“Science progresses, technology advances, the only thing that does not improve is man,” that exemplary citizen and notable writer Ernesto Sábato, who died before inclusive language was invented, used to say. The phrase is perfectly applicable to journalism. In these last fifty years, in which we have been in, we have seen the profession modernize and degrade in equal proportions.
I started in this sector at the end of 1973. From the operational point of view it was all manual, artisanal, with the old olive green Olivetti typewriters or the black Remington ones, gentlemen in white shirts, thin ties and cigarette smoke permeating the entire room. atmosphere. And on some tables, a bottle of cane. There were not even reams of paper. The enormous reels of paper with which the newspaper was printed were guillotined to letter size and we wrote with that.
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But it wasn’t just piling up letters, you had to know… You raised your head and admired what each classmate was typing. There were many cracks. That’s what he demanded. You had to play the ball at your feet, no hitting the ball. Nobody had studied journalism, they came from public school, but they were scribes of race, who hung out with the great authors. They were being made in the forge of practice. The director was a prominent figure who exuded wisdom. My first commission was to cover a members’ meeting in Boca. I don’t know anything about that, I said. I liked the ball. “You go, write everything down, then come here and write it down,” was the simple instruction. Scratching, but I passed the test.
We finished closing at twelve at night, if there was an important Copa Libertadores match, half past twelve. And the newspaper still came out on time and as the code dictates: the match sheet, a thoughtful comment, two photos, locker room notes and a separate box with news emanating from the game. Now that it is all satellite, the blinds have to be lowered at five in the afternoon “because it is an order from the administrative management”. Soon we will have to comment on the games before they are played. In newspapers they rule human resources, advertising, distribution, marketing, the workshop… Before, journalism, the news, ruled. Once the shift was over, we would go have coffee to kill time and then go to the foot of the press to wait for the newspaper to be printed at three in the morning. We walked through the early morning with the copy under our arms. That is dictated by passion. The journalist at heart has no schedule.
The evolution of journalism in 50 years
The newspaper industry was basically mechanical, then came the electronic and finally the digital. We saw the telex and the fax go by. Practicing journalism today is Disneyland, everything at hand, you go to Germany, you press a button and Beckenbauer appears. One can write a column on their laptop, tablet or even phone. With wi-fi there is no drama. Write from the stadium, while traveling, from above the Obelisk or the Eiffel Tower. The point is to do it well. On radio or TV it is the same. The boys who made the playing field (Tinelli was one of them) dragged tons of cables to get, sweaty, to where the scorer was. And the scorer attended to them. Zoom, WhatsApp, Twitter, cell phones, everything is facilitated. Go to Google and get the precise information that previously had to be found in a book. If you had it… The App that notifies you of the news and goals instantly. It is even better to watch the game on television, with twenty cameras, than to go to the stadium. This has also generated office journalism. Nobody wants to move their bones to go to training, the club or the association.
There are new ways of doing journalism. And every time someone in Silicon Valley invents a new app, another way to get the news across is created.
Mutual respect. Before, one would ask the footballer for an interview and he would gladly grant it, even arranging it at his own house. And the time that the chronicler needed was given. If you wanted a note with Pelé, it was no problem, you went to the Santos field one morning and from the edge of the field, while the genius was training, you shouted to him: “Edson, can we falar con vocé…?” And the Athlete of the Century responded: “Sim, depois do treino.” And one would sit with O Rei in the club canteen to chat with him. That was lost. Now, to talk to someone who scored two goals against, it is necessary to negotiate with the president of the club.
The anecdote of the failed interview with James Rodríguez
In 2014 I asked Real Madrid for a meeting with James Rodríguez. He was going to Spain with that sole purpose, for a book. From the communications department of the white club they said yes. But only ten minutes. It was a table for five. You had to sit with James, a press employee from Gestifute (the company of his representative Jorge Mendes), another from Adidas, the brand for which he was a model, a Madrid official and me. Questions had to be submitted in advance for review. And several topics were not allowed, talking about Messi, for example. Silly, superficial questions. No, thanks.
In the past, perhaps things were more solemn, it’s true. But, in general, no codes were violated. Off the record was sacred. The protagonist clarified: “I’m telling you this for yourself, please don’t publish it” or “don’t put it in my mouth,” and it was true. Today it is possible that a tweet will appear after ten minutes. The scandal matters more than the concept. On TV, panelism is fashionable, programs where five or six individuals shout, get on top of each other and compete for the most bombastic phrase, the one that can raise the networks and give them a few pieces of fame. You can see a director of an important media outlet shouting on television “Don’t come, Messi, don’t come again…!” In Spain, another director of a sports newspaper related to Real Madrid says before the cameras: “Messi must be stopped civilly or criminally.” And nothing happens. We are witnessing the era of militant journalism, one of the shamelessness of the profession.
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Opinion has been lost in televised matches, the TV journalist is “made aware” that he is selling a product and that he must take care of it. Selling matches is the same as selling shoes, you cannot say that the shoes are ugly. They also take care of the president of the Federation, because he is the one who awards them the television rights. The analysis of the game focuses too much on tactical speculations and statistics, dozens of North American-style data, on ball possession, passes, shots, recoveries, which illustrate in part, but do not say everything, observation remains the queen of the game. comment. Football must be described as a global spectacle, that is how it will always be, not only if the formation is 4-4-2 or 4-3-3.
The written journalist has become versatile: he writes, takes photos, makes videos, he only needs to sweep and serve coffee, but that’s fine, he learned.
What does not change are the essential values of the profession: ethics must be sacred. He who has passion, arrives, he who is prepared, arrives. Training, empirical, academic and personal, is decisive to shine, transcend and endure. All freedom has limits, even freedom of expression. Whoever has objectivity, stands out. Whoever delivers a noble product wins. Not being a friend of the footballer or the coach compromises your opinion. Always be equanimous. Never make a concession. Never lose rigor. Don’t give in to cronyism.
When the great Colombian referee Óscar Julián Ruiz was going to start the refereeing, his father, also a First Division judge, gave him brief advice: “Take what you see.” It’s okay for journalism: say what you saw.
Last tango…
Jorge Barraza
For the time
@JorgeBarrazaOK
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