People often forget how firmly the craft of sportswriting is rooted in both journalistic reporting and classic narrative, and even moreso how many of the great writers this country has ever produced have spent time covering such pursuits. Norman Mailer, Hunter S. Thompson, Ernest Hemingway, David Foster Wallace, Chuck Klosterman: all literary titans of great skill and influence, and all selectively focusing their words on battles both on the field and off.

But that is not the problem with sportswriting.

Somewhere along the line, it became every long-form, mainstream media sportswriter’s imperative to turn whatever they cover into a story rather than simple news, even if what they’re covering is in fact the simplest of news. Bobby Abreu might not get paid as much as he’d like. Mark Teixera probably will.

Do we really need that many words telling us these things? Multi-thousand word screeds by the highly-paid Jerry Crasnick imploring us to weep for an All-Star, Gold Glove winner and Silver Slugger who, to date, has made $92 million playing a child’s game?

Assume for a second Abreu – or Ben Sheets or Joe Crede or some other question mark of a free agent – ultimately doesn’t get a contract this winter. Let’s say every club which needed their services in November found a cheaper, more reliable replacement by March.

Now ask yourself: so what? The micro-economies around any of those players – assistants, agents, managers – will move on, their old clubs’ t-shirts will simply roll off the line with different names stamped on the back, someone else’s face will appear on next year’s baseball cards and the scorned free agent will still have a pile of money to sleep on at night. So what, exactly, is the point in going out of your way to rehash the supposed plight of a wealthy, wealthy mercenary in search of a raise? Doesn’t everyone want a raise?

And here we get back to the problem with so much of what passes for sports journalism these days. It’s not that it can’t be important or moving or serious or insightful – it’s just that too many of its practictioners have forgotten their work, much like its subject, doesn’t always have to be.