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Interviewing the Warriors

"Getting a quote or a story is very similar to pulling teeth. You have to grab that sucker and work it until it bleeds.

By Mike Oseroff

Mike Oseroff is Youth Radio’s resident sports commentator and columnist. Keep checking this space for his weekly updates! You can email him at sports@youthradio.org.

On April 3rd I took my first steps into the seemingly glamorous and prestigious world of the media scene in professional sports. I expected bright lights, friendly faces, and an experience that would last a lifetime. What I got was a huge dose of reality.

For the past month I had planned, made numerous phone calls, and established connections in the Golden State Warriors organization to set up an interview session with some of the players. Along the way I had to deal with cancelled practices, misinformation, and even getting kicked out of the Oakland Marriot by security for trying to get a story. But finally on that memorable Thursday, I got what I wished for: I received press credentials and was allowed an exclusive visit to a Warriors practice to get what I needed.

Growing up this had been my dream: to meet with these pro sports gods and talk to them one-on-one. They were celebrities of the Bay Area, stars of television and commercials. And for one hour the Warriors were mine — or so I thought.

My journey began around 11:30 AM in Downtown Oakland, a far cry away from school, where I was supposed to be. I arrived at the practice facility early, filled with excitement and nervousness at the same time, but eager to get started. I was told by a receptionist to sit and wait, and so I plopped down into a comfy swivel chair with a big screen TV in front of me blasting the NBA channel. Around me were pieces of Warriors memorabilia, jerseys, bottles of Gatorade, and dozens of offices for people in the organization. I relaxed and took it all in. “I could get used to this,” I thought.

As I waited, three guys dressed in casual street clothes trickled into the waiting room where I was sitting and sat down next to me. I didn’t think much of them at first, but it slowly became apparent that these weren’t ordinary dudes.

Finally after waiting for what seemed like an hour, the public relations director, the man who had set this all up for me, waltzed into the room. He shook hands with everyone, and then passed out games notes and statistics for the upcoming game against the Blazers to all four of us. It was then that I realized who the three other guys were. They were the Big Three, the three beat writers who followed and covered the Warriors for their respective newspapers. Matt Steinmetz from the Contra-Costa Times, Brad Weinstein from the San Francisco Chronicle, and Vittorio Tafur from the Oakland Tribune.

The Big Three and I were then led into a balcony room overlooking the basketball courts. It was all too cool. Here I was, skipping school to watch an NBA team practice from an elevated position, with the three most famous basketball writers in the Bay Area. And I could only smile when Gary St. Jean, the GM of the Warriors, and Jim Barnett, their Emmy Winning TV Broadcaster, sat down next to me to watch as well. I said to myself, “It can’t get any better then this.” Funny thing is, I was right.

After they started to wrap up practice, we were all finally led down to the floor to get our interviews. As I followed the Big Three, with their cocky “been here done this” walks, my heart started to beat fast. This was it. I was about to meet the Warriors.

But suddenly, all of my nervousness vanished when I heard someone scream a line that will stay with me forever: “Not you motherf*****s again!”

It was starting PG Gilbert Arenas, one of the famous “soundbites” of the Warriors. He was leaving the floor and heading for the shower, with a huge Cheshire cat grin on his face. The Big Three grabbed Arenas and started asking for quotes, so as subtly as possible I snuck into the huddle and prepared a question. No one seemed to notice I was there.

I watched in shock as the writers would ask Gil a question and he would respond with a half-hearted answer peppered with cuss words. After they had all gone through their rounds and were taking down notes, I tapped him with my microphone. He turned to look at me as if he was noticing me for the first time, stared at me for a second, then asked, “How old are you?” Everyone laughed, including me. It quickly became apparent that he wasn’t going to take me seriously.

I asked him the big question floating on everyone’s minds at the time:

“Gilbert, How many games are you guys gonna win the rest of the season?”
“Seven, all seven,” he responded.
“Even Dallas in Dallas?” I countered.
“Hell yeah, we’re bringing something extra for Dallas in Dallas,” he shot back.

I wanted to ask him more, but some guy butted in with a pair of shoes he wanted Gilbert to sign for charity. Gil took the shoes into his hand as if he were about to sign them, then out of nowhere flung one shoe as far as he could in the direction of his teammates. With that, all anxieties or nervousness I may have had melted away. Gil is only four years older than I am, and I realized even though he’s an NBA superstar, he is still a kid. There was no reason to get butterflies over talking to him — or any of his teammates for that matter.

I looked around and surveyed the scene again in a whole new light. Players were messing around, coaches were taking half court shots, even the Big Three weren’t really being taken seriously. It was all very casual. So I fired up my mic again and prepared a whole new set of questions for the Warriors.

I spotted F Troy Murphy 10 feet from me just chilling and taking shots from the sideline. I walked over with my newfound confidence and hit him with my questions.

“Murph, how you doing today, man?” I asked him.
“Real good,” he responded with a goofy grin.
“You guys gonna win all seven games left?”
“Hell yeah!” he roared back.
“Do you consider yourself a sex symbol in the NBA?”
“Oh no doubt bro, no doubt!”

Hey, they may have been stupid questions but Troy definitely enjoyed the interview. Sure I had come in expecting a professional interview session, but just kidding around with the players suited me just fine.

Now that I had a strategy, the hardest part was getting the players’ attentions. Bob Sura, a veteran guard surely would have something to say regarding the sex symbol question, so I grabbed him while he was heading into the locker room. I asked for a minute of his time, and he obliged by saying he’d be right back. However, when he didn’t emerge from the locker room after 10 minutes I realized I had been dissed.

My next task was then to try to grab a player before he headed down the hallway to the showers, but I wasn’t very successful. Earl Boykins and Mike Dunleavy talked to their trainers. Antawn Jamison talked on a cell phone. Adonal Foyle screamed profanities. Jason Richardson talked to an agent. Sure they all nodded at me as they poured into the hallway, but all I got were insignificant quotes and quips. In their eyes, I was just another fan, not a real reporter.

Finally I watched as the last player C Erick Dampier trudged towards the showers alone. Known for his quiet and stoic personality, I figured he wouldn’t turn me down. Lucky for me I was right, and surprisingly he actually gave me his undivided attention. I was left with a choice: keep on asking dumb questions, or actually ask serious questions and practice my interviewing for the future. I went with the latter, and asked Damp about his predictions for the rest of the season, the team chemistry, and what team(s) the Warriors feared. He responded with serious and thoughtful answers, and saved the profanity as well. It was a solid interview most of the way through, but when my mind went blank and I couldn’t think of another thought provoking question, I ended it with my classic question of the day:

“Do you consider yourself a sex symbol?” Damp looked stunned, asked me to repeat it, laughed, but gave me a serious answer: “No, uh no not really.”

Hey, at least he was honest.

As he walked off, and the entire practice facility was deserted, I finally got to reflect on the whole experience and put it into perspective. And I was able to come out of it with a lot of useful knowledge. Here is some of what I learned at my first day as part of the sports media:

1) Every single one of these athletes is a prima donna. No matter if they are the star, or the 12th man who rides pine and serves the Gatorade, they all think they are the hottest thing in the world. And they really could care less about the media, despite the fact that the media decides and portrays their image for the whole world to see.

2) While they are NBA stars, some of these players are still young and immature, and aren’t the professional and serious characters fans sometimes see them as. Some might still be living with their parents if they didn’t make millions and couldn’t afford big time condos and apartments. Some still might, regardless.

3) Being part of the media scene in professional sports is a lot like being a dentist, a surgeon, or an orthodontist: you make your living dealing with people who don’t want anything to do with you. And getting a quote or a story is very similar to pulling teeth. You have to grab that sucker and work it until it bleeds, and in the end your “patient” usually thinks very little of you.

But hey, I got to skip school to hang out with NBA superstars. I’m not complaining. I’ll just be a little more prepared for next time. Until then, peace.

Check out more of Mike's columns!