The Ballad Of Trey Wingo
I cry for you, Trey Wingo. "SportsCenter" is my favorite show, my touchstone in the morning and my bedtime story at night, and you, Trey Wingo, with your easy wit and your silly name, have always been one of my favorite anchors.
You are not an A-list diva--you are not Dan Patrick or Kenny Mayne or Stuart "Boo-yah!" Scott, thank heavens. And that's why you are here in Salt Lake City, isn't it? A town where ESPN, by virtue of NBC's deathgrip on these Winter Olympics, can do little more than turn on a camera and hold up a sign that says "Winter Olympics."
You are not even allowed inside the media center. It's warm in here, and they've got free massages. But NBC has locked you out--their right, part of their exclusive agreement--so you are forced to broadcast from--where are you, exactly? On TV, I see buildings, mountains, stars, but I can't tell. OK, so NBC has blocked you from the media center, but does that mean you must broadcast outside? Does the agreement bar you from any covered structure? A party tent? A sofa-cushion fort?
Did you lose a bet with Berman?
You look so cold out there, Trey Wingo. The new goatee was a smart move, even on your boyish, soap-scrubbed face. It's to keep away the chill, right? Or perhaps to give you a bit of the Western, wintry, rugged, you-call-this-cold? manly-man thing? My friend, it's working. But to look at you, wrapped up tight in that bulky blue jacket, puffs of frosty air wafting out of your mouth whenever you say "Apolo" or "Picabo" or "Pelletier," you look like you'd give anything to be covering bowling.
And who can blame you? I know the situation. Because of NBC's exclusive deal, your footage can only be used for 24 hours after NBC's West Coast coverage concludes. And even then you can only use six minutes of footage a day. You're also not permitted at the sporting venues. I hear security's got posters of you stuck to the metal detectors--Oooh! But without the goatee! Very crafty, Trey Wingo!--so if you want to do an interview with an athlete, you basically have to convince him to meet you at a bar downtown. So each night, you do your three-minute SportsCenter report from Salt Lake--taped, not live, and highlight-free. You and the teleprompter. That's all. "This is journalism?" you surely wonder.
But it gets worse. You're not only fighting the CNBC/MSNBC/plain-old-NBC Axis of Evil, you're also fighting your bosses back in Bristol, aren't you? See, Trey Wingo, ESPN has the X-Games, the edgy alternative to the Olympics, and the boys over at ESPN corporate would like to think that there's a rivalry brewing. (Even though the ratings for the X-Games would barely make "Law & Order" flinch, let alone Michelle Kwan and the rest of her brood.) See, Trey Wingo, from their perspective, your pain is their pleasure. It's in ESPN's interest to make the Olympics seem antiquated, insignificant, unnewsworthy. And what better way to show that than not to show the Olympics?
Now, being decent, honorable journalists, ESPN can't just up and ignore the Olympics--especially when the Games are on our soil. That would be irresponsible, and fellow journalists, like yours truly here, would call them on it. But darned if NBC hasn't given them a helping hand with all the blackout stuff and venue restrictions.
(Silly NBC. Don't you realize that it's in your best interest to make it seem like the Olympics are the hugest thing on the planet? That they're everywhere, inescapable? And don't you realize that you can't do that without "SportsCenter," the hugest sports program on the planet? Heck, there's been competition in the world of sports--from the NBA All-Star Game and the Daytona 500--and you, NBC, let ESPN make them their top stories instead of your Games. Why, this has been the most successful Olympics in U.S. history, for cryin' out loud, but from watching "SportsCenter," you'd think we weren't even winning cardboard medals. Silly NBC.)
But back to ESPN's bosses. See, you work with those guys, Trey Wingo, so maybe you can help me out with a few puzzlers. Even though "SportsCenter" can't show highlights, aren't the Olympics still more newsworthy than, say, a Miami-Rutgers college basketball game? Yeah, I thought so too. So why, on Sunday, when the U.S. won a surprise gold medal in speedskating (Chris Witty in the 1000m), did your daily Olympic recap not air until 25 minutes into the late "SportsCenter"--after two commercial breaks and the Miami-Rutgers highlights?
I'm sure you're wondering the same thing, Trey Wingo. And maybe you, like me, are complaining about it too. But out there, in the cold, by yourself, no one can hear your cries. But I can. So this cry's for you, big guy. Now get inside and have some cocoa.
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Devin Gordon is the editor of Newsweek Digital, the umbrella company encompassing Newsweek's various web properties, including Newsweek.com and Newsweek Mobile. Previously, from June 2007 to June 2009, he was senior editor of the magazine's Periscope section, which was nominated for a National Magazine Award for "best section" in 2008. Previously, he was a senior writer, writing about film, television, sports and popular culture for the Arts and Entertainment and Society sections. He was part of the Newsweek reporting team for the past three Olympic games, including the Salt Lake City winter games in 2002, the 2004 Summer Olympics in Athens, where he covered swimmer Michael Phelps, and the 2006 Winter Olympics in Turin, Italy, for which he wrote Newsweek's cover story about skier Bode Miller.
During his tenure at the magazine, Gordon has written about everything from HBO's "The Wire" to rock band Coldplay to Oscar-winner film directors Ang Lee and Peter Jackson. He profiled "Curb Your Enthusiasm" creator Larry David on the eve of the series' fourth season debut, and "The Dark Knight" director Christopher Nolan just prior to the film's record breaking release. For Newsweek's year-end double-issue of 2002, he wrote "The Matrix Makers," (Jan. 6, 2003), a cover story about the two upcoming "Matrix" sequels—the first behind-the-scenes look at the new films by any publication.
Gordon joined Newsweek in 1998, after graduating from Duke University. His first cover story was "The Dominator" (June 18, 2001), an examination of what makes Tiger Woods tick. He lives in Brooklyn, NY.
For inquiries, please contact The Daily Beast at editorial@thedailybeast.com.




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