So perhaps West Virginia freshman Daxter Miles Jr. was not too smart in calling out Kentucky before their Sweet 16 game last night. Predicting a Mountaineers victory was preferable to pre-signaling defeat. But to claim the Wildcats “don’t play hard” might have been reckless.
But the media’s post-Daxter takedown on Twitter following Kentucky’s 78-39 double-down was an unnecessary slaughter of its own kind. Some samples:
@SportsNation: “Daxter Miles had the same amount of points as Kentucky has losses. None.”
@JimRome: “36-1? Maybe Daxter meant the score.”
@darrenrovell: “Daxter Miles Jr., who said West Virginia would beat Kentucky tonight, finishes with ZERO points for the Mountaineers.”`
@BasketballPics: “Y’all misinterpreted Daxter Miles; He said ‘Kentucky would have a 36-1 run.'”
Reports emerged that Miles “hid” in a bathroom stall and had to be coaxed out to face the media, and the laughs grew louder. (Hey, Dax: For future reference, when the pros hide from the press, they use the training room.)
And just as predictably, when Kentucky player Devin Booker tweeted “36 and WON” postgame, the rout was on off the court as well.
At this point, of course, I should qualify that the shaming was by no means unanimous and many media members either defended Miles’ expression of confidence or at least condemned the over-reaction to it.
Still, one of the most curious unintended consequences of Twitter is its enabling of mass shaming. The verbal equivalents of an embarrassing Snapchat photo descend on an unfortunate individual whose decision deserved the drop, but not the flood.
Sometimes it’s a good thing — when Twitter’s democratic muscle calls the rich and/or powerful to account. But when the media mob attacks an 18-year-old (and the takedown continued old school, on “First Take” and the other morning talk shows), is it going too far?
My thoughts are not directed at the fans. Fans are fans, and if they were rational — well, I shudder to think what we would watch on CBS and three cable channels this week. The UK faithful were as savage toward Miles as would be expected.
For Auburn fans, Miles’ words reminded them of a similar situation involving Tre Mason before the 2013 Iron Bowl. Mason expressed a confidence in facing an Alabama team that was being hailed as a juggernaut similar to this year’s UK hoops team.
Tre did not suffer the same fate. After al.com columnist Kevin Scarbinsky took Mason to task for his comments, the snarky backlash swarmed Scarbinsky more than Mason. And of course, Mason’s team fared better than WVU.
Still, I wonder about those tasked with covering sports. It is bad enough that sports style has evolved into a more personal, opinion-laced style. But throw in the snark potential of Twitter, and if there is a line out there, sports journalists often cross it.
The profile plea, “Tweets are my own” are no excuse. Readers can connect the name dot to the byline dot.
At another place and time, I would have joined in the fun — maybe not toward Miles, but certainly at a more satisfying target. And when the culprit is a misbehaving media member, the sharper the comment, the better.
As I’ve thought it through, a recent article by Kelly McBride of the Poynter Institute provided focus and clarity. Whether as participants or as detached observers who end up making a situation worse, journalists need to be careful around those who play with fire.
McBride concludes, “My hope is that … professional journalists will distance themselves from the shamings of private people that create very little social good, recognizing them as click bait and nothing more. Most Internet stone throwers could be ignored.”
I would extend that standard to shaming of other public figures, including athletes, where there is no social good, only ridicule.
One reason for my re-thinking: Within the past couple of years, I had the chance to interact with a journalist who had been the object of shaming as a result of some reporting that had gone wrong.
I will be honest; I had at first participated in the flip criticisms of the reporter. But from an outside source, I learned some mitigating details that caused me to backtrack on Twitter and to suggest critics take a second look.
From there, a mutual friend on Twitter encouraged me to contact the reporter, who was dealing with the firestorm. So I reached out, in confidence (which is why I am being as vague as possible here).
We talked through the situation and possible remedies. I did suggest some courses of action but was mainly there as a listening ear and an encouraging voice.
The reporter, through excellent subsequent work, has prevailed. The firestorm is but a distant memory, and I don’t want to dredge it up here. We DM on Twitter from time to time. But the experience taught me, maybe more than I was able to help the reporter.
No, it’s not as dramatic as those stories where a celebrity confronts a troll. But it did have a disturbingly similar effect, reminding me that the people we snark on — whether a college basketball freshman or a well-known media member — are flesh and blood and feelings.
That, plus a desire to stand firm within the shifting sands that swirl traditional news and social media, have shaped my thinking.
As I have written before, one of my goals is to avoid being “that guy” on Twitter. When you draw together enough “those guys,” it only gets worse.
No doubt Daxter Miles Jr. has learned his lesson and will probably do his talking on the court from now on.
Sports journalists should realize that for them too, silence can be golden. Rather than talk the talk on Twitter, they should walk the responsible walk.
* Praise and worship standard ‘More Precious Than Silver’ inspired by 1978 french fry theft at Auburn McDonald’s
* Remembering the McLean Deluxe, ‘the burger that made Auburn famous’
* Catching up with Auburn’s former Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue model
* Auburn’s first amazing new scoreboard