John was the Bee sports columnist before moving to New York in 2005 to cover the New York Giants for the Times. I was hired as his replacement a few months later. I had heard that John’s kindness and his height were equally impressive, and it turns out both are true. I met him last summer at the College World Series, where he came into Omaha, wrote a wonderful piece about the Rosenblatt Stadium organist and was gone the next day. Oh the life.

I’m hoping he spent three days writing this email, but it probably took about 10 minutes. He’s that good. I’ve added a few asterisks, to give you a little more background.

***

 Matt,

Thanks for thinking to send me the link. You brought another dose of melancholy on a rainy day here in New York. But you also reminded me how wonderful those days were … I’m passing this link to some friends, many of whom never quite figured out what I was doing in Fresno, Calif. You explained it as well as I ever have.

Strange how many memories flooded into my brain just by looking at that picture. My first thought was: I left that Ralphie picture there? And it’s still up? And that chair. Why do the arms turn all the way inward? I never understood that. Who sits like that?

Part of my daily ritual was to barely adjust Jeff Davis’* chair, either putting one arm rest a smidge higher than the other, or lowering the seat, or changing the tilt. And then I’d wait for Jeff to notice and start talking to himself. Love Jeff Davis.

*Current Bee sports reporter, covers women’s basketball and softball. Famous chair adjuster and mutterer of things almost under his breath.

And that little adjustable tray for the keyboard? I never got that right, and I’d sit down and bang my knees into it. The Bee had an ergonomist who would come upstairs and find me sitting with the keyboard in my lap and my feet on the desk. I hope, of the disgraceful number of jobs that have been cut, the ergonomist was one of them. Could you imagine: “We laid off a city hall reporter, but Bill here will make sure you have proper posture.”

I remember the first day I got there and found out that I’d be sitting in the back corner of the cave. I had previously worked in Colorado Springs, and you can see Pikes Peak from the large windows along one side of the sports department, unless they’ve shrunk that, too. And I thought, “I now get to face a wall? Actually, two walls? How depressing.”

But then I realized that the cave was a kind of club, and I started referring to it as the grotto, thinking a Hugh Hefner reference never goes out of style. People would come back and sit at that table, and it felt a little like the cool kids’ table in the lunchroom. It was the anti-glass office, the place where real-life decisions were made and meaningful sports and journalistic discussions took place.

It was a sort of Speaker’s Corner at Hyde Park, devoid of management interference. Robert and Mike Braham* mostly stood on the other side of the half walls and never stayed long. If you did not have one of the four desks inside the cave but sat at the table, well, that was kind of like being invited over to Johnny Carson’s couch. Ken Robison** would come in, but rarely sit, because Ken has so much energy. David White?*** Good sitter. B.J.****, too.

*Former Bee sports editor Robert Zizzo (now metro editor) and former assistant sports editor Mike Braham.

**Former Bee sports writer Ken Robison, who is more excited on his worst day than anyone else is on his best.

***David White, former Bee sports writer, now covers the Oakland Raiders for the San Francisco Chronicle.

****Bryant-Jon Anteola, Bee sports writer and currently most hated in the newsroom because he’s running away with the fantasy baseball league title.

 Charlie Waters, being the executive editor, often came back to chat. That was fine, because he always had funny stories.

I mostly work from home now, or from the road, and I don’t have a desk in the office. And I just realized that I miss the camaraderie that comes from working alongside a bunch of interesting people, separated by funny little walls mostly used as bulletin boards.

Other memories kicked in. I can suddenly see Marek* spin around in his chair to take part in a discussion that he had tried to ignore. I can see Boogaard** talking Clovis sports, and the twinkle in his eye talking about camping with his son. I can hear all the debates — about Pat Hill’s schedule, about Ray Lopes’ phone calls, about Margie Wright and Stacy Johnson-Klein and Scott Johnson and John Welty and the Red Wave and Terry Pettis. About the civic meaning of the Save Mart Center or Grizzlies Stadium or the Fresno Falcons or Fresno City College basketball or Fresno Pacific volleyball. It isn’t often that one spot reminds me of so many people, and so many times.

*Marek Warszawski, Bee outdoors writer. Definitely someone you want in a discussion, even if he isn’t on your side.

**Andy Boogaard, Bee preps writer. Andy’s son and fishing buddy, Kevin, just graduated from Clovis High School.

I eventually got a custodian to open those mysterious locked doors in front (and to the left) of Jeff Davis, which hide electrical panels or something, and we attached a Nerf hoop there. Is it still there? We kept losing the balls, sometimes up on top of the fluorescent light fixtures. And there was always a football to zing around there, until something would get knocked over or Robert would give us a look. But Robert had good hands.

I loved your bit about the perception of the previous columnist. I heard the same thing about Canzano*, and I’m sure he heard them about Woj*. People would say, “At least you’re not as negative as that last guy,” and I would say that Fresno must not be quite as corrupt as it was back then.

*John Canzano, now sports columnist at the Portland Oregonian. With his own Wikipedia page. That’s how you know you’ve made it.

**Adrian Wojnarowski, now sports columnist at Yahoo.com, also honored with his own Wikipedia page. My jealousy rages quietly.

In some ways, I don’t know if I want to know what happens to that back corner. I’d rather remember it as it is, warts and walls and all — a vital, vivacious pocket of sanity in a sometimes crazy world of both Fresno and newspapers. We solved all of Fresno’s problems back there. Fresno just didn’t know it.

Nice work. Hope you’re well.

John

***

That’s John Branch. As talented as he is kind. I wish I’d been in Fresno to read his stuff, although I guess if he hadn’t left, I’d have never gotten here. And there’s your Catch 22 for the day.

OK, that’s enough reminiscing about work and desks and newspaper people. My apologies for all the asterisks. I think four might be the indoor record for one paragraph.

Don’t worry, John, a few of the fellas are still here, still having those same debates and discussions, still solving all of Fresno’s problems.

When I got to work Thursday, this is what my desk looked like …

Not the cleanest desk in sports journalism today, or any day for that matter. But if you look in the middle you will notice there is something important missing: A computer. No, I didn’t get laid off. Hold your tears or applause. It hasn’t happened yet. These days in the newspaper business, though, it’s disconcerting to walk in and see the I.T. people have snagged your work station.

The Fresno Bee sports department is moving from one end of the building to the other. We’re no longer hidden in the back corner, where no one could hear the cursing or see us throw plastic footballs at each other. It’s pretty simple as to why. The editorial staff is so much smaller than it was two years ago that they’re consolidating the newsroom. I assume this is happening at other newspapers, too. The area where the sports department was, is going to be empty. That entire end of the newsroom. I’ve heard rumors they’re going to wall it off. I’ve heard they are considering renting out the office space. I’ve heard they might put up a curtain, the way they do at the Save Mart Center when they can’t sell the upperdeck tickets.

 I don’t want to be mawkish here, but some remarkable people have sat at that desk. John Branch sat there. He now writes feature stories for the New York Times. To the right, you can see a Sports Illustrated article about the University of Colorado that he once taped to the wall. He left it and I’ve kept it up, hoping some of his ability would somehow hang around. John Canzano sat at that desk. He writes sports columns for the Portland Oregonian and was named the nation’s best sportswriter this year. It’s astounding the number of well-known sportswriters who’ve come through the Fresno Bee in the last two decades. Eric Prisbell writes for the Washington Post. Adrian Wojnarowski has authored at least two wonderful sports books, and writes NBA columns for Yahoo. Jeff Passan wrote for the Kansas City Star and now Yahoo. Andy Katz is at ESPN. Bill McEwen is the metro columnist at the Fresno Bee. I’m forgetting several more.

People who aren’t familiar with the recent history of the Bee sometimes ask how I ended up in Fresno, as if I arrived here by some misfortune. The truth is so many sportswriters have accomplished so much at the Fresno Bee, and went on to so many big things, it became an accomplishment just to get to the Bee. I wrote a column this week about Orlando Magic point guard Rafer Alston, one of the few guys who has been successful since coming out of the Jerry Tarkanian or Ray Lopes era of Fresno State basketball. All that corruption and chaos didn’t make many basketball careers, but it certainly launched a few journalism careers. There was always something new to write about.

The last few years I’ve met a few of those writers, Branch and Canzano and Passan, and they all have pleasant memories of their time in Fresno. Sorry fellas, the department as you know it is long gone. We have less than half the employees we once did in the sports department, and we don’t travel too much any more. And now we have a new home, down where the business section used to be. I walked down and found my computer on this desk …

It ain’t bad. The view is better than staring into a corner and you don’t immediately think, “I wonder what the Russian mafia was looking for when it ransacked this desk.” It’s nice once in a while to have a fresh start, a new perspective. And if you don’t move every now and then, you never throw anything out and the junk piles up. Do I still need the 2001 Silicon Valley Bowl media guide? Of course I do. But I’m not hauling it from one end of the Bee to the other. 

The first thing I did was put up the articles and helpful writing tips that had been left at my old desk by previous writers. It won’t be the same. I know that. The heritage just isn’t there. The broken down chair. The soda stains. The filing cabinet packed with the notes and stories and cobwebs of some pretty amazing years of journalism. But the phone came with me, the one that’s been called so many times by appreciative readers, thankful for an interesting story. The phone that’s been called by all those angry readers, wondering how some out-of-town punk sports columnist* could say such things about the Bulldogs. The phone that rang a couple years ago and a voice said, “Matt, how many starters does the Boise State football team return this year?” Jerry Tarkanian, is that you? And it was.

*Every now and then someone will stop me and say, “I’m so glad you’re not as negative as the last guy,” and I just chuckle. Every sports columnist here has heard that at one point or another. Thank goodness for the previous guy.

Don’t worry, guys, I’ll check on the old desk now and then. And if they do rent the space out, I’ll tell the unsuspecting new person he’s got a lot to live up to.

The problem is, you can’t read the Q & A here, because I didn’t post it here, mostly because I posted it here … http://fresnobeehive.com/sportsbuzz/matt_james/

That’s my other blog, the Fresno Bee blog, the one entirely devoted to sports. The one I get paid to write. Or more specifically, the one that gets mentioned in my performance review should I not post enough on it. You will notice the button at the top of this web site called “SPORTS BLOG,” which will take you over there at any given moment. But don’t leave yet. I’m not done. Here, I write about sports, too, but lots of other important stuff like Rip Torn’s hair and why motorcycle sometimes don’t set off the traffic light sensors and the best places to skip rocks in the Sierra Nevadas.

At my other job, we have some rules about part-time jobs. If I started reporting for Channel 30 in my spare time, it would not go well. My car would blow up in the parking lot, or possibly I’d get a stern warning to knock it off. Either way, it would be bad. But I don’t want to work for a TV station, partially because stuff like this happens …

You’d probably seen that clip by now of the TV crew in Cleveland as LeBron James was hitting that absurd shot the other night. (Playoff update: If not for that shot, the Cavs would be out of the playoffs already.) That would never happen in our newsroom. It just wouldn’t. Sure, we love sports. We each have teams we cheer for and grew up following, but we report on the local teams with a certain level of detachment. Our job is to bring you fair and accurate articles, and can you really look at those four people* in that clip and expect fair and accurate reporting from them in the future. I get the idea that local TV gave up on that notion long ago.

Sure, there were people in the Bee sports department crowded around the newsroom TVs at the end of that Cavs game, but the reaction was stunned bewilderment, not people running around and clapping. Of course we aren’t a Cleveland newspaper, but the reaction would have been even less if we were. And remember, that’s with no one watching, not live on the air.

*Go back and listen again and tell me if you think the woman in red really has a “Sports Illustrated” issue to cancel. I know she was joking, but the way she said it was so unintentionally funny. I’d bet you $100 she read it off the teleprompter and somewhere her husband was sitting in a bar telling his buddies, “Yeah, she let my S.I. run out five years ago because said it cluttered up the ottoman.” … P.s. Here is the S.I. cover to which she refers.

I’m getting away from the point. At my newspaper, we have rules against working for competing media (don’t) and rules about part-time jobs (don’t ask), but when I asked if I could run my own blog, I was told it was OK. The internet is a tricky beast. Because of the internet, newspapers are being read like never before. We have access to articles and newspapers that was never possible. Did you know that yesterday U.S. senator Max Baucus, a democrat from Montana, had a listening session about health care reform at St. Patrick Hospital? It’s the lead story in The Montana Standard. I’m just saying.

But we haven’t really figured out how to make money on the internet. Or at least not enough. We give away our product for free there. The internet enables competitors to take advertising. It lets businesses do their own advertising. I’ve half-joked that my goal is for my blog to become the most popular site in the history of the internet, but what if it did take off? What if it got 10,000 hits* a month, or 10,000 a week, or 10,000 hits before noon. Could I sell advertising? I don’t know why not. And at that point, aren’t I at least some sort of competitor to my own employer? It’s tricky.

*No idea how many hits I get. Too scared to look. It isn’t many.

So for now, I worry about these things. I don’t want to use my work hours to blog here, but then again, I don’t even have hours. If I wake up at 3 a.m. and have an idea, I start typing. If Fresno State coach Pat Hill says I want to meet you on the golf course on Sunday afternoon, that’s where I go. And what if I do 300-word blogs for the Bee and 3,000-word blogs here? What if I post here three times a day and there only once? (I know, I know, three times a week would be a good start.)

There are so many questions I don’t want the answer to. What if I found a great story idea and wrote it for this site instead of the Bee because I wanted to build traffic here? I’m not saying skip out on work, but write other story ideas for the Bee and the better one here. And who’s to say it’s better anyway? I honestly have no idea what’s going to happen, or where this all will go. I’m 85 percent positive that at some point I will end up in a room full of editors and possibly a publisher and will get the answers to all these questions. Until then, we happily march on, well under the radar.