I met John Feinstein in the press room of the Capital Centre before a Washington Bullets game in 1986, squatting on an NBA assignment with Phil Jackman as a 17-year old kid. The Washington Post legend was a big shot even back then to any young man who wanted to be a sports writer at a newspaper.
My friend, decorated author, venerable columnist and sage reporter died this week and as was once written about his colleague Clem Florio by his other fellow colleague Vinnie Perrone: “We’ve lost an absolute force of nature.”
John Feinstein and I had an awkwardly weird and beautiful friendship that had been strengthened by deep conversation and mutual respect over the last two decades since we somehow found ourselves in Brian Billick’s coaching office after games in stadia all over the country during the 2004 season.
Feinstein had already written A Season On The Brink and a dozen other well-known books when he convinced Brian Billick, Ozzie Newsome, David Modell and Steve Bisciotti (through his Gary Williams tentacles in College Park) to allow him unprecedented full and complete access to every facet of the Baltimore Ravens’ organization for a full calendar year to produce Next Man Up.
I vividly remember the first time I walked into Billick’s postgame office underneath the stadium – this was a weekly tradition of mine that is unheard of in modern sports but Brian and I had a pretty special relationship – and Feinstein was sitting on the couch, already performing the personal “second-guessing” of the head coach that I believed was my role over the first five seasons of his Super Bowl-winning reign in Baltimore.
John knew me pretty well by then as the “Nasty Nestor sports radio station owner guy” from Baltimore and it was pretty clear that he was befuddled about why Billick would like me at all or allow me that kind of access all along but I suppose the fact that I was always there – with permission and purpose (and humor) – kinda won the legendary author over enough to think that I must’ve somehow belonged. So, very quickly, the territorial pissings of my youth subsided and it turned into a highly-anticipated weekly football and political debate between Brian and John, with me often serving as the moderator or drink-stirrer. (The Ravens started 7-3 and lost four of six to end the 2004 season so it became very unpretty after losses in New England, Indianapolis and Pittsburgh.)
Two decades later, every time John Feinstein returned my texts and engaged me in many hours of radio conversations that we’ll be sharing today and all weekend at WNST-AM 1570 and here at Baltimore Positive – and many modern ones are available on Youtube – it validated some part of the wannabe media child in me who loved sports and sportswriting and wanted to be taken seriously by the best of the best.
8
Even 34 years into my career, it meant something every time John came on the show because it reminded me that I was doing this journalism and sports thing at the highest level to have earned his time, respect and wisdom.
Feinstein’s visits with me were routinely the best piece I’d do in any given week. Upon his death, I’ve somehow amassed nearly 24 hours of meaty, lengthy conversations with laughs, seriousness, patriotism, journalism, and the stories behind why his work was truly a baptism and standard of what my writing always needs to be.
When the Ravens won Super Bowl XLVII and I was on the trail to writing Purple Reign 2: Faith, Family and Football, the first thing I did as I was I gathering my initial notes to prepare in February 2013 was to voraciously read “Next Man Up” to borrow the voice and tone of John Feinstein – I wanted to channel his prose and background storytelling – and write completely in third person, imitating his style as best as a poor kid from Dundalk could muster.
A good read, soiled – perhaps?
His death on Thursday shook me because I realized when it was time to write a championship Baltimore sports book and try to be a real grown-up author, John Feinstein was my purple north star. And, sadly, I don’t think I ever truly discussed the “art” of writing with him but I did ask him what makes a great sports columnist a few years ago. When I stop sobbing and grieving his loss, I’ll go and listen to it and find some inspiration for my perspiration.
I owe him such a debt of gratitude for his time, wisdom, courage, words and the gift of his presence in my life.
I texted him two weeks ago because he always came on my show in March:
8“Hi from Nes. Would love to have to you back on the show next week. Hoops. Golf. Books. Oh, and the fall of democracy should probably be the lead…”
He’ll never reply.
That crushes me but it made me write this tribute to him, his work and his decency as a citizen, person and friend.
John Feinstein was a great writer and a great human to have in your life. I know so many of you will miss his work.
I will miss him.
