Audio By Carbonatix
Never has the word dickwad been used with such eloquence.
If you don’t frequent the journalism aggregate website Gangrey.com, you are missing out on some of the best writing in the country (in addition to an occasional New Times story).
But more recently, you’ve been missing a very entertaining (and very nasty) war of words among some of America’s best magazine writers — all inspired by the most controversial member of the LeBroshades.
Here’s what happened:
It was a post directing people to ESPN.com senior writer Wright Thompson’s extraordinary tale of the heartbroken Clevelanders left in LeBron’s wake. (If you have a few minutes, it is certainly worth the read.) The story opens with the sentiments of Esquire writer Scott Raab, a devoted, tattooed Cleveland sports fan working on a book about LeBron leaving who calls James “The Whore of Akron.”
In a comment complimenting the article, magazine writer Stephen Rodrick, who penned the cover story in this month’s Men’s Journal, also pointed out something about Raab, saying:
“Did anyone notice that Raab doesn’t live in Cleveland? He left Cleveland a long time ago to live in suburban NYC and work with all-stars at GQ and now Esquire. Kinda like LeBron leaving Cleveland to go live in Miami and work with all-stars! Everyone moves to be near like-minded people and be in a place that fits them. I did it, Raab did it, James did it. It’s pretty much an American rite of passage. Ok, James did it in a supremely dickish way. But call me when Scott moves to Shaker Heights, takes a pay cut, and goes to work for the Plain Dealer.”
Less than 24 hours later, Raab came on and responded:
“Seriously? A journo comparing me and my career to LeBron and his? To
make a point about what? How much I meant to Cleveland? How hard the
city wanted to keep me? How I shit all over it on my way out?… You didn’t seem like an
ignoramus or a schoolmarm. But this is such bullshit that to further
engage with you about it is beneath even me.”
He pointed out that he once gave Rodrick a ride, adding, “Call a cab next time, dickwad.”
Then Rodrick replied. “Well this once again proves that journalists are the folks who most like
dishing out criticism and punishment,” Rodrick said, “but least like it when it comes
back their way even in the mildest form.”
He pointed out that they’ve both done stories about Dennis Rodman, and they both know “how a fucked up family life can give you a skewed sense of right and wrong that takes a lifetime to put right.” He said:
“When James announced his decision, I couldn’t believe it, the audacity
for him to do it as a hour long special was the greatest wrong moves in
American history since Custer. But the rage toward him since then has done the impossible: you’ve made him an almost sympathetic character!”
Then Raab again:
“Are you fucking insane? I’ve spent the past month happily giving and
happily taking shit in public about this, on the air, in print, and
online, and I won’t even have a book to sell until 2012. Who the fuck
are you to speak for an entire profession? Motherfucking idiot, I wasn’t
reacting to your ‘criticism’; I was reacting to your callow stupidity.
Because anyone seriously comparing my departure from Cleveland to
LeBron’s truly is a fucking moron…Go fuck yourself.”
Then Rodrick again:
“I listened to you on a podcast of Dan LeBatard’s 12/2 radio show. That’s
the one where you said you wanted to put yourself in a position to step
between LeBron and the chalk and throw a beer in his face. The hosts
gave you multiple chances to say you were joking. You did not… That was a great suggestion about going and fucking myself. Best idea of the day. Give me about seven minutes.”
Then Raab:
“I think you’re mischaracterizing the LeBatard spot, which was at least
20 minutes, but anyone who cares can find it and form his own opinion. I tried to bribe the Cavs to put me between LeBron and the chalk, and
pledged passive resistance only. They said no. Just for the record…Finally, ‘Call me when Scott moves to Shaker Heights, takes a pay cut,
and goes to work for the Plain Dealer’ is a call-out, an ad hominem
attack. It’s not an argument — it’s a cheap shot. I was surprised and
disappointed to see your name attached, but then I remembered: You
didn’t even offer to help pay for gas.That’s a joke, by the way. About the gas. Just for the record.”
As they bantered back and forth, other writers — some of the most celebrated scribes in the business — weighed in on the bitter discussion. Writers here have been honored with everything from National Magazine
Awards to Livingstons to Pulitzers, and their work has been anthologized
in several of the Best American books.
There were comments from Esquire‘s Chris Jones, Sports Illustrated’s Thomas Lake, Michael Kruse and Ben Montgomery of the St. Pete Times (who also runs the site),ESPN’s
Justin Heckert who recently left ESPN the Magazine, and Thompson himself. The Washington Post‘s Gene Weingarten, winner of two of the last three Pulitzer Prizes in the feature writing category, chimed in with a joke: “I could not agree more with all of you.”
The thread serves to illustrate two things: 1) The continuously galvanizing debate over LeBron, between the people who it seems will never forgive him for leaving Cleveland and the people who think those people are taking everything too seriously, and 2) That Gangrey has truly become some sort of 21st-century, digital writer’s bar, replete with technical discussions, celebrations of some of the best journalism of
all time, a reinvigorating zest for storytelling, and, as seen here,
some nasty fights.
As the folks at Longreads said recently, “Gangrey.com is the heart and soul of long-form journalism.”
Eventually Rodrick extended an olive branch: “I think it was Chief Wahoo who said ‘I will fight no more.'” And he offered to buy Raab a steak dinner.
Raab agreed, noting, “You and I have no bad blood between us. Like sports, this shit is good
clean fun; however nasty it gets on the field, in the end it’s only a
game. I can’t think ill of you and think well of myself. You’re a good
guy.”
Then the discussion turned to the awesome independent movie Winter’s Bone.
As one commenter put it: “Damn… another great barfight turns into a circle jerk.” You can read the whole thing here.
It may not have been Ernest Hemingway offering to strap on boxing gloves or Norman Mailer unbuttoning his shirt, but for fans of all things literary, this is good stuff.
