
Although the opposing team from Burch is a larger school than Paul McCoy’s Matewan High School, Burch’s football team had only 13 players. (A football team consists of 11 offensive and 11 defensive positions.)
Burch has not scored a point against Matewan in the last seven years. (Was "rival" the correct word to use?)
Matewan’s bully coach, Yogi Kinder, used a no-huddle offense in the second half to maximize McCoy’s opportunities to score. The half-time score was 35-0.
Why did Channel One not tell the whole, much uglier story? Why would they want to praise this unsportsmanlike conduct? Because Gatorade would not be served by a full telling of the story. Channel One News serves advertisers – not students.
It’s not in Channel One’s official script but right after Ms. Carlin says there is nothing that can stop Paul McCoy (except maybe sportsmanship), a voice-over comes on and says that Matewan High School would receive a bunch of Gatorade products for sending in this remarkable video clip. Those who humiliate others will be rewarded.
Media Literacy Moment: Students need to ask themselves, "What is Channel One News NOT telling me?" In the case of this advertiser-based news story, Channel One News left out a lot.
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Rushing to disgrace Published October 11, 2006 When Matewan (W.Va.) High School football coach Yogi Kinder went into the locker room at halftime of the game against Burch High School, he knew senior running back Paul McCoy was having a great night. Already, McCoy had four touchdowns and more than 300 yards rushing against a team that had not scored against Matewan in seven years. At that point, most coaches would have pulled their starters, let the backup players get some game time, and spare the other team any further humiliation. But Kinder concluded it wasn’t enough for his star to have a great night: He ought to have an immortal night. And if the other team was humiliated, who cares? The coach convened his offensive players and asked if they would like to help McCoy break the national high school record for rushing yards in a single game–619. They agreed. With a 35-point lead, Matewan began using a no-huddle offense to afford McCoy as many carries as possible. Not only that, Kinder’s special teams stopped fielding punts, letting them roll to give the offense even more ground to cover. By the final gun, McCoy had 10 touchdowns, 658 yards and (evidently) the record, while Matewan had a 64-0 victory. But not everyone was impressed. When the Matewan players walked out on the field for the traditional postgame handshakes, the angry Burch players turned away and headed for the locker room. Since then, Kinder has been annoyed by the negative reaction of many people. He says he was just trying to help a hardworking kid who dreams of a football scholarship. "I can’t understand it," he told The Washington Post. "You’d think we stomped on somebody’s cat." Lots of records, he insists, come in mismatches: "You get numbers like that against sorry teams." But when he fills out the form submitting McCoy’s achievement for official recognition, he might read what it stipulates: "Embarrassing an opponent for the primary purpose of inclusion in the record book is not consistent with the ideals of good sportsmanship." Sportsmanship may be a fading tradition, but it’s one most coaches strive to uphold. What they could tell Kinder is that the point of a football game is not to break a record. The point involves more prosaic matters: teamwork, discipline, selflessness, perseverance, respect for the opponents and the officials, and handling winning as well as losing with grace. Coaches can’t prevent occasional lopsided contests. But they can, and usually do, exercise sensible self-restraint. Kinder failed to do that, and in that, he embarrassed himself, his players and his school. But he inadvertently provided everyone involved a valuable lesson: When you stop at nothing to succeed, you turn success into a kind of failure. Copyright © 2006, Chicago Tribune |
Thanks to Robert Legge.
