Kevin's Fight Against Leukemia

Sporting news ...

The manatee was on television once, and it wasn't good. Her eyes kept looking up, as if a script was taped to the ceiling. Ayako didn't stutter or mumble but she wasn't exactly smooth either. An Oscar award is not in her future.

She did a commercial for her driving instructor on the Big Island's public access channel about four years ago. I still have the VHS tape and I goof on her big-time whenever we watch it. Next to watching the Little One fall down while trying to kick a soccer ball, nothing gives me a bigger laugh than her 90 seconds of fame.

Of course, she gives as good as she gets. She counter-punches my audacity to a pulp, reminding me that I was supposed to be in the commercial, too, but chickened out. I'm unable to multi-task, thinking, talking, breathing and looking at the camera all at the same time. To her credit, she talked for the full 90 seconds on the first take, without any help.

At the University of Hawaii, most of my journalism friends took an introduction television class and those with poise, talent and the ability to talk in complete sentences detoured in that direction, like OC16's Dave Vinton, a natural in front of the camera.

I noticed that all good TV people slightly move their heads. If not, you look like a robot. There's one guy (I can't remember his name) on KITV who nods his head really hard like he's dozing off. A former KITV news broadcaster tilted his head while talking. That's a tough thing to do. I'd probably fall over.

The other thing I noticed is that all good broadcasters don't have annoying habits like athletes. Kobe Bryant licks his lips, a lot. Shaquille O'Neal sounds like he has a speech impediment. Michael Jordan sounds like he drank a whole bottle of Nyquil. Most athletes sprinkle their sentences with, "You know," like, "I shot the ball good, you know. And I got good help from my teammates, you know. It was a good win for us, you know what I'm saying." The words "good" and "you know" are the easiest to remember for athletes.

Golfers are the best interviews because they can form complete sentences and actually look at the person asking the questions, acknowledging their existence. Baseball, basketball and football players don't look at the media rodent (unless they're attractive airheads) asking questions and never call the riffraff by name. Not all athletes are ignorant. Mike Mussina, the New York Yankees righthander, went to Stanford, so he can probably do his own taxes. Shaq graduated from LSU, so he must be somewhat smart, even though he seems really dumb. Being a sportscaster is probably not in his future, though.

Maybe being a play-by-play guy is easier. There's no reading of the teleprompter. But you have to use your brain to think about what to say and describe the action. I would have a lot of verbal stumbles like, "Punahou plays, uh, Saint Louis in the Division I title game, uh, for its fifth championship in a row, uh, in an all-ILH battle. It should be a really, uh, good game because, uh, both teams have, uh, played each so many, uh, times, uh, during, uh, the ILH season." Or I would be talking pigeon all the time, "Brah, it's gonna be one good game. Eh, Punahou the best and that other team, Saint Louis, they all right. They good, good. Both teams da kine. They hit the ball good. Shoots, commercial first and then the game."

Of course, thinking and talking, at the same time, is not my strong suit. That's why sports writing is perfect for me. Too bad I can't be paid to watch TV.

Sporting news ...

Honolulu Star-Bulletin sportswriters Paul Honda and Dave Reardon hit home runs with their coverage of the state baseball championships. Stories that clearly and concisely describe the games are nice. But ones that give the reader something that they don't know are much better. That was the case with Honda's insightful story on Punahou's 4-0 victory over St. Louis for the Division I title and Reardon's thoughtful column.

Good writers usually have a "hook" for their lead, something that sparks curiosity and reels the reader in. Honda's first eight words fit perfectly in place. "This gem was a year in the making." Best sports lead I've read in a long, long time. It's short, simple and interesting. It's far better than writing, "Punahou beat St. Louis 4-0 to win the Division I state championship."

Honda wrote that Punahou's winning pitcher Reece Kiriu was scheduled to start last year's championship but didn't. The Star-Bulletin scribe got a golden quote from Jeeter Ishida, who started last year, "That was the game of his life. He was waiting for this chance since last year."

The piece had a really nice flow because Honda kept dropping nuggets of information and insight within the game story, like describing why Ishida didn't pitch, and how the Buffanblu recovered, and what makes Kiriu special.

Also, it's wonderful for the reader when the story tells how a guy got the job done. It's one thing to write that a pitcher retired 10 batters in a row. It's head-and-shoulders better when the story offers something more.

Honda had back-to-back solid paragraphs with: "Kiriu baffled Saint Louis' normally potent lineup with a hard-breaking curveball and fastball consistently at the knees. He pitched on two days rest.

"I'll tell you, the secret is Pat Ariki, " Kiriu said of Punahou's trainer. "They did great physical therapy on my arm."

Honda's story was brilliant from the first sentence to the finish. Near the end, he tossed in two stellar paragraphs, "For (coach Eric) Kadooka, who endured a lion's share of criticism as Punahou finished third in the regular season, it was quite a trek." Then Honda followed with another hit, "Punahou's small-ball approach netted key wins over Saint Louis in the Interscholastic League of Honolulu tournament, as well as last night's victory."

Honda put in a lot of legwork, talking to five people and dealing with a fast-approaching deadline. Most writers already have a skeleton in place with the story nearly completed, except for quotes. But with time moving like a fastball, it's easy to drop the ball and produce a disorganized mess.

But Honda's story, with 782 words, was clear, concise and insightful. It was a gem. Reardon's column "Coaches recall gems on diamond" was equally fantastic.

Columns are supposed to be different from stories. Columns are supposed to offer the writer's opinion and the best columns tell the reader why. Reardon's well-written piece did both.

His first four paragraphs went: Single, double, triple, homer in story impact. Reardon wrote:

"Maybe 24 teams in two divisions is too many for you in the state baseball tournament(s).

It is for me.

But we don't want to go back to the other extreme.

Les Uyehara remembers when it was just one eight-team tourney and a Punahou-Saint Louis matchup like last night's was impossible."

There are 19 paragraphs in Reardon's 587-word column and each one is a hit. There's so much information and insight and even a little bit of Reardon's sly humor that it's too big a task to describe.

It's a column worth reading many times over. It's one that should be bookmarked and printed and saved. It's a gem.