Sigh...it happens.
Over the weekend I got news that WGCH would be broadcasting the Greenwich/Ridgefield hockey game, but there was a caveat. If it started after 6:00, we would be OK. It not, then we had a conflict.
The Cards and Tigers face off at 5:10 on Wednesday. Despite our efforts, we just can't make it happen. So that was disappointing news, but I'm taking a good approach to it, since after 16 years, I have no other choice. Be mad? What good does it do me?
Back at the office in Ridgefield, the phone rang with a perturbed reader on the line. The object of her ire?
Me.
I wrote an article last week about a young man who is in a school program. I liked him - he was refreshing in his candor that school comes easy to him. He doesn't go crazy studying, and strikes the best balance between fun and school.
Apparently, that didn't sit well with the person on the phone, who felt our guy wasn't the best representation. Additionally, he wasn't the only one in the scholarship program.
Let me be clear: the article I was assigned was about him. Only. Him.
In other words: I did my job.
But from across the office, I could hear the phone conversation.
"If Rob had taken two minutes, he would have seen there was another finalist."
Well, that's great, but the story wasn't about the other finalist. It was about the one I wrote the story on - whose family touched base with us in the first place.
I also heard perhaps the ultimate veiled putdown: "Is Rob new?"
It looks like I'll be doing a follow-up story on this second kid, but here again we find ourselves waging the "everybody gets a trophy" war.
Sad.
EDIT - These stories are meant to be lighthearted and fun. I meant no harm or ill will here, so I apologize if this offends. I'm not trying to air dirty laundry. Honestly it was attempt to make light of something.
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