THE CHEAP SEATS with STEVE CAMERON: If you're going to be 'fearless,' at least be fair

I grew up reading the San Francisco Chronicle. 

Even when I was in grade school, my dad and I shared “The Chron” at our kitchen table. 

I absolutely loved it, our ritual of the morning paper with a pot of tea. 

Dad took the sports section first. 

The features section wasn’t a bad place to start, at least, not in the Chronicle. 

I remember the only time we both took issue with the paper, to the point that Dad wrote his one and only letter to an editor. 

The problem was a gifted columnist named Charles McCabe, whose daily efforts were titled: “The Fearless Spectator.” 

McCabe was a cynical Irishman whose view of the world was a blur through the window of a local tavern. 

He was fine writing feature stuff, making fun of the world, but somebody upstairs at the paper decided it would be a hoot to have “The Fearless Spectator” appear in the sports section. 

We disliked him immediately, not only because he had no idea what he was writing about, but because he made it clear he didn’t care. 

Sports, he preached, were boring. 

IT WAS one thing to be ignorant of a topic. 

Readers can simply ignore a particular writer, or even an entire section of the paper. 

Good enough. 

But McCabe made it personal. 

For whatever reason, he wrote over and over that the San Francisco Giants needed to dump Willie McCovey. 

I’ll save you a trip to Google, and tell you that Big Mac came to the big leagues in 1959 with all guns blazing. 

He played just 52 games, but hit .354 and was named Rookie of the Year. 

The following season (and again, to a lesser degree in 1961), Willie got off to a slow start and, with his long, vicious swing, he was tough for him to shake a slump. 

It was somewhere in this period that Charles McCabe began hammering McCovey, and it drove my dad crazy. 

I wasn’t old enough at the start to recognize a legit criticism from a vile waste of words — but once McCabe became “The Man Who Hates the Giants,” I got it. 

Quick side note: To this day, after decades as a columnist, I STILL try to keep things fair.  

It’s OK to say that Jorge Polanco’s batting average almost disappeared into the mist last year, but you can’t go snide and accuse Polanco of stealing money from the club. 

Meanwhile, McCabe continued his snotty assault on the Giants (which I assume was popular with a lot of readers), and on McCovey in particular. 

Years passed. 

Sadly, McCabe didn’t live long enough to watch McCovey’s induction into the Hall of Fame. 

I’ve never forgotten “The Fearless Spectator,” and I’ve taken two lessons from it. 

First, unless you know something for a FACT, stay away from making things personal. 

That one covers a huge chunk of ground, and I believe the best way to judge what you’re about to put into print is some common sense. 

If you’re being lighthearted or making a comical reference, is it clear you’re joking? 

Whatever you write, would a neutral reader think it’s fair?

I’ve always wondered what McCovey thought of McCabe’s columns. 

ANOTHER lesson from Charles McCabe is very appropriate this week, with the opening of baseball season. 

Every journalist and his/her dog make predictions on how the year is going to turn out. 

The dog is generally better at it. 

I’ve done it, too, plenty of times. 

I usually make it clear, though, that I’ve been wrong for umpteen years in a row. 

Or that I’ve more success picking cricket results, and can’t even explain the damn rules of the game. 

Media folk watching a team day-in and day-out almost certainly think they know more than that guy guzzling Mountain Dew on his couch. 

Generally, that’s true. 

And if we stopped there, instead of trying to explain the origin of the infield fly rule, we’d be WAY ahead of the game. 

When we think we have to sound smart, however, we tend to run head-first into the center field wall. 

Having said all that, I’m obligated to tell you that the Mariners are going to win the AL West. 

So, how am I SURE they’ll be division champs? 

Sorry. 

If I told you, I’d have to kill you. 

Email: scameron@cdapress.com 

Steve Cameron’s “Cheap Seats” columns appear in The Press three times each week, normally Tuesday, Wednesday, and Friday unless, you know, stuff happens. 

Steve suggests you take his opinions in the spirit of a Jimmy Buffett song: “Breathe In, Breathe Out, Move On.”