Slate’s Josh Levin talks to us about Louisiana sports, over-hyped narratives, and urinating in troughs.
This week I interviewed Josh Levin. Josh is the sports editor at Slate and one of the hosts of “Hang, Up, and Listen,” Slate’s sports podcast. Every Monday, along with Stefan Fatsis and Mike Pesca, Josh talks about the week in sports—what happened, what we’re saying that we shouldn’t be saying, and what we’re not saying that we should be saying.
Like everyone we feature on here, the writing at Slate and the podcast try to look at sports differently. They break down the false narratives that always pop up, fitting whatever our particular public feelings are at that moment (an approach that’s spawned the hashtag #slatepitches). Slate’s sports coverage is important because it makes us look at what we’re saying and thinking about sports and wonder if those thoughts and feelings are actually just really stupid.
Josh started off as an intern at Washington City Paper in 2002 before moving to Slate in 2003. He’s currently located in Washington D.C. You should follow him on Twitter.
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Is there a moment from you childhood that stands out as a “Holy crap! Sports are awesome” moment, a moment that hooked you?
LSU-Auburn in 1988, also known as the Earthquake Game. I was eight years old and watching the game at home in our living room. When LSU scored the winning touchdown on fourth down, I can remember the feeling of total release, jumping and screaming after three hours of tension. I can also remember my dad getting us matching LSU basketball T-shirts before the 1986 Final Four, but that was more of a sports-are-not-awesome moment. That was the beginning of a lifelong quest to document my favorite teams’ accomplishments in T-shirt form, though.
At the end of the day, sports are just sports. We say they’re supposed to be a diversion, but for a lot of us, they’re more than that—even if you’re not covering sports for a living. Do you agree?
Yeah, of course. The comments and e-mails I get on my sports pieces are a good window into the insanity—excuse me, passion—of sports fans. If I criticize a particular player, fans react like I’m criticizing their mom and dad. People take this stuff personally, especially if those people are SEC football fans.
With the Internet cutting down barriers, sportswriting has become so much more than just game recaps, trade roundups, rumors, and quotes. There’s just so much more creative, insightful, entertaining, and important stuff being produced each day. Would you say so?
I’d agree with that. I’d also say there’s a bigger range in quality than there’s ever been. The barriers to entry in sportswriting are a lot lower now than they were even five years ago, so people who never would’ve gotten a shot in the traditional media have an opportunity to publish their stuff where everyone can read it, for good and for ill. The web is more of a meritocracy than the traditional media, and the better stuff filters to the top thanks to aggregators and Twitter. At the same time, the web makes it harder for sportswriters to earn a fair wage. A lot of really talented people are writing for free with no clear pathway to making a living.
At Slate you’ve definitely been a part of this. A lot of your stuff, it seems, breaks down over-hyped narratives, lazy journalism, and a lot of what we’d come to accept as “traditional sportswriting.” And you guys do the same thing on Hang Up and Listen. That’s not to say that you guys don’t also talk about sports critically and intelligently, also. How’ve you seen the Slate sportswriting—and sportstalking—evolve? And do you have any clue where it’s going?
In both our sports articles and the podcast, a big part of the mission is to think critically about whatever sports narratives are getting batted around. These narratives come from TV and from newspapers and sports radio and from Twitter and from sports blogs—I don’t think any medium is immune. I’ve been editing Slate’s sports stuff since 2003, and when I started there were just a handful of other outlets publishing argument-based, statistically savvy essays.Sports blogs hadn’t really started to flourish at that point—Deadspin, for one, didn’t launch until late 2005—and neither had social media. Fast-forward to 2011, and it’s a lot harder to publish distinctive stories. There are bazillions of blogs, Deadspin is publishing great essays every day, Grantland is storming out of the gate, and Baseball Prospectus and Fangraphs have partnered with SI and ESPN. Though we still publish stat-based pieces on occasion, I’ve moved away from that a bit and have just tried to focus on getting great writing in the magazine.
As a man, what have sports meant to you? Why do you think sports are such an important part of life for so many men?
Spectator sports are a great way to relate to other men, whether it’s the men in my family or my friends or random folks that you happen to meet. It’s a common language and an easy way to start a conversation. Games are also one of the few socially acceptable outlets for lots of things that men like to do: scream at people, eat disgusting amounts of food, urinate in troughs. And playing on a team or playing an individual sport like golf or tennis allows us to compete and mark our progress or decline in a really stark way that’s not possible in most other parts of our lives. Plus, it’s just fun to chase a ball around, except when my forehand is really awful.
And last, is there one specific moment in your life that really signifies what sports are really all about for you?
The Saints’ run to the Super Bowl in 2010 showed what sports can be, if not what they typically are. It was incredible to be in New Orleans the week before and the day after the NFC title game. Every conversation in the city that week was about the game, and every man, woman, child, and pet was wearing Saints gear. Compare that to what’s happening in D.C., where some days it feels like Dan Snyder has sapped this whole city of its will to live. That’s the range of emotions of a typical sports fan—from unrestrained joy to abject despair.
—Photos Shoshanah/Flickr; “Hang Up and Listen” Facebook page