Nba
Looking for a Great Sports Journalism Example? Here Are 5 Outstanding Samples
I remember the first time I truly appreciated great sports journalism—it was during the 2016 NBA Finals, when I stumbled upon a piece that didn't just recap the game but captured the emotional weight of LeBron James leading the Cavaliers to their historic comeback. That's when I realized that exceptional sports writing isn't just about reporting scores; it's about storytelling that connects readers to the heartbeat of competition. Today, I want to share five outstanding examples that demonstrate this artistry, starting with a recent masterpiece from Philippine basketball that had me completely hooked.
Let me begin with that thrilling PBA game from December 3rd, where RAIN or Shine finally broke through in their semifinal series against TNT with a 103-98 victory at the Smart-Araneta Coliseum. What made the coverage so compelling wasn't just the final score—though the five-point margin certainly added to the drama—but how journalists painted the context of this being their first win in the 49th Season Commissioner's Cup semifinals. The best pieces I read didn't just state facts; they made me feel the desperation of both teams, the strategic adjustments coaches made during timeouts, and the electric atmosphere of 12,000 fans witnessing this turnaround. This coverage exemplifies what I love about great sports journalism: it makes you understand why the game matters beyond the numbers.
The second example comes from a completely different sport but shares that same storytelling magic. I'm thinking of Wright Thompson's ESPN piece on Andy Murray's final Wimbledon appearance—a 4,200-word deep dive that explored legacy, physical decline, and the psychology of farewell tours. Thompson didn't just report; he embedded himself in Murray's world, capturing details like the way the tennis star's hands shook during medical treatments and his dark humor about retirement. This is the kind of journalism I wish we saw more often—stories that treat athletes as complex human beings rather than statistical entities. The piece spent as much time on Murray's relationship with his grandmother as it did on his backhand technique, creating a portrait that resonated emotionally.
My third pick might surprise you because it's not from a major publication but from an independent soccer blog that covered Manchester United's chaotic 2022-2023 season. The writer—someone I've followed for years—combined traditional match analysis with cultural commentary, connecting the team's performance to broader issues like ownership structures and fan protests. What stood out to me was how they used advanced statistics (like expected goals and pressing triggers) while maintaining a conversational tone that made complex concepts accessible. They'd write sentences like "United's xG of 2.3 tells only part of the story—the real drama was in how they collapsed structurally after the 70th minute," blending data with vivid observation in ways that mainstream outlets often struggle to achieve.
For my fourth example, I want to highlight something closer to home—the coverage of collegiate athletics, specifically how student journalists at Duke University documented their basketball team's NCAA tournament run last March. These pieces had an intimacy that professional reporting sometimes lacks, with behind-the-scenes access to dorm room celebrations and professors discussing players' academic commitments. One profile of a walk-on player who balanced pre-med studies with tournament preparation contained this beautiful sentence that stuck with me: "While opponents studied his defensive weaknesses, he was studying organic chemistry reactions between practices." That human element—that reminder that these are students first—is something I believe sports journalism often misses in its pursuit of drama.
The fifth and final example I'll share comes from Olympic reporting, specifically the coverage of Simone Biles' return to competition after her mental health break. The best articles didn't just chronicle her vault scores but contextualized her journey within larger conversations about athlete welfare and performance pressure. I particularly admired how journalists balanced statistics (her 14.650 average on beam) with psychological insight, creating narratives that respected both her athletic greatness and human vulnerability. This approach represents what I consider the future of sports journalism—coverage that recognizes athletic achievement as inseparable from personal experience.
What all these examples share, in my view, is a commitment to treating sports as cultural touchstones rather than mere entertainment. The RAIN or Shine coverage worked because it understood that this wasn't just another playoff game—it was about redemption after previous losses. The Murray piece succeeded because it saw his retirement as a meditation on mortality in athletics. The Manchester United analysis mattered because it connected on-field performance to off-field governance. These journalists all understood something crucial: people don't just want to know what happened; they want to understand why it matters.
As someone who both consumes and occasionally contributes to sports media, I've noticed that the most memorable pieces often come from writers who have clear points of view without being partisan. They're not afraid to say "this coaching decision was brilliant" or "that player's transformation surprised me" while backing those opinions with evidence. The RAIN or Shine articles that stood out specifically praised coaching adjustments that shifted the game's momentum—opinions grounded in observable patterns rather than mere preference. This balance between subjectivity and rigor is what separates good journalism from great journalism in my book.
Looking at these five examples collectively, I'm struck by how the digital age has expanded rather than diminished opportunities for quality sports journalism. We're seeing more diverse voices, more experimental formats, and deeper connections between statistics and storytelling. The coverage of that PBA semifinal incorporated real-time social media reactions from players themselves, creating a multidimensional narrative that wouldn't have been possible a decade ago. For aspiring sports writers reading this, my advice would be to study these examples not as templates to copy but as inspiration for finding your own voice within the rich tradition of sports storytelling. The field needs more writers who can make readers feel both the intellectual satisfaction of understanding game strategy and the visceral thrill of athletic triumph—writers who can make a 103-98 basketball game feel like a window into human determination itself.