The backbone of any good business is believing that the customer is always right.

You could be the best car salesman in the world, and you’re sitting there trying to sell someone a badass, affordable, brand new 2018 Ford F150 with four-wheel drive, an EcoBoost V6 engine, and 10 free years of Sirius satellite radio. You’re 100% convinced that it’s the best deal out there, but the family at your dealership wants to buy a PT Cruiser instead, so you sell the family a PT Cruiser.

Because the customer is always right, even if you disagree with his or her decision and think the PT Cruiser is the dumbest vehicle on Earth.

This is true in sports writing, too, where the customers are our readers and social media followers. You try to build relationships with those people and understand that they’re the ones who click on your stories, buy from your advertisers, and listen to your podcast.

So when those people complain that sports types won’t “stick to sports,” it always devolves into this complicated mess that really isn’t that complicated:

  1. if a sports writer wants to use their Twitter account for personal political and social opinions, you don’t have to follow them or read their stories
  2. if the writer wants to go down that path, he or she is smart enough to know that they might piss off and alienate some folks

That’s really all it is – “Is this a risk worth taking?”

Every writer asks themselves that question when they publish a tweet about Donald Trump or Bernie Sanders or Michael Dukakis.

What usually happens is that it turns into some circular argument between a (usually) liberal writer and a (usually) conservative reader. The writer says, “well, I’m gonna talk about whatever I want!” while the reader usually says, “I know, but this is your professional account! go make a private account!

Then it gets into this big junky mess of “free speech” or whatever, but people who say “stick to sports” aren’t trying to suppress our First Amendment rights, they’re just asking us to stay on course. People don’t follow me for my AR-15 opinions, they follow me for Union, Sixers, and Eagles content. If I decide to post a tweet that says, “I don’t think a 19-year-old kid needs an AR-15,” I know I risk upsetting some of my pro-gun readers.

Now, it’s true that sports and politics often intersect. If President Trump’s travel ban affects a Muslim athlete trying to sign for the Philadelphia Union, that’s a story. If the Vice President travels to the Winter Olympics and has interactions with foreign dignitaries, that’s a story. If an NFL quarterback kneels during the national anthem to protest social injustice, that’s a story.

That’s all worth talking about, and we do. We write stories about those topics because there does exist a relevant confluence of political and sporting subject matter.

But it has to have substance and merit.

There’s no value in typing, “fuck Donald Trump! he sucks! he’s an orange-colored asshole!” then pressing ‘tweet.’ That doesn’t add anything meaningful to the discussion, nor does writing, “liberal snowflakes can kiss my ass! they’re all pussies!” Another thing that doesn’t help is when Laura Ingraham tells LeBron to “shut up and dribble.”

I mean, that’s totally off-base for so many reasons, but I think Tim is writing about this for tomorrow so I’ll leave it for him.

Here’s the thing; back in the day, journalism was supposed to be unbiased and neutral. Walter Cronkite read the news and you decided on your own what to believe. Now reporters and writers insert themselves and their opinions into the story, and don’t hide the fact that they believe something specifically. Look at the success of outlets like FOX News and MSNBC that tell you what you want to hear instead of just reporting.

Some people say this change in the business is natural and warranted. For example, the old school television station would publish the mug shot of an alleged mass murderer and say, “here’s the suspect, here’s what we know.” In 2018, we wonder if refusing to talk about the killer or refusing to show their face might serve as a deterrent to future shootings, since we aren’t giving them the post-murder glory and notoriety they crave.

Similarly, do I report on the women’s march from the sidelines? Or do I break rank and join the crowd in front of the White House? Some would argue that objectivity is passé these days.

One side feels like it’s our job to force change, challenge convention, and take an active role in making the world a better place. Others believe that we’re unbiased observers and story tellers who should let events ebb and flow on their own. In that vein of thought, should the Supreme Court legislate from the bench, or just interpret the constitution as legal arbiters?

That’s the schism that formed in the news business years ago, which I’m now writing about on a blog.

Personally, the “stick to sports” thing doesn’t really bother me. I’ve unfollowed a grand total of three people in five years due to political overkill. One was a holier-than-thou soccer writer and two were football writers whose timelines featured 80% politics and 20% Eagles. Nothing wrong with the latter pair, it’s just that the imbalance became too much for me. And I know that writers are usually left-leaning, but there’s a certain Flyers personality out there who has alienated some of his readers because he trends in the other direction. It doesn’t feel like it, but this actually is a two-way political street.

So let’s review:

If a sports writer won’t “stick to sports” on Twitter, just unfollow them. And if that writer is okay with alienating some of their readership, then that’s a risk they choose to take. Better yet, if the person presents their opinions in a tasteful and fair way, maybe we can have a reasonable discussion and learn something.

Or is that too much to ask?