by Spencer Aber

I. Introduction: The Basketball Scare
January 22, 2015

The Mooresville boy’s freshman basketball team arrived at Southport for their 6 p.m. game. Parrish Fehrman, 14, put the Pioneers road uniform on and taped his raw fingertips together. He didn’t know why they were raw. All Parrish knew was that he couldn’t use the TouchID on his iPhone.

Parrish’s chest was pounding like a drum. He didn’t know what was wrong. He attempted to go from half court to the baseline for a layup. The pain worsened. Parrish tried another layup.

It wouldn’t stop.

Parrish saw his mother, Stephanie, walking through Southport gym and stepped out of the layup line to see her.

“You need to take me to the hospital,” Parrish said.

“Why,” his mother answered.

“I think I’m having a heart attack,” he told her.

II. Pre-Diagnosis
March 4, 2016

The pain wouldn’t leave, not during the game and not during the drive home. Riding shotgun in his mother’s Mini Cooper. Parrish tried putting himself in the fetal position. He tried taking deep breaths. He tried putting his feet up on the dashboard. Nothing worked.

“It was one of the worst experiences of my life,” Parrish said. “I didn’t know what was happening.”

The pain worsened.

“Something is wrong, something is really wrong,” he kept telling her.

What Parrish didn’t know: His life was about to change forever.

The first stop? The pediatrician. They were told nothing was wrong. They returned a week later. Same thing. Nothing to dwell on.

His pediatrician decided to test his blood just to make sure. The next day Stephanie got a call.

“I am so sorry, but you need to get him to a hospital right now,” they told her.

Parrish’s school day was interrupted. A note arrived during the middle of his class; his mom was on her way to pick him up. Parrish got in the car and sensed something immediately wrong. His mom was panicking. Parrish kept asking questions about what was wrong, but all his mother knew was that she needed to get him to Riley Children’s Hospital immediately.

That began weeks of blood testing. Parrish was tested for Hepatitis A, B and C. Negative. He was tested for Lou Gehrig’s disease. Negative. He was tested for cancer. Negative. He was tested for AIDS. Negative.

“Was that really in the running?” Stephanie thought.

The doctors didn’t know what Parrish had, but his mother was determined to find out. After the trip to Riley, the doctors finally suggested they go see a dermatologist, even though they didn’t think it would help. Parrish’s dad agreed, but Parrish had his doubts.

“What is it going to hurt?” he asked his mother.

Two days later, Parrish and his mother went to the dermatologist. They sat in the waiting room. Parrish’s name was called. He took a seat and waited patiently for his doctor. The dermatologist came in with her assistant and looked at Parrish’s hands. They exchanged an eye widening look that shook everyone in the room.

“We need to do a biopsy right away,” the dermatologist said.

When those words were said, Stephanie broke down in tears.

“If you start crying, then I start crying and then everyone starts crying,” Parrish said to his tearful mother. “That’s not what we need right now.”

Four days after that, Stephanie got a phone call from the dermatologist.

“Stephanie, Parrish is very ill,” she remembers hearing. “I can’t confirm the diagnosis, but I can tell you he’s very ill.”

III. The Diagnosis
March 12, 2015

The dermatologists booked Parrish an appointment at Riley Children’s Hospital. Parrish and his mother arrived at the hospital on Thursday and three physicians and two residents immediately sent him to cardiology. The doctors had cleared their schedules.

“When you have cardiologists, who have cleared their calendar to see you, I knew this wasn’t good,” Stephanie said.

When they finished with the cardiologists, they came back up and the doctors said pulmonology was waiting for Parrish too. Stephanie asked the doctors “Can you tell me what’s going on?”

“We need to know if he needs to be admitted,” the doctors responded. “We have to run these tests.”

Finally, after five hours at the hospital, he got his diagnosis: Juvenile dermatomyositis. A disease that causes weak muscles, skin rash, fatigue and a fever. Only two to four children in a million in the United States are diagnosed with JM per year.

“It was awful news,” Parrish said. “As bad as it was, it almost was the relief that made it more bearable.”

“It’s scary, but there was also relief to it that we knew we could put a name to it,” Stephanie said.

The doctors advised the Fehrman’s to not research the disease, but they did it anyways.

“I hated all of it,” Parrish’s big sister, Taylor, said after reading about the disease online.

After two months though of being left in the dark, Parrish could start fighting his disease. However, there was one problem: There’s still no cure.

“Will he recover?” Stephanie asked the doctors.

“Never fully,” they responded.

IV: Treatment

There were days Parrish couldn’t get up from the couch without help. His muscles were too weak. His mother would have to pull him up to get him standing. She felt so bad for him that she stopped running her usual five miles a day.

“It felt unfair for me at 40-plus years old to be able to run five miles a day and he couldn’t walk up the stairs,” Stephanie said.

Parrish never fully grasped the news of his diagnosis until he began taking his medication. He was prescribed four different medications: Prednisone, Folic Acid, Methotrexate and IVIG.

“It made me sick to my stomach,” Parrish said. “It really sucked.”

Parrish took 50mg of Prednisone twice a day: three pills in the morning and three at night. It was a steroid that would help get Parrish’s weight up because he was the skinniest, he’d ever been in his life: 6-foot-3 and 150 lbs.

“You could see every bone on my body,” Parrish said.

Parrish’s grandfather, aunts and uncles helped with the food part. His grandfather brought him pecan pie every three days, while his aunts and uncles dropped off candy, cookies and brownies.

Parrish’s friend, Benny Gains, assisted at night when he couldn’t sleep, making phone calls to Parrish almost every night.

“We would call each at nine o’clock at night and just talk until like 1 or 2AM just about anything,” Benny said.

As for the Methotrexate, it was a self-injected shot that Parrish gave himself once a week that caused nausea.

“Every morning after I’d do it, I’d just be in the bathroom because I would think I’d throw up,” Parrish said.

It got to the point where Parrish couldn’t administer the injection to himself. He arranged for his mother to give him the shot in the middle of the night, so he’d sleep off the nausea.

“You’ll do anything to help someone you care about,” Stephanie said.

For his IVIG, Parrish went to an infusion center every other week. Each treatment was $65,000. Thank goodness he had insurance.

At first, Parrish had allergic reactions to the yellow liquid. It caused him to wheeze and his throat closed. The doctors gave him allergy medicine to prevent that and the whole infusion would take anywhere from 8-12 hours.

He mainly slept throughout that time, but also did homework, had family and friends come visit, ordered pizza and played his XBOX and PlayStation.

Parrish’s life at school changed drastically, too. Not only did he fall behind because of treatment days, but no one really knew about his disease. Parrish only told two friends at school.

That led to people bullying Parrish about his disease. Dane Smith, a good friend of Parrish’s now tried to touch his food, which was not supposed to be touched by anyone or else it would be compromised. Benny specifically was the one Parrish designated as the protector of his food.

“It was an honor,” Benny said. “It meant the world to me.”

In the summertime, Parrish’s family wanted to travel, but they were limited in their options. The doctors wouldn’t let them leave the United States. The Fehrman’s were required to be within 30 miles of a Level 1 Trauma Center in case anything was wrong with Parrish. They took small trips to Door County, Wisconsin and weekend trips to Chicago. Parrish had to wear Sun Baum sunscreen anytime he was in the sun. He couldn’t get a sunburn or else he’d flare. He even wore Coola bar clothing, which had SPF 55 ingrained in them.

After a year of treatment, Parrish’s body started getting stronger. His weight was up, and his muscle mass was increasing. It was time to get back on the basketball court.

According to his mother, the doctors should’ve never cleared Parrish to play basketball. His muscles were too weak. Stephanie knew basketball was a bad idea for her son.

Bad was an understatement.

V: The Setback
March 13, 2016

Parrish was playing his second AAU game at Best Choice Fieldhouse in Fishers, Indiana. Four minutes left in the game and the other team had a fast break going the other way. Parrish sprinted back, hoping to make a defensive stand. The ball handler went up for a layup and Parrish came flying through the air to make a ridiculous chase down block. The crowd started going nuts as Parrish’s team got the ball and went on offense.

But where was Parrish? He was on the deck. People started screaming and running away. The referee sprinted off to call 911.

Another mother had her eyes covered, while her 7-year-old boy was pale, and blood was draining from his face.

“It was surreal,” Stephanie said, recalling the horrific event.

A nurse came running to Parrish’s side along with his parents. He began to go into shock. Stephanie did heavy breathing with him to calm him down. His dad held his leg up.

Parrish’s foot was completely turned backwards.

“It was terrifying,” Taylor remembered from being sent the images.

“I wasn’t sure he’d be able to walk again,” Stephanie said.

An ambulance came to take Parrish to Riley Children’s Hospital before he was transferred to Methodist Hospital. He had surgery three days later.

“This is for many players even in the NBA, this would be a career-ending injury,” Parrish remembered the doctor saying.

VI: The Comeback

Parrish was in a wheelchair for three months and then had to learn to walk again. He was on a scooter, a boot, then crutches, followed by a cane. The doctors told Parrish he wouldn’t be able to walk again until the end of December.

Parrish defied the odds and was running by Thanksgiving. After Parrish started running, he went back to the doctor in January hoping he could be cleared to play basketball again. His doctor recommended for him to never play basketball again, though.

But Parrish kept asking “Can you clear me?” The doctor answered, “I can clear you for activities, but I don’t think you should ever play basketball again.” “But can I?” Parrish asked.

The doctor cleared him, but he’d have to tape his ankle and wear a brace to play. If he broke his ankle again, it’d have to be fused.

Parrish and his mother walked out of the doctor’s office and she immediately made Parrish repeat everything the doctor said about the risks and he did. As much as she didn’t want Parrish to play basketball, she trusted his judgement.

While Parrish was able to return to the court by his junior year of high school in 2017, the JM was still present in his body. By that point, Parrish thought his progress was plateauing and a change needed to be made.

The doctors wanted Parrish to try an experimental drug, but his mother thought it was too dangerous. She suggested to the doctors about changing his diet, but they said it wouldn’t matter. Stephanie went to the dietician anyway and they decided to put Parrish on a purist diet.

He cut out sugar, dairy, wheat, grains and processed foods. All he ate was fruit, meats and vegetables for the next year. His go-to meals were fruit salad, strawberries and blackberries.

Parrish took himself off the diet right before his high school graduation in 2018, but immediately went back on after his blood labs started dropping. On June 20, 2019, Parrish took himself off his last medication called Plaquenil because it was such a low dose and his blood labs were normal.

“That for me was remission,” Parrish said.

Parrish called his mother that day. She cried. He called his sister. She cried. He told his dad in-person and he hugged him. Parrish’s brother, Garrett, called him and congratulated him. Benny called him and was thrilled for his best friend.

“An enormous weight was lifted off my shoulders,” Parrish said.

That same night the Fehrman’s had a big family dinner. There was steak, potatoes, asparagus, salad and pecan pie for dessert.

Parrish got the confirmation from the doctors on October 13, 2019. From the day of Parrish’s diagnosis, it took four and a half years for him to go into remission.

Since the time of his diagnosis, Parrish and his family have been very involved with the Cure JM Foundation. Parrish is in the kids Facebook group, while his mom is in the parents’ group. The Fehrman’s go to Cure JM conferences every year and Parrish has been a keynote speaker for three years.

Two years after the diagnosis, Garrett suggested that the family get tattoos. They’re all different. Parrish has a big lion on his back. Taylor has one on her wrist. Stephanie has a heartbeat on her wrist and Garrett has one on his chest.

They all read the same thing: Cure JM.

By Jake Toppen

What began as a typical Tuesday swung in an instant.

I woke up the morning of Feb. 18, switched my phone off silent mode and set it on the sink before hopping in the shower. I had a radio show in a few hours, so I started racing through topics in my mind.

What does the NBA playoff race look like? Will Indiana make the NCAA tournament?

I hadn’t been in the shower five minutes when my phone started buzzing. One text. Another. Another. Another.

They wouldn’t stop.

I hopped out and grabbed my phone. There were 45 text messages to read.

It started with this one: “Mason.”

Then this one: “Check Twitter.”

I didn’t need to read the rest. I knew.

I was just talking to him a few days ago … there’s no way.

But I had to look. I opened Twitter. The first post I saw gave me the answer I didn’t want.

The few seconds that followed paralyzed me with emotion.

“Rest in peace, Mason Thomas Kendall,” it read.

He was just 22 years old.

***

It’s been three months since Mason Kendall passed away from a rare auto-immune attack on his central nervous system.

He was a close friend of mine for 15 years. I still cry sometimes. I still have nightmares about it.

Mason wouldn’t be too happy with me if he knew that, though. He’d probably laugh. Or say something to make me smile.

Quit being a little baby!

He played multiple sports growing up in South Bend —baseball, football, soccer, basketball. By high school, he was a cross-country runner in the fall, a baseball player in the spring.

During his freshman year at South Bend Riley High School, he met Madie Logsdon, another incoming freshman who ran for the women’s cross-country team.

“I felt like he didn’t want to run cross-country,” she remembers. “I barely knew him at the time, but I knew he could be good.”

The two started direct messaging each other on Facebook during their freshman year. The topic, of all things: cookies.

A bond formed, a bond that would last for over eight years. They ended up dating for six. And they weren’t just boyfriend and girlfriend. They became best friends.

It started with those cookies. It’s how Madie convinced Mason to stick with cross-country.

“We put so much salt in those cookies … they were so bad,” Logsdon remembers.

But that was enough. He gave the sport a shot. And pretty soon, he was hooked.

“Once he got to know his teammates he loved running for the cross-country team,” Logsdon said.

After developing his freshman and sophomore years, Mason broke out as a junior, becoming one of the top runners on the team.

I remember one specific Saturday morning in October of 2014. The team was at Ox Bow Park, preparing to race at the Northern Indiana Conference meet. It was 40 degrees outside, and the wind was howling. The grass still had its morning dew. Everyone was in hats and gloves.

I wondered: Why were all these guys so excited to run?

“Bro, it’s not cold,” Mason blurted out with a straight face.

“Really?” I replied.

“Nah it’s cold as dirt,” Mason said with a little grin.

He pulled his hands away from the handwarmers in his pockets, punched me on the shoulder and walked away chuckling.

I couldn’t see his eyes, because whenever Mason laughed, they disappeared. His smile was so big it reached from ear-to-ear, and his laugh was contagious. I can still see it. Can still hear it.

I miss it.

The cold weather never stopped Mason from running. Nothing did.

“His junior season was magical for so many reasons,” his former head coach, Chad Wetzel, recalls.

He took third overall on that chilly October morning, then finished third again in the sectional meet a few weeks later, helping Riley win the South Bend city, conference and sectional championships. Then came the semi-state meet, where only the top six teams would advance to the state finals.

Outside expectations? They were minimal. Riley had lost five of their top seven runners from the year before, and few expected the team to compete for a state finals berth.

Mason Kendall had other plans.

He ended up placing 20th out of 180 runners in a time of 16:35 that day.

Even better, Riley finished sixth. They were headed to state.

“Easily the most emotional moment I ever had with Mason,” Kulczar remembers.

It’s what they’d been working toward for three years.

The team ended up finishing 21st the following week.

The following summer Mason was elected team captain. And with that role came the spirit stick — which every captain eventually passes down once they graduate.

Unfortunately, Mason dealt with leg injuries for most of his senior year, but he fought through to remain the top performer for the Wildcats.

He finished second at the city meet, fifth at the sectional meet, ninth at the regional meet and 34th at semi-state.

After he graduated in June of 2016, it was his turn to pass down the spirit stick. He made the trip to the team’s annual camping retreat the August before heading off to college at the University of Indianapolis.

He presented the spirit stick to the new captains that year, and when he did, speaking in front of the entire team, his emotions got the best of him. Mason fought back tears.

“He talked about how much the program meant to him,” his coach remembers.

In the coming years, Riley cross-country plans to rename their Most Improved Person or Most Valuable Person awards. They want one of them to honor Mason Kendall.

“It wasn’t about the impact our program had on Mason,” said Wetzel. “It was the impact Mason had on our program.”

***

Most of the time I was with Mason we were hooping in different locations. He ran cross-country and played baseball for Riley, but the sport he really loved playing with his friends was basketball.

From backyards to driveways, from schools to churches, from barns to parking lots, it didn’t matter — as long as it had a rim, we were playing. A favorite spot was our friend Jeremiah’s barn, which sat at the end of a snaking driveway in the middle of the woods.

Typical Indiana: playing basketball in a barn.

In high school, a group of eight or 10 of us would meet up and play whenever our schedules allowed. We would move all the cars parked in the barn to the west end. There were no lines on the court, so we adapted: we used creases and cracks in the concrete for our 3-point line. It wasn’t perfect. We didn’t care.

One rim and one basketball was all we needed to make a lifetime of memories.

It was 30 degrees the day after Thanksgiving his junior year, but we wanted to play. So we headed to the barn. We moved the cars to the west end. We swept the floor. We flipped on the space heater. We played.

We always talked smack, and sometimes it got heated. We lived for the competition.

Whenever he blocked a shot he would yell some choice words and get in my face.

You can’t score on me! Don’t come in the paint! Your shot is terrible!

Most of the time he would show off his smile and give a little chuckle after yelling at me.

After three hours of playing the day after Thanksgiving we called it a night. I remember as I walked out to my car, I heard someone sneaking up behind me. I looked over my shoulder. It was Mason.

He slapped me on the back of the neck and continued to run up the hill to his car.

Good games tonight bro. It’s all love. See you at school on Monday!

I wish I could still talk a little smack. I wish I could have one more time at the barn with him.

***

It’s been three months since his passing. There have been good days and bad.

The morning of Feb. 18th will always live with me. I’ll never forget where I was and how I felt, paralyzed with emotion from head to toe.

I play back conversations in my head. What would Mason say to me today?

Don’t let one bad day ruin the last 15 years of memories we made together.

It’s easier to remember all the good times we had. I’m trying to be tough like he was.

I’ll hold on to those memories — until we make some more.

Whenever it’s a sunny day, I’ll sit on my back porch, like we used to do in the summer of 2018. Most of the time, we’d talk about the NBA. We’d argue over stupid stuff. Jordan or Lebron? Both of us loved talking about who was better. He sided with LeBron. I sided with Jordan.

Or the Gators. We both loved the Florida Gators despite growing up in Notre Dame country.

But my favorite topic: life. He’d always ask me how school was, how my family was doing, and when I was free to hoop.

Those conversations were the best, the ones I’ll carry with me forever.

I’ll never forget watching him run on a cold Saturday morning, throw pitches from the mound in late April, or the way he’d talk smack after blocking a shot during a pickup game at the barn.

I can still see that, still feel that.

I know that’s what Mason’s doing. That’s what makes me smile.

Joe Buck speaks to students through webcam in Franklin Hall Lobby.

In the midst of a hectic week leading up to Super Bowl 54, play-by-play broadcaster Joe
Buck, LHD’16, took a break from his schedule to speak to Media School students live from Miami.

He appeared via webcast on the Franklin Hall commons screen two days before his sixth Super Bowl game to talk to students about how he prepares.

Buck, Fox’s head football, baseball and golf play-by-play broadcaster, attended IU in the late ‘80s and
early ‘90s before leaving to begin his broadcasting career with the St. Louis Cardinals.

There is a slim margin of error for major games like the Super Bowl, so communication is key. He has an important relationship with Troy Aikman, who has been Buck’s color commentator on every Super Bowl Buck has called. After years of sitting next to each other, Buck said they know when to flow off one another.

Buck showed students the broadcast game sheet he uses to prepare to call a game. He fills out information about each team and player in advance and then refers back to it during the broadcast. His preparation methods vary by sport though — for example, in baseball, startup lineups are announced on a day-to-day basis, so Buck has to wait until he gets to the studio to create his pre-game sheet. It’s a “race against the clock,” he said.

Buck said he embraces the pressure of calling a big game and that he ignores his critics on social media, focusing on his supporters instead. He’s been part of some of the biggest sports moments of the 21st Century, including the 2004 Boston Red Sox World Series and the 2016 Chicago Cubs victory.

He has to think carefully about what to say during potentially historic moments. Sometimes, he said it’s best to not speak and allow the stadium energy to take over.

Buck’s father, Jack Buck, was the play-by-play broadcaster for Super Bowl 4 — which the Kansas City Chiefs also won — 50 years ago. They’re the only father-son duo to both call the Super Bowl.

Senior Michael Tilka gives instructions to “We Need to Talk” hosts (left to right) Sarah Kustok, Tina Cervasio, Lisa Leslie and Summer Sanders. (Aino Rahkonen | The Media School)

“Standby!” Michael Tilka shouts to the 30+ audience members in the Beckley Studio.

His fingers count down: five, four, three, two, one. He points at the talent and moves behind the camera, and the show begins.

It’s a familiar scene for Tilka, who has floor-managed plenty of productions in the Beckley Studio before. But Friday’s show was different from the student productions he routinely works on — it was a live-to-tape broadcast of a nationally televised show featuring celebrity talent.

IU hosted “We Need to Talk,” a monthly CBS Sports talk show featuring 12 rotating female hosts, Friday, as the first stop on its university tour. Just like any television production, each taping requires a team behind the scenes. Media School students filled those roles.

“I think this opportunity is so crucial for students,” said Tilka, a senior studying sports media. “There’s only so much you can learn in a classroom, but this experience helps you prepare to take on the real world.”

Team members from The Media School, CBS and IU Radio-Television Services work in the control room during the taping. (James Brosher | IU Studios)

The episode, which aired that evening, was hosted by Emmy-winning reporter and analyst Tina Cervasio, WNBA All-Star Lisa Leslie, four-time Olympic swimming gold medalist and sports correspondent Summer Sanders, and the first-ever solo female NBA analyst, Sarah Kustok. They were joined by NFL Hall of Fame journalist Lesley Visser.

Student volunteers, like Tilka, volunteered on the production crew. Their roles included floor managing, running teleprompter, working with the operations department and controlling the studio cameras.

“We’ve got professionals coming in from CBS, and they’re bringing the studio environment into the learning environment,” said Mike Gray, technical broadcast facilities manager at IU. “By working inside the control room, students are able to see the flow of an actual television show.”

The live taping served as a “campus takeover,” said “We Need to Talk” producer Amy Salmanson. The episode included studio interviews with Olympic gold medalist swimmer Lilly King, BS’19, and football coach Tom Allen, as well as a pre-recorded interview with Dallas Mavericks owner Mark Cuban, BS’81.

The taping was just one of a full day of CBS-hosted activities, including mentorship sessions; storytelling lectures featuring Visser, “Hoosiers” creator Angelo Pizzo, BA’71, and marketing executives Paige Westin and Kim Barrett of Facebook and MKTG, respectively; and a “Joy of Cooking” demonstration.

Lead CBS sports director Suzanne Smith talks to students about her career during a mentorship session Friday morning. “I have a passion for sports,” the six-time Emmy Award winner told them. (Alex Deryn | The Media School)

The goal of the university tour, Salmanson said, is to give college students an opportunity to network within the world of media and see what careers are suitable for them.

“When you go to apply for an internship or a job, you need to show that you have experience,” Salmanson said. “It’s important to (CBS) to continue to educate students and young people who are interested in getting into media about all of the different paths that they can take.”

Any experience is good experience for a future job. Just ask senior Dustin Curl, who worked as a utility member for the show.

“This opportunity lets students try out every position, whether that’s camera, video replay or teleprompter,” said Curl, who is studying sports media. “IU gives you so much experience and offers so many opportunities for professional work with professionals.”

NFL Hall of Fame journalist Lesley Visser interviews filmmaker Angelo Pizzo, creator of “Hoosiers” and “Rudy.” (James Brosher | IU Studios)

Angelo Pizzo had a dilemma.

The film “Hoosiers,” which he wrote and produced, was up for two Academy Awards in 1987. But the IU men’s basketball team was playing in the national championship game, and it was the same night as the Oscars.

The Hoosiers won out, and Pizzo stayed home to watch the game on TV.

Pizzo, BA’71, shared this story with NFL Hall of Fame journalist Lesley Visser and an audience in Presidents Hall on Friday during the “Storytelling and Marketing: Using the Power of Sports to Capture Attention” session of CBS Sports’ “We Need to Talk” university tour. The daylong event also included a live taping of the sports talk show “We Need to Talk” in the Beckley Studio, mentorship sessions and a “Joy of Cooking” demonstration.

Visser and Pizzo discussed the process behind the creation of “Hoosiers.” Pizzo said the key was its authenticity.

“Indiana was a character, which is why we had to call it ‘Hoosiers,’” he said

Facebook Sports Broadcast Partnerships strategic partner manager Paige Westin and MKTG vice president of corporate development Kim Barrett introduced the audience to careers in sports marketing and gave advice on how to succeed in the industry.

Westin said it’s her job to ensure Facebook users are consuming sports content from its partners.

She’s transitioned several times throughout her media career. She originally wanted to be on camera and then started working in production. Finally, she began to focus on digital media strategies. Each of these experiences has helped her succeed at Facebook, she said.

“I think the biggest takeaway is that our platform and industry are always changing,” she said.

Barrett also focuses on partnerships. She showed examples of marketing campaigns she worked on with the Heisman House and Gatorade.

She said her job combines live experiences and sports consulting.

“Before you know it, digital, social and experiential all work together,” she said.

Both women had advice for students hoping to one day work in sports media. They emphasized the importance of adaptability and open-mindedness.

“Be flexible,” Westin said. “You never know what life will throw at you.”

(Left to right) Facebook Sports Broadcast Partnerships strategic partner manager Paige Westin, IU chief marketing officer Karen Ferguson Fuson and MKTG vice president of corporate development Kim Barrett listen to an audience question. (James Brosher | IU Studios)

The American Volleyball Coaches Association recognized Morgan Gard, MS’19, as the top College Student Reporter for 2018-19 for her work on “Ambition: The New IU,” a documentary covering the volleyball team’s rebuilding process under new head coach Steve Aird — produced by Media School students.

As the project’s videographer, Gard undertook the responsibility of filming the team’s home and away games.

“The goal of the series was to tell stories and document reality, rather than force feed or manufacture a narrative,” said Jeremy Rosenthal, Cert’10, assistant director of media relations for IU Athletics. “People saw the ups and down throughout the season and how the team responded in moments of adversity. Morgan is very talented and is a very dedicated student.”

Watch the documentary at IUHoosiers.com.

Call them defending champions.

In back-to-back years, IU Media School graduate Adam Cohen and his NFL on CBS production team won their 2nd consecutive Sports Emmy for Outstanding Playoff Coverage.

Their broadcast of the 2018 and 2019 AFC Championships beat out a field of iconic sporting events including the World Cup, both NCAA men’s and women’s basketball tournaments, the NCAA College Football Playoff, and even the league’s marquee event, the Super Bowl.

Cohen, an associate producer, was just one key player in a crew of 30 professionals working for a common goal, like a true championship team. Their coverage of New England’s 37-31 overtime thriller victory against Kansas City on January 20 stood out as exemplary, and worthy of one of the profession’s highest honors.

“The most challenging part is being able to detach myself from the enormity of the game and emotions of the game when it’s happening,” Cohen said. “I’m well aware of the watch parties everywhere and amount of people watching, which is always impossible to conceptualize. Come January, everyone is watching the NFL Playoffs. And I know that I was always one of those people. I have to rely on my instincts and my preparation as the game is happening and treat it like any other game, as cliche as that is.”

Cliche or not, Cohen’s broadcast team subscribes to this mentality for the entire season.

The NFL’s 17-week regular season is already a marathon stretch for any production crew. The playoffs and Super Bowl add another five daunting weeks to the task.

And yet, Cohen and his team performed at the highest level when the situation demanded more.

“We learn how we can improve and we keep trying to put on the best production possible, and it allows us to be in our best form for the biggest games at the end of the year,” Cohen said. We’ve come through when it’s mattered most and produced high-quality, informative, and clean broadcasts.”

Cohen, who graduated from Indiana University in 2015, contributes visually to the Emmy-winning squad. He works to present the game’s most relevant statistics and storylines graphically, then execute them in real-time.

And yet, the game rolls on.

It’s a responsibility that somehow combines both careful attention and a wild imagination ⁠— something that can only be mastered with practice.

“Without a doubt in my mind, IU helped get me here because the experience I gained there was nothing short of tremendous,” Cohen said. “I can’t wait to see all that the Media School can become because I know what the opportunities there can lead to.”

Like many graduates, Cohen said he was initially terrified of his job prospects after college.

Now, he has two Emmy Awards in four years of work with one of the world’s leading media outlets ⁠— the byproduct of diligent work.

“When I was at Indiana University, I was covering many sports in the student media space. Most of the time, it was covering athletes and teams who I would have little knowledge of unless I prepared and did the research ahead of time. I knew it was the only way I could have done it well, and I was always trying to prove myself in college.

“That’s the attitude I still have today. I’m always trying to watch more broadcasts, whether it’s the previous productions that I was a part of, or another network’s coverage of the sport. I’m always looking for any way to gain more information.”

An ever-changing media landscape also brought Tony Romo, a charismatic Dallas Cowboys quarterback turned acclaimed color commentator, into Cohen’s realm.

Sports Emmys, which usually require a thrilling, high quality event to win, are ultimately out of the team’s control. Fortunately, Cohen and company had complete control over theirs broadcast performance, which, combined with Romo’s vital insight, proved successful at the highest stage.

“We let the scene of the stadium help us in the most critical moments,” Cohen said. “We didn’t try to jam in a bunch of big graphics or video elements that were prepared ahead of time. We let the game speak for itself, and then filled in the blanks with great replay sequences or great live shots and commentator discussions.

“Tony Romo was completely on top of his game in the booth. … Part of that was due to our familiarity with the Patriots. Covering so many of their games, Tony was able to pick up on their tendencies, and it helped him ‘predict’ many of their plays down the stretch of the game.”

And like any loyal student of sports media, Cohen’s attitude around hands-on experiences is unwavering. Even the more casual details, brought into his life through repetition and regional familiarity, played a role in his Emmy success.

“It was our third game in Kansas City of the year,” Cohen said. “We knew the area well, had some good food, including a crew barbecue dinner at Q39 on that Friday night. We were all in good spirits throughout the weekend, and we ended up with an unforgettable game that went to overtime.

“After the game, we all knew that we came through in a big way.”

To understand the way Tiger Woods’ victory at The Masters is being covered and described in sports journalism, the Sport Ethic is the perfect lens:

To review, the Sport Ethic can be seen as the worldview that elite athletes (professional, Olympic, high-level college) and coaches ascribe to. Sociologists Robert Hughes and Jay Coakely came up with this idea in a landmark 1991 paper. The four elements of the Sport Ethic are as follows (all quotes are from Coakely’s 2009 book, Sports in Society: Issues and Controversies):

Athletes are dedicated to “the game” above all other things. “Athletes must love ‘the game’ and prove it by giving it top priority in their lives. They must have the proper attitude.”
Athletes strive for distinction. “Winning symbolizes improvement and establishes distinction.”

Athletes accept risks and play through pain. “Athletes are expected to endure pressure, pain and fear without backing down from competitive challenges.”

Athletes accept no obstacles in the pursuit of success in sports. “Athletes don’t accept obstacles without trying to overcome them and beat the odds; dreams, they say, are achievable unless one quits.”

One of my operating hypotheses as a sports media researcher has been that sports journalism perpetuates the Sport Ethic, primarily through its reliance upon players and coaches as sources for stories. And understanding the Sport Ethic is a key to understanding the significance of Tiger Woods’ victory. In fact, Woods’ entire career can be reflected in the four elements of the Sport Ethic. Woods, throughout his life, was shown to be dedicated to the game above all else. His last victory at a major before this weekend came in 2008, when he won the U.S. Open while playing with stress fractures in one of his legs (Accept risks and play through pain).

Woods’ comeback is an elegant example of the refusal to accept obstacles in the pursuit of success. From the self-inflicted pains of adultery and drug abuse to the series of injuries and surgeries that have derailed his career the past few years, the Tiger Woods story is one full of obstacles overcome and odds beaten. It’s not coincidence that Nike’s post-Masters ad revolves around the theme of dreams:

https://twitter.com/Nike/status/1117497381832933376?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw%7Ctwcamp%5Etweetembed%7Ctwterm%5E1117497381832933376&ref_url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.sportsmediaguy.com%2Fblog%2F2019%2F4%2F16%2Ftiger-woods-and-the-sport-ethic

But it’s the second thread that has me thinking the most. The importance of winning in sports and the Sport Ethic. That life has a scoreboard and we are measured by our wins and losses.

If there’s one thing that has bothered me a bit about the Tiger Woods coverage (aside from the “this is the greatest story in sports history” hyperbole), it’s the notion that he completed his comeback, vindicated himself, proved himself, because he won. To me, that ties personal vindication far too closely with success. As if his comeback would have been any less impressive personally if a ball had bounced an inch to the right on Sunday. As if his value as a person depended on his score, as if his hug with his son only mattered because he had the lowest score on the golf course.

But of course, that’s sports, right? There’s a scoreboard, and there are winners and losers. And if you aren’t a winner, you are a loser. And if you are a winner, you are distinct. You are good.

That is the essence of the Sport Ethic.

ESPN senior writer Wright Thompson’s advice on April 15 was simple: Find what you’re passionate about and treat it like a craft.

Early in his career, Thompson looked at longform stories and couldn’t understand how they came to be. He thought there was some kind of magic involved.

Now that he’s earned a reputation as a master of these types of stories, he knows there’s no secret.

“This is very much the result of 20 years working at a craft,” Thompson said. “The ones who are going to succeed treat it like a craft.”

Thompson gave this advice and more to Media School students and faculty at a public talk Monday in the Franklin Hall commons. He also discussed his new book, “The Cost of These Dreams: Sports Stories and Other Serious Business,” which compiles stories about sports figures including Michael Jordan, the Chicago Cubs, Pat Riley and Lionel Messi, among others.

Read more from Laurel Demkovich at The Media School website.