
I was recently hired by a soft-drink company to write a profile on a pro kayaker and quickly discovered he is one of the most controversial and least well-liked athletes in his sport even though he has done more than enough to prove himself as one of the best. This is a bit of a dilemma because I’ve been hired to write a promotional piece, a glorified advertisement, not an exposé. I’m supposed to make him sound good.
I’ve run into this before – the unspoken rule that it’s not cool to toot your own horn or tout your accomplishments, even if it means making a better living. It’s almost like reverse snobbery, when humility is more revered than bravado.
I start by visiting the athlete’s website, which is splashed with photos and magazine articles as well as abridged quotes that all basically declare that he is the best kayaker on the planet. I go to the “stories” section and download articles with type so small and blurry that it’s almost impossible to see, but I try to read them anyway, my nose pressed against the screen, head aching from trying to focus on impossibly fuzzy text.
This is where I find the good stuff. A Men’s Journal article quotes his kayaking peers who refuse to be named but go on the record anyway to say things like: “I’d rather cut my arm off than hang out with that guy. He has no soul.”
When I get him on the phone, he’s impressive, engaging and passionate. So what if he’s working it, doing the best he can to promote his own career? Athletes only have a certain shelf life before age, physical health and the next generation come and take it away. Sports like kayaking are not exactly cash cows, with only so much endorsement money to go around. Who can fault the guy for wanting to milk it while he can?
There’s an athlete like this in every sport. Shaun Palmer used to show up at major snowboarding events in his signature three-piece suits, handmade by his mother from materials like gold lamé and the American flag. Skier Glen Plake can still be found at industry events with his signature mohawk, even though he’s decades past his prime, promoting this or that. And what about the Anna Kournikovas of the world, the athletes who look better than they play? There are plenty of athletes out there guilty of a lot more than self-promotion (like murder and rape, for starters), so what’s the problem?
From a writer’s standpoint, it makes my job a lot easier when an athlete a) bothers to return my phone calls and b) actually has something to say when she does. There’s nothing worse than sitting at a keyboard with fingers hovering above the keys just waiting for something – anything – you can actually use.
It usually goes something like this:
Question: “So, how did you get into wakeboarding?”
Answer: “It’s just really super fun.”
Q: “Why is it super fun?”
A: “Just ’cause it’s rad.”
Q: “But why is it rad? What makes it rad? Please, tell me what makes it rad!”
And so on and so forth.
So guys like my kayaker friend are a dream because they understand that being a pro requires a certain degree of professionalism. I’ll admit my kayaker friend is a little overbearing. While I appreciate his attention and time, he tends to send me the same information over and over and checks in on me frequently, monitoring my progress like I’m working for him personally.
When I respond that I have finished the bio, he writes back: “Sounds great. I’m looking forward to seeing it. I hope you didn’t make me sound too much of an arrogant, self-centered, cocky jerk. Just kidding.”
I reply in kind, bringing up a few of the points I have raised here about thinking maybe the kayaking community is being a bit harsh – an opening he can’t resist.
“That sounds like a great idea for a magazine article!” he writes. “It would create a little controversy. Just what I like. Are you interested in writing it?”
Man, he’s good. He continues to lubricate my ego with comments about how much he loves my writing. After finding my photo on the Internet, he writes: “Wow! You didn’t tell me you were hot!”
It’s then that I begin to understand what some of his peers might be talking about. When it comes right down to it, there’s a fine line between “pro” and “ho.” Let’s face it – some athlete’s best performances have nothing to do with sports.
Freelance columnist Alison Berkley can be reached at alison@berkleymedia.com.



