Why athlete stories should never fade

With shrinking newsrooms and fewer beat reporters, the industry has become leaner but also louder. Today’s new wave of media voices often seem less interested in understanding an athlete, and more focused on performing. Be seen. Be heard. Be branded.

There are still talented people entering the business, no doubt. But many come with a different goal than the generations before them. Journalism, for them, is less about curiosity and more about content. Less about connection, more about clicks.

It is easy to see why. We live in a media environment that rewards speed and spectacle. Take a quick quote, drop it into a tweet, and move on. The attention economy does not care how long you spent with the fourth-line grinder who just got called up. It wants drama. It wants debate.

But where does that leave the fans?

Because make no mistake, fans still care. They still want to know who these athletes are. They want to understand the journey behind the jersey. They are hungry for more than numbers. They want to know the goalie who battled depression before backstopping his team to the playoffs. They want to know why the captain tapes his stick a certain way because his dad used to. That is what makes sports personal. That is what makes fans feel something.

And maybe the bigger issue is not just the shift in media priorities. Maybe it is something deeper.

As a human race, we have grown increasingly superficial. We spend more time talking than listening. We post, promote, scroll but we rarely ask. The instinct to be curious, to dig deeper into someone else’s story, seems to be fading. But without that, how can we possibly uncover the moments that truly define an athlete? You cannot mine for gold if you are only skimming the surface.

That is why stories like Jakob Stancl opening up about the death of his father in an emotional interview with RocketFAN resonate so deeply. Or Mazden Leslie sharing the intimate story of a phone call he received from NHL veteran Luke Schenn when he needed encouragement most. Or Jari Kykkänen’s unique journey, using a Chinese monk’s teachings to improve his focus and performance. These are the kinds of insights that go beyond the surface and stick with fans.

More recently, father Dave Price shared what it meant to travel with his son Caden from Saskatoon to Kelowna for his final WHL training camp. They both knew it was the end of a chapter, Caden turning pro with the Seattle Kraken organization, and their last father-son road trip in junior hockey. That story, like so many others, might have slipped through the cracks without the right conversation at the right time.

And then there is Captain Max Graham. After being acquired by an NHL team, he spoke about the surreal moment of meeting Sidney Crosby. He was honest and vulnerable. You could hear the awe in his voice and that made the story not just good, but unforgettable.

To their credit, the Kelowna Rockets organization has been especially open in recent years, allowing RocketFAN unprecedented access to the players and their stories. It was not always that way. Some teams in the WHL, one in particular which I will not name, still operate with a sense of paranoia, controlling every detail to the point of alienating their fanbase. But the Rockets’ openness has allowed deeper stories to be told, and the fans are better for it.

Even still, some stories slip away. Entering my 31st season in the WHL and my 26th with the Kelowna Rockets, one of the most rewarding parts of the job has been telling the stories of players who perform at such a high level. That passion has never waned. What has been disappointing though, is when I later stumble across a personal story, something honest, inspiring, or deeply human after the player has already moved on to pro hockey. Moments missed. Not because they did not exist, but because they were not shared or I did not ask the right question in time. That is the kind of regret that lingers.

I still chuckle to this day thinking about the story of my late father attending a senior potluck supper on a sweltering summer evening. After a night of small talk and shared stories, one of the seniors leaned in and asked him if he was a journalist. You ask such good questions, they said.

He was not a journalist. He was a hardware manager at the Pioneer Co-op in Saskatchewan for over 30 years. But he did ask good questions. And more importantly, he listened.

Why? Because he cared.

The apple does not fall far from the tree.

As interest builds toward the 2026 Memorial Cup, and with entertainment dollars stretched thinner than ever, telling the stories beyond the stats is more important than ever. When fans connect with players as real people, flawed, vulnerable, driven, they become easier to cheer for. They become part of the community.

The best sports journalism has always come from a place of curiosity. The willingness to sit, listen, and learn. To find out what keeps an athlete grounded or what nearly broke them. That is the work. That is the reward. And that is what separates a journalist from an influencer.

Maybe it is old-fashioned. Maybe it is not what gets clicks anymore.

But it still matters.

Because long after the highlight fades or the viral moment disappears, fans remember the stories. The ones that made them feel something real.

So to the next generation of reporters. Do not just perform. Do not just publish. Ask. Listen. Dig. Spend time.

Tell the story.

Because in an era that feels increasingly noisy, it might just be the one thing that still cuts through.

by Regan Bartel

Why athlete stories should never fade

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