One of my best friends has always known how to turn around the sagging fortunes of community newspapers. It's simple, really, but all the people who've wasted years watching newspapers die have failed to grasp what my pal knows to be true.
People buy small newspapers for the same reasons that they buy metro newspapers or check their favorite web sites. They want to be informed, entertained, inspired, amused and to feel like they're getting some bang for their buck.
My friend was the sports editor at a Solano County newspaper for years. Even when he built a staff of writers that produced an abundance of hyper-local copy, he knew that many of the Fairfield Daily Republic's 18,000 or so readers couldn't have cared less about the local Little League or high school teams.
He knew that there were folks who'd never buy his newspaper if all he could provide them were stories about kid and amateur adult athletes those folks weren't interested in at all.
What? You think community newspapers will grow strong featuring nothing but small-town, local sports? OK. When was the last time you went to watch a Tuesday night bowling league event or a youth club's swim meet?
See? You don't care about that stuff, so why would you read about it?
So, my friend Brad Stanhope kept his eye out for national and international stories that he considered "water cooler stories." He knew it was foolish to think everyone who could buy the Daily Republic only wanted to read about the events and people in Fairfield, Suisun City, etc. It was simple, but it was genius ... and the editors and publishers who are strangling the lives out of their community papers now still don't get it.
No, really ... they don't get it. I've been a sports editor more recently than Brad Stanhope has been and my effort to keep his "water cooler story" theory convinced me that the people who can save small papers are actually without a clue as to what can save them.
One day Brad, my boss, decided that our featured story should be an Associated Press piece about people in Great Britain who wager on squirrel racing.
"People are going to stop and read this story," he said, smiling because I rolled my eyes, speechless at the thought of a community paper featuring a piece about gambling ... on squirrels ... in Great Britain.
Brad knew that people didn't buy the Daily Republic to read Associated Press stories. He just thought that not all AP stories were created equally.
"If you didn't work here would you read that story about the 49ers that you want to put in that spot?" he asked.
Excellent question. And, no ... I wouldn't read a generic story about the San Francisco 49ers written by a wire service reporter who, I knew, doesn't give much time or thought to the team or the story. And, I read about the 49ers in a dozen other spots, so why would I read about them in the DR?
Clearly, Brad had thought through his theory, which is more than most of today's small-town editors and publishers have done.
Today's Daily Republic sports section featured a Little League all-star game featuring 9- and 10-year-old players.
Everyone who read today's DR got to that sports page, thought, "Isn't it nice that they're writing and taking photographs of the local children," then turned the page without giving the story a second thought.
The only people who care about a baseball game between 9- and 10-year-old players are their parents, immediate family, a few frienda and, well ... wait! It's uncertain if anyone beyond parents would read a game story once they figured out the final score.
I can't remember a thing about that Little League all-star story or any of the other dozens of hyper-local high school or other sports featured daily in the Daily Republic. I can't remember much about hundreds of similar stories I've written myself.
I remember that story about squirrel racing. It was different. It caught my eye and stopped me on the page.
How do I know that hyper-local doesn't sell? Well, I know the circulation figures haven't risen in Fairfield or Napa (or Vallejo or Vacaville) very much or for very long in the last decade or two. If the all-local, all-the-time nonsense was truly appealing, circulation figures would rise.
Interesting stories sell papers. Stories that appear to be interesting generate web page views.
The squirrel racing story was interesting. I remember people who read it and thought, "This is ridiculous." Still, they read it. When they put the Daily Republic down they knew they could count on finding stories in there that they might not find anywhere else.
I'm certain that people would have discussed it around the water cooler if there were still water coolers in many offices.
I was reminded that my friend can save community newspapers, if they'd let him, when I looked at the Daily Republic today.
My friend has a new gig at the DR, on the news side. So, I wasn't surprised to see an A1 story from the Associated Press about a move that could result in overly obese children being taken away from their parents. It was tucked in amongst those hyper-local stories I never read.
I read that story about the fat kids being snatched away from their parents and realized that my pal's still finding the interesting story -- and then selling it to managers who are looking for local names and local news and, apparently, to bore me to death.
Brad is probably explaining his "water cooler" theory to a new generation of co-workers. And, he's starting by telling the younger staff members what it was like when offices had water coolers.
Just because it's local doesn't make it interesting. I hope my friend can convince more people of that quickly, while newspapers still have a chance.
(Contact Ted Sillanpaa at tsillanpaa1956@gmail.com.)
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