EDITOR'S NOTE: In June 2004 I began a new venture as managing editor of both Northfield News and Faribault Daily News. This column originally appeared in the Northfield News on Aug. 11, 2006.
No one wants to be Bill Buckner. He's the former Red Sox first baseman who during Game Six of the 1986 World Series watched a routine ground ball dribble between his legs and allow the New York Mets to win the game in extra innings. Two days later the Mets won Game Seven and elongated the Red Sox's cursed history. Never mind that the Sox's relief pitchers gave up a two-run lead with two outs in the 10th inning, poor Buckner still is remembered, even 20 years later, for his error in front of millions and blamed for the Sox losing the series. (But that's entirely another story.) Well, every now and then the newspaper business can make you feel like Bill Buckner: Wednesday started as many others do for me. I came in after a late night putting the paper out and started weeding through the e-mails, the phone calls, the odds and ends left over from past days. And then the phone calls started coming in rapid succession, first to the front desk and then to me. And let me tell you from experience, when the calls start coming in at that speed to a newspaper, it's not because we've done something well. In Wednesday's edition, our lead story about the hospital breaking ground on its Northfield clinic didn't jump anywhere. It was supposed to; it had in my original design plan and then during the production process the rest of the story got pulled off another page, never to reappear. Hence, the story started on Page 1A and never finished. It was a bad mistake ... my mistake for thousands of people to see, my "Buckner" as the more famous baseball error has become to be known. Readers, I screwed up. In the heat of producing Page 1, I didn't follow my checklist and didn't see that I had omitted the story's jump. It was no one else's error, and not a reflection on the writer, nor anyone else on this staff. It was my error; I let the ball dribble between my legs. Thankfully, I have the opportunity to right the wrong and we've published the story (the full version this time) on Page 3A in today's issue. Nonetheless, the feeling of blowing it is not fun, and blowing it in front of thousands is less fun. Interestingly, I once heard Buckner comment during an interview years after that fateful World Series game that he'd played professional baseball for years and never had done something so woeful; then it happened to him during the World Series. I can tell you that I've produced thousands of pages over the years and never dropped a jump; then I did. I've committed other errors, but I had never dropped a jump until now. Like I said, no one wants to be Bill Buckner. I can honestly tell you that as much as an error in our paper bothers you as a reader, as the News' managing editor it bothers me even more. I can guarantee you that no matter what you have to tell me on the phone, you can't make me feel worse than the disappointment I feel when I let our readers down. And I think my boss, the big guy, can attest to that. Actually, I think that's a common trait among all of us here at the News. But in the newspaper business we don't get to dwell on our mistakes long. After fielding the calls about the error on Wednesday, I still had another issue to get out for today. So, this is a new issue, I've corrected my mistake and I've moved forward. It's the nature of what we do, and thankfully my error won't haunt me as long as Bill Buckner's did. Unfortunately for me, this isn't the first mistake I've made; nor will it be the last. And over the years, I've learned the only way to face the error is to get back in the box and take another swing, or in Buckner's case, go back out on the field and play your position. In fact, sometimes I think it might be easier playing professional baseball. Considering the number of times we get things right versus the number of times we get it wrong, I think it would translate into one heck of a batting average. And nowadays, any batter hitting .250 is considered worth millions. But seriously, I apologize to the fine folks at Northfield Hospital and I congratulate you on your milestone. It is a worthy story and unfortunately I erred in not completing the jump on Wednesday. Hopefully, our re-print rights the wrong. And to our readers, I only ask that you keep tuning in to watch, er, I mean, read: I'll keep getting back in the batters box and giving you my best effort, if you can accept I can't bat 1.000. -- Devlyn Brooks is managing editor of the Northfield News. He can be reached at dbrooks@northfieldnews.com.
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