Not sure what’s more impressive – getting cussed out (repeatedly) by Reggie Jackson, or playing on a basketball team with Michael Jordan. Gene Wojciechowski has one of the coolest journalism jobs in the country – he’s one of the lead columnists for ESPN.com.

Q: Let’s start with a team near and dear to you, the Cubs. You said their loss to the Dodgers wasn’t a choke. What about Dempster’s walks in game one (choking under pressure?) and then the four errors in game two? If you have a spectacular regular season as the Cubs did, and then fail under pressure in the postseason is that a choke? Do you think anything significant has to be done to get this team to end the nine-game postseason skid? Or can this same group succeed next year?

How about a new word: a cho-llapse–a combination of choke and collapse (though, it sort of sounds like something you order off of Taco Bell’s 99-cent menu).

Anyway, the point was this: the Cubs find new and mind-numbing ways to disappoint. In a Cubs historical sense, a choke is what happened in 2003. Up 3-2 in the NLCS against the Florida Marlins, the Cubs dissolved into a gooey mess at Wrigley beginning with the infamous Game 6 catastrophe. And, of course, they lost Game 7 (they had a 5-3 lead entering the fifth inning). Paul Sullivan, the longtime Cubs beat writer for the Chicago Tribune, has argued that the 1984 NLCS loss to the San Diego Padres (the Cubs were up 2-0 in the series, then lost that last three) is the franchise’s worst playoff memory. Those are chokes in the purer sense of the word because the Cubs were ahead, way ahead, and then gagged it away.

The 2008 playoff Cubs were never ahead. I think they had exactly one brief lead in the entire NLDS against the Dodgers. And compared to what happened in 2003, or 1984, or even in the late stages of the 2004 regular season (stupid me–that’s the year I decided to write a book about the Cubs, only to see them finish third in the division), Ryan Dempster’s seven walks are nothing. But I’ll concede that the four errors in Game 2 were worthy of something that might have happened to the 2003 or 1984 Cubs. And you can make the argument that many of the Cubs didn’t handle the pressure (or Dodgers pitching) very well. But choke? All the regular season did was give them home field advantage for a five-game series. That’s it. Playoff baseball is a different species than regular season ball.

As for next season, I think the Cubs will win lots of regular season games again. But it’s obvious (except to Lou Piniella) that Alfonso Soriano isn’t–and never will be–a leadoff hitter. He has a career .329 on-base percentage, which drops to .263 in the postseason. He has a .213 career postseason batting average. Ernie Banks’ statue could hit better than that. So unless that changes (can you say, Brian Roberts?), Cubs fans are going to spend the 2009 postseason sticking knitting needles in their eyes. It also would help if Carlos Zambrano grew up, Kosuke Fukudome remembered how to hit, and Felix Pie could actually win the centerfield job, and keep it.

Q: You started out as the only national ESPN.com national voice, and over time, it has added the likes of Pat Forde, Scoop Jackson, Tim Keown, and Jemele Hill. What is the process like for deciding who gets to write about what subject? Is seniority at play? Do you come up with your own story ideas? Even as national voices, do you have your own ‘niche,’ such as the Cubs?

I’m fairly certain Scoop and Bill Simmons were already writing for Page 2 on the site. Pat, Tim and Jemele arrived after me. And, of course, Rick Reilly is the latest to get a full scholarship as a National Voice. All I know for sure is that you should never wear a salmon-colored shirt in your column mug shot.

I’m not sure there is a process when it comes to pairing a writer with a specific subject. We each have fairly distinctive writing styles and opinions, which means it’s OK to have overlap. The saga of Barry Bonds, for example deserves, practically demands, more than one voice and opinion. So it depends on the width and depth of the subject matter. But I think we each gravitate to the issues, personalities, teams, leagues, sports, stories that appeal to us on a regular basis. If you asked me to write a column on thoroughbred racing, I’d start mumbling like Chewbacca. But Pat Forde can fall out of bed and write a brilliant piece about the sport.

One of the best things about my job is the freedom to come up with my own column ideas. To me, the idea is as important as the writing. A great idea makes the writing easier. It also adds lots of muscle tone to a column. And I’m lucky–I have a wonderful editor (David Kraft) and lots of patient, smart and funny friends who like knocking around ideas. Today I talked to Reilly, Kraft, Ivan Maisel and my brother Joe (an editor at ESPN.com) about a column idea. Those are nice resources to have at your disposal.

I live in Chicago, so I’ve got to be careful about writing too much about the local teams. A niche? I wish I were ESPN.com Maui beat writer. But, sure, I’ve done a lot on the Cubs. I covered them semi-briefly as the beat writer for the Tribune, and later wrote a couple of Cubs-related books (They sold in the tens. Simmons can’t swing a necktie without hitting someone who bought his Red Sox book.). But I probably made my bones covering college football and basketball. And I’ve got a soft spot for golf.

Q: Assuming you’re writing for ESPN.com two or three times a week, what is the rest of the week like? Filled with ESPNews and ESPN radio appearances? Working on an ESPN the Magazine piece?

Once the column is done, I do what most people do after a hard day’s work: putter around the wine cellar. . . head for the polo grounds. You know, the usual.
The column is all-consuming. You finish one, you start thinking about the next. It’s like living with Jacob Marley and his rattling chains–you can’t ignore it. So the rest of the week is spent trying to come up with worthy column ideas to get through the week.
I do a once-a-week gig on Michele Tafoya’s ESPN radio show, which is probably more fun for me than Michele. My goal in life is to be the On-Star Hotline guest. But the TV and radio appearances are usually dictated by column topics, the buzz those columns create, etc. So it fluctuates. And on rare occasion, I’ll do an Around The Horn, or First Take. Right now, I’m also working on an ESPN The Magazine piece. That’s why I’m answering these questions at, geez, 12:11 a.m.

Q: Newspaper wars can be lively and stir the passions of sports fans – the Tribune vs. the Sun-Times, the NY Daily News vs. the Post, the Boston Globe vs. the Herald, etc. As newspapers continue to trim staffs and online sports outlets such as Fox and Yahoo and ESPN become the first-stop for sports fans, do you feel we’ll lose those battles? Is ESPN so large, what with TV and radio, that there really is no competition? Do you feel there is competition, one where you’re constantly looking at what the opposition is writing? And if so, who do you consider to be the competition? Newspapers? Websites? Blogs?

More than half of my career was spent in the middle of those wonderful wars. The Fort Lauderdale paper vs. the Miami Herald. The Denver Post vs. the Rocky Mountain News. The Dallas Morning News vs. the Dallas Times Herald. The Los Angeles Times vs. everybody. The Chicago Tribune vs. the Sun-Times. It might have been the last golden age of newspapering. It was cut-throat. It was ultra-competitive. It was exhilarating. Remember that scene in “Pulp Fiction,” when John Travolta plunges that needle full of adrenalin into Uma Thurman’s chest? That’s what it was like to be part of those wars.
Those battles still exist. But the newspaper business model has changed, perhaps forever. And with it, you’ll see fewer and fewer newspapers fighting those battles on a national scale.
As for ESPN and competition, I can only speak for myself. The nanosecond you take your reader for granted, is the nanosecond you risk losing that reader. ESPN doesn’t have a monolopy on work ethic. There are a lot of amazing writers and editors with non-ESPN mailing addresses. Newspapers, competing magazines, other websites, blogs–we’re all part of the same universe now. But, at the risk of sounding like I have a performance review coming up, I’m constantly amazed by the quantity and quality of work that goes on at ESPN on a daily basis. I can’t imagine a scenario where ESPN would think it invented the final version of the wheel. Again, this is way above my pay grade, but complacency isn’t one of ESPN’s flaws. There are simply too many dedicated and competitive people at ESPN to let that happen.

Q: You wrote books with Reggie Miller and Rick Majerus while they were still playing and coaching, respectively. How do you feel about sports writers penning a book on a player or coach, and then writing columns about them in immediate future? Is there an unwritten rule about such behavior? Should there be?

Interesting question. I know one sportswriter–a very good one–who says once you write a book on someone, you can’t ever write about them for your publication or website. I don’t think it’s a one-size-fits-all issue.
I remember interviewing Reggie for a Magazine story. At the time–it was during the NBA playoffs–Reggie wasn’t doing any one-on-one interviews. But because he knew and trusted me, he agreed to an interview. Reggie was unbelievably candid, partly because of that trust, and partly because I had insights into his personal and professional life that helped me ask informed questions. The story never ran because the Pacers were eliminated before the Finals, but I never felt our partnership on the book compromised my ability to write a story, critical if need be, on Reggie. Our relationship had always been on a professional level, so, to me, there was never a question of it remaining that way when I interviewed him for the Magazine.
Majerus and me became friends, which is a different dynamic. There were a handful of times when I was asked to do stories or columns on Rick, but I begged off because of that friendship. In one case, it cost me what would have been a great column. However, I did talk to Rick for a column when Al McGuire died. In that case, it was impossible to write about McGuire without talking to the man who coached with him, briefly played for him, and was there in the weeks leading to Al’s death. And Rick has been a longtime source for context and perspective when it comes to college basketball. If that bothers someone, I can live with the disapproval.

Q: Come on, we know you’ve got a good athlete-journalist altercation that worth re-telling. You weren’ t in the locker room the time Ryan Leaf screamed at that reporter, were you?

Reggie Jackson, while taking BP when he was with the Angels, once yelled at me so loud and for long that the Boston Red Sox actually came out of their clubhouse to watch. The night before, Jackson had misplayed a line drive to right field so badly that I wrote in the LA Times–and it was line that Reggie had used in the past–that the only way he’d win a Gold Glove is if he spray-painted it himself. I knew he’d be pissed, but if you write it, you’ve got to show up the next day to take the heat. So I walked out to the batting cage, made sure Reggie saw me and, as Evander Holyfield once said in an ESPN ad, take my whuppin’ like a man. I mean, if you’re a local beat writer or columnist, you owe it to the player to let him vent. After all, writers rip players for stiffing the media. If that’s the case, then you can’t stiff a player by hiding behind your by-line.
Anyway, Reggie would crank a home run and then yell at me. Home run. Yell at me. This went on for 5, 10 minutes. Fans were actually running down toward the field to hear the tirade.
Finally, Angels manager Gene Mauch walked slowly over to the batting cage, leaned on the railing, but said nothing. Reggie saw Mauch and quit yelling. Then Reggie went out to shag fly balls and Mauch returned to the dugout.
I walked over to Mauch and said, “You didn’t have to do that, you know.”
Mauch, as old-school as they came, said something like, “There’s one on every team. He’s ours.”

Q: As a Tennessee graduate, care to weigh in on the Phil Fulmer situation? What the heck has happened to the program? We skimmed through your archive, and it seems like you have recused yourself from writing about the Vols, or perhaps the opportunity hasn’t really presented itself. How, as a columnist do you handle that?

I’ve done Tennessee-related stories and columns. I don’t have any problem separating my story assignment with the diploma hanging on my office wall. I earned a journalism degree from UT, but I’m not on retainer. So you write what you see. Anything less and you cheat the reader, as well as damage your credibility.
As for Fulmer, Tennessee fans should be careful what they wish for. There are certain facts that UT fans prefer to ignore. First of all, the state only produces so many great players. In years past, UT could go to New Jersey, Ohio, Florida, Alabama, Texas, Georgia, even California, to sign elite players. But those borders have grown tighter or closed altogether as those state schools have done a much better job of keeping their best players in-state. Fulmer is a very good recruiter, but there are limitations to his reach. And second, the SEC is the frickin’ hardest conference on earth.
I’m afraid that Fulmer is going to have a difficult time surviving this season. That’s the reality of the business. But look at his career record. Now give me the name of someone who can do better than Fulmer has done.

Q: What was the greatest sporting event you have ever attended? This could be in your youth, as a fan, or as a sportswriter. What made it so special?

Duke-Kentucky. March 28, 1992. Christian Laettner’s shot at the buzzer. My goose bumps had goose bumps.
I was working for the LA Times, so my deadline wasn’t as tight. Instead of going to the Duke locker room, I went to the Kentucky locker room. I’ll never forget John Pelphrey standing near the shower, pounding the cinder block walls with his fists, sort of moaning, “No, no, no. . . ” Incredible game. Incredible emotion. All of it pure.

Honorable mention: When ESPN The Mag paid my $15,000 entry fee for Michael Jordan’s Senior Flight School in Las Vegas. I remain one of the few humans to play on a team with Michael, and lose!

QUICK HITTERS:
Q: Favorite fast-food spot? In And Out Burger. (Steak N Shake, honorable mention). I’m working hard toward an angioplasty.

Q: What is the best thing about working for ESPN? The baskets of fine meats and cheeses we get each Arbor Day. Actually, I love the energy of the place. The quality of work is contagious.

Q: What’s the worst thing about working for ESPN? I once got food poisoning after eating a salad at the Bristol campus cafeteria. And I don’t even want to think about the hours of my life I’ve wasted while trying to complete an ESPN on-line expense report.

Q: Your fantasy football team’s name? The Fightin’ Oskies. Named after my dog, Oskie.

Q: What non-ESPN writers do you read? You don’t have that much room, plus I’ll leave someone out. Seriously, there are at least 50 sportswriters whose work I admire for all sorts of different reasons. But if you’re a writer, you know when another writer nailed it. You can tell by the depth of the reporting, by the way they structure a sentence, a paragraph, by the words they use and how they use them. You can tell by their ideas. And nothing is more impressive than a memorable gamer or column written on deadline.
Now, if you’re asking me which non-sportswriters I love to read, that’s easy: P.J. O’Rourke, Richard Ben Cramer, and David Halberstam. And, OK, all-time favorite sportswriter: Jim Murray.

Best place in Chicago to get a slice?
Jack Straw’s, Wheaton, Il. Thin slice.