PARIS—You’d think a professional organization of journalists that just celebrated its 85th anniversary would have some sort of process by which they, I don’t know, vet prospective members to insure that they’re not accidentally accrediting half-baked Canadian web hacks who think that penning a list of the ugliest footballers in the world constitutes ground-breaking sports reporting. You’d think.
And yet, as of the precise moment that the La Poste factrice rang my doorbell this morning (at the ungodly hour of 9am – what do they think I am, a professional journalist?), and had me sign for the registered letter she slid into my hands, a letter that contained a credit-card-sized piece of hard plastic with my name and photograph on it, I became an official, card-carrying member of the Association Internationale de la Presse Sportive.
Apparently, in the eyes of the AIPS I’m a real sportswriter now, one of 10,500 (now 10,501, I suppose) accredited member journalists operating in 150 countries. Weird, huh?
Here’s a brief history of the founding of the AIPS (by those finely dressed white males in the boxing ring at the top of this post), pilfered directly from the organization’s website:
“The AIPS was actually founded in 1924 during the Olympic Games in Paris, at the Headquarters of the Sporting Club of France, (rue d’Elysee), by France’s Frantz Reichel (Press Chief of the Paris Olympic Games) and the Belgian Victor Boin, assisted by their colleagues Tegner (Sweden), Sekora (Czechoslovakia) and Pozzi (France) who held there the first AIPS Congress July 1-3, 1924. 29 nations were present … Eight of the represented countries gathered their journalists within a national association, observing also the statutes of AIPS. Those countries were: France, Belgium, Sweden, Italy, Poland, Hungary, Germany and Austria … The first statutes of AIPS mentions among the aims of the Association the following: to enhance the cooperation between its member associations in defending sport and the professional interest of their members; to strengthen the friendship, solidarity and common interests between sports journalists of all countries; to assure the best possible working conditions for the members.”
To borrow a downhome expression that the current occupant of the White House employed countless times on last year’s campaign trail, this whole topic is at risk of becoming a little too “inside baseball.” I know this. But there’s no arguing with the manner in which the existence of a professional sporting media has changed the way, for better or worse, that we consume and think about sports. From boxing beat-writers wiring post-fight recaps to newspapers around the world in time for the morning edition, to the familiar science of baseball box scores, to NFL television-blackout laws and the effect of viewership demographics on start times for World Series games, the sporting landscape ebbs and flows and develops in tune with the writers and reporters and media organizations who cover it. Think about how ESPN and the philosophy of around-the-clock sports news has revolutionized the way we think about athletics over the past 25 years, for better and for worse. Now run along and read Deadspin; the next new edition of SportsCenter’s not on for another hour-and-a-half.
But back to the topic at hand: me. The most shocking part of all of this – me being accidentally let into the sportswriters’ club – is the fact that the AIPS is based in France. After 18 months spent navigating the bureaucracy of this country (a common expression that we often use to sum up the twisted rationale behind administrative failures is WTF, or “Welcome to France”), I would normally be downright stunned that my application for membership had been accepted. (edit: AIPS is based in Lausanne, Switzerland, where they speak French. The depiction of French bureaucracy, though, remains wholly and maddeningly accurate)
Ah, but remember that part in the history of the organization about the “national association?” Canada has one too, Sports Media Canada (of which I am also now, apparently, a member), and that organization is the one that supposedly vets and recommends Canadian members to the AIPS. And let’s be honest: we’ve always been a nation of homers, eager and willing to root for and support our own, no matter how dubious the nature of the skill set in question. It’s why there are still Leafs fans out there, isn’t it?
So what to do now with my AIPS card? I suppose I’ll strive to live up to the lofty ethos espoused in that same 1924 founding congress held in Paris, just a dozen or so blocks from where I type these words:
“While defending their interests, journalists consider it their duty to thoroughly cooperate in view of achieving the global aim of progress and education which would make it possible for the spirit of sports to effectively turn to life its high mission of brotherhood and peace among nations. Sports journalists’ main concern is to be examples of impartial judgment and loyal opinion”
Beyond that, I don’t think that using my VIP status to try to sneak my way into the press box for the gold medal hockey game at next February’s Vancouver Olympics wouldn’t be too ambitious an idea, would it? After that, the final of the World Cup next summer in Johannesburg should be a piece of cake, right?
As for my next live sporting event, this card won’t be much use to me. This Wednesday, I’m taking my Dad to see Paris’s first-division rugby squad, Stade Français (they of the intimidating hot-pink-and-flowers kit), take on the ferocious fifteen from Montaubon. Normally I’d flash the card and make some sort of excuse about my father being an interview subject for an in-depth investigative article on the top-secret power-brokers of the Super 14, and then maybe hope for a sweet buffet spread in the press room.
Unfortunately, I’ve already paid for the tickets. Once a sucker, always a sucker.
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