Mike Penner, sportswriter extraordinaire

Mike Penner, who died Friday at 52, left us too soon. He was not only a fine sportswriter, he was a friendly voice on the phone and a genuinely good person. Those of us who worked with him in The Times sports department knew every story he turned in had the potential to be the most entertaining read of the day. The photo that has accompanied most of the news reports of his death was the one slapped on his company ID badge. Would you want everyone to picture you that way? I prefer the photo above made by Gary Ambrose. That's how I remember Mike Penner.

Today many colleagues and readers are recalling their favorite Mike Penner stories. Former Times baseball writer Ross Newhan offers his thoughts at the Fabulous Forum blog.

I'll never forget a story Penman, as we called him, wrote from the 1998 Winter Olympics in Nagano, Japan, when Russian figure skater Ilia Kulik won a gold medal "while wearing his infamous giraffe-spotted rain slicker." The rest of the story (and a photo) is after the jump.

Let us know which of Penner's news stories or columns stand out in your memory.

-- Claire Noland

Photo: Former Times sportswriter Elliott Almond, left, with Mike Penner at the 2004 Athens Olympics. Credit: Gary Ambrose / Los Angeles Times

Sunday February 15, 1998

WINTER OLYMPICS 1998
Kulik Wears Out the Competition
* He Looks Like a Mess, Skates Like a Champion

By Mike Penner

Times Staff Writer

NAGANO, Japan -- They said giraffes would fly before Elvis Stojko won an Olympic gold medal, and that's exactly what happened Saturday night at the quadrennial animation festival known as the Olympic men's figure skating long program.

Ilia Kulik, a 20-year-old Russian who defies the laws of physics as well as the concept of dressing for success, won the championship by spending more time in the air than your average commuter flight, landing one quadruple and eight triple jumps while wearing his infamous giraffe-spotted rain slicker, believed to be on loan from the Moscow Zoo.

Looking like the logo for Toys R Us, Kulik completed what figure skating experts were calling the most difficult technical program ever seen at the Olympic Games--and dressed like that, how could it not be?

Skating to George Gershwin's "Rhapsody in Blue"--or, as it is known in the States, the United Airlines theme song--Kulik went airborne for a full 29 revolutions above the ice, unprecedented in Olympic history.

At the same time, Kulik overwhelmed an arena full of compelling mini-dramas, including:

* Elvis leaving the building in agony, having aggravated a groin injury he and his coach hid from the media for a month, an injury that prevented him from trying his patented quadruple-toe, triple-toe combination.

* D'Artagnan winning the bronze medal with the fiercest display of air-sword fighting ever seen in a non-fencing Olympic event.

* Alexei Yagudin coming down with flu on the biggest night of his young life, unable to stomach anything stronger than hot tea, and falling twice en route to fifth place.

* Todd Eldredge ending his final bid for an Olympic medal with a thud, crashing on a late attempt to stretch a double axel into a triple and finishing fourth.

The United States has now gone 10 years and three Winter Olympics without winning the men's figure skating gold medal. Since Brian Boitano's victory in Calgary in 1988, the lone American male to win a medal was Paul Wylie, second-place finisher in 1992.

The mantle of world supremacy in the sport has swung from the Americans to a coalition of skaters from former Soviet republics. Since Boitano's triumph, the list of men's gold medalists reads:

1992: Viktor Petrenko, Ukraine.

1994: Alexei Urmanov, Russia.

1998: Ilia Kulik, Russia.

Silver and bronze medalists, however, remained unchanged from Lillehammer. Stojko duplicated the silver medal he won in 1994 and France's Philippe Candeloro--a.k.a. D'Artagnan, the fourth musketeer--repeated as bronze medalist.

Kulik is the first male skater in 50 years to win the gold medal in his first Olympic appearance, a streak dating to American Dick Button and 1948.

Predictably, Kulik spent most of Saturday with his stomach turning triple flips, fretting about a 4 1/2-minute exercise he described as "unbelievable pressure."

"All these eight days, such a big pressure was on me," Kulik said. "Each practice, each day, I have to concentrate so much. Each practice was like a full competition. It was unbelievable.

"I normally sleep during the day of a competition, but today that was not possible. I skated the program in my mind all of the time. While waiting to go on the ice, I was very nervous."

Going out and nailing a quad on your first jump can have a tremendous calming effect, however. Once Kulik completed that difficult assignment, he began to ease into the rest of the program.

Never have eight triple jumps in a four-minute span looked more effortless.

Kulik, the leader after Thursday's short program, effectively ended the competition there, receiving 10 scores of 5.9.

"I see Ilia skate," Candeloro said, "and I see a quad, and I see a triple axel-triple toe, and I say, 'OK, he won.' "

Stojko, second after the long program and armed with a potent quad-triple combination jump, was the only skater with a realistic chance of catching Kulik.

But hobbled by a pulled groin muscle suffered at the Canadian championships in early January, Stojko hadn't taken a jump since Thursday night's short program. Stojko skipped all jumps in workouts Friday and Saturday morning, and when he tried a triple jump during warmups before the long program, he fell hard and crashed into the boards.

"That was just a case of him getting back on his feet," Stojko's coach, Doug Leigh, said. "He hadn't jumped since Thursday. In practice, he only stroked around because he didn't have anything left. During warmups, he had to prepare in a hurry."

Stojko never tried the quad-triple combination, the linchpin of his routine, and winced his way through seven triple jumps, landing each cleanly but tentatively.

The moment the music stopped, signaling the end of his program, Stojko's knees buckled and he doubled over in pain. Shortly after he limped off the ice and withstood the medal ceremony with his right leg tightly wrapped, Stojko was transported to a nearby medical center for treatment.

"If there's a medal for bravery, he should get one," Leigh said of Stojko. "That's what he's all about. . . .

"This happened a month ago, at the Canadian nationals. We kept it to ourselves and tried to push through it because the Olympics come and go--you don't get many chances like this. We just decided to do whatever it takes.

"Tonight, it took a lot."

Leigh also coached Canadian Brian Orser to second place in 1984 and 1988, giving him four silver medals and no gold to show for his years with Orser and Stojko.

"Just call me 'Hi Ho Silver,' " Leigh said, managing an unconvincing smile.

Eldredge, five times the U.S. champion, had failed to win a medal in his only other Olympic appearance, in 1992, when he placed 10th. (He failed to qualify for the 1994 Games.) He was third here after the short program, but watched the bronze medal vanish when he doubled his first two planned triple jumps and took a tumble trying to throw in a make-up triple axel near the end of his routine.

Skating off with his hands on his hips, Eldredge knew then that the medal was gone.

"I knew how I skated," he said, "and more than likely, that was not a medal performance. There were plenty of guys left to skate and probably one of them was going to get a medal. And that's what happened."

Candeloro, fifth after the short program, vaulted over Eldredge with a crowd-thrilling routine performed to "The Three Musketeers" by Maxim Rodriguez, with Candeloro in the swashbuckling role of D'Artagnan.

Why D'Artagnan?

"Because I can't be three guys on the ice," Candeloro reasoned, logically. "Just one."

Candeloro hammed it up to the hilt, pulling his shoulder-length hair back into a ponytail and donning full musketeer garb, complete with faux thigh-high boots.

Candeloro brought the crowd to its feet with a mock sword fight as he dashed across the ice, his saber thrusts perfectly timed to the music's metallic clanging of striking swords.

And then there was Kulik's giraffe shirt, undoubtedly the ugliest ever worn en route to an Olympic gold medal.

A reporter asked Kulik where in the world he bought such a monstrosity, prompting a laugh from the usually stoic Kulik.

"I doubt that I can buy this shirt anywhere," Kulik said. "It was made special for me and my program. My good mother from Moscow did it. I like it very much. It's a lucky shirt.

"I don't think there should be questions about this shirt. Because the shirt has won."

Photo: Gold medalist Ilia Kulik of Russia at the 1998 Nagano Olympics. Credit: Doug Mills / Associated Press

Comments

[Eponymous]

Thank you for posting a picture of Mike other than his company ID and the sensationalized shots of him dressed as Christine.

[Guy Gruppie]

Mike Penner was one of the last additions to a remarkable group of young sportswriters that John Cherwa assembled at The Times' now-defunct Orange County edition in the early 1980s, but also one of the most talented and dedicated. I will always remember Mike laboring for days on end, with little or no sleep, on a controversial piece about a just-emerging parochial school basketball program, and being amazed at not only the style of the piece but how committed he was to making sure that the story was balanced and fair. It was a journalistic product of unique quality that was a preview of the outstanding work he would provide The Times for years on a variety of assignments. From covering the Angels to the Olympics, Mike demonstrated that he was not just a great writer who strove to go beyond the surface in an often superficial business, but also a skilled reporter. As others have noted, he was always there to help friends out, and offer them counsel in matters professional and personal without every casting judgement. I only wish we could have offered him more of the solace he needed in recent years. Farewell and God rest your soul, Mike. It was a privilege to be your colleague, and an even greater one to be your friend.

[Clay Landon]

His coverage of the World Cup was nothing short of heroic. Finally, an American writer who writes about soccer like Americans write about other sports. It's a small portion of work from a terrific career. I don't claim to know him but this sports fan will sorely miss his dedication. I don't know who said that the goal in life is to be remembered. I don't believe Mike Penner ever had that as a goal; he did his job, he did it well, he did it with class. He will always be remembered.

Rest in peace.

[thom]

Talk about an identity crisis. The poor guy must have been torn apart everytime he approached a public bathroom.

I read the latimes' sports section semi-religiously, but I'm a late convert and I've been ticked off for decades by the tendency in papers to hire categories instead of writers -- you know, black, brown, female and the always special one-legged, autistic, Asian woman. As my girlfriend puts it: "Why would I want to read somebody I wouldn't want to listen to at a party?"

(plaschke, simers, dwyre with a drink in their hand would be a rich target)

SPORTS BIMBO ALERT

So, when suddenly this pretty blonde was pushed into my computer screen with the stage name of Christine Daniels, I wondered what bonafides she had to be so assertive about sports, which, when I was growing up, girls like her avoided like shop classes.

And now I get the rest of the story and am knocked over. Oops. As America's paper, the Onion, observed, stereotypes save so much time -- and, like cliches, are usually right. In other words, I got it totally wrong.

In my experience hetersexual women can be more open, sensitive, flexible -- which are great traits for a writer to have. There was a British reporter who accompanied the first Everest Expedition (Jan Murrow?) and successfully made the switch. It's too bad Penner couldn't pull it off. But prejudiced people like myself sure didn't help her.

[Julie]

My heart goes out to Christine, and all those who knew her. I am using feminine pronouns and her name Christine, because this individual was indeed a "she." Though at the time of death, she was living in a male gender role, she was doing so only because the strain of transition is horrible.

I, like Christine, had gender issues to deal with. I was fortunate enough to be able to transition in relative obscurity. That was difficult enough. Sadly, though most people are kind and compassionate, it only takes one horrible bigot to destroy the spirit.

The toll of living in the wrong gender role is bad, but so is the emotional strain of transition. It's a no-win situation, in which thoughts of suicide can be a constant companion. I can't imagine what a public transition would be like.

My heart goes out to her and her loved ones. In the words of Sarah McLachlan: "In the arms of the angels, may you find, some comfort here"

[Claire Noland]

Here's another story, nominated by Mike's brother John:

Tuesday October 3, 1995

Down and Out in Kingdome
Commentary: The losing tradition continues with Langston and the cursed franchise flat on their backs.

By MIKE PENNER, TIMES STAFF WRITER

SEATTLE -- Here lies Mark Langston.

If ever a picture was worth a million words, this was the one.

If ever one frozen moment in time embodied the essence of a tortured franchise that, let's face it, has to be cursed--were they Caligula's Angels in a previous lifetime?--it was captured on the floor of the Kingdome in the bottom of the seventh inning of Monday's one-game playoff for the American League West championship.

What could Langston have been thinking as he lay in the dirt of the batter's box, back on top of home plate, eyes glued to the gray concrete ceiling above him, hands clasped and folded across his chest, for what seemed to be an eternity?

Was that really Luis Sojo, who hardly hit a thing when he played for the Angels, who just cleared the bases for Seattle with a broken-bat cue ball inches inside the first-base line?

Did a six-time Gold Glove award-winning pitcher just cut off an otherwise perfect relay from Tim Salmon and throw the baseball all the way to the backstop, enabling Sojo to saunter home for the equivalent of an inside-the-park grand slam?

Now that it's 5-0, Seattle, is it possible to score six runs off Randy Johnson without hitting the ball?

When's the next flight out of here, anyway?

If I lie like this long enough, do you think the ground might open up and please swallow me whole?

If the Angels wanted an official logo to commemorate their 35th anniversary season, they can stop looking now. This is the one. The scene was complete, except for, possibly, a white lily wedged between Langston's fingers.

Another Angel dream of postseason liberation rests in pieces.

Monday was the Angels' last chance to remove the stigma of their unprecedented late-season collapse--from 13 games ahead of Seattle to three games down in less than two months. If they won here, they would go to New York as newly crowned champions of the AL West, September swoon be damned. And to get here, the Angels won their last five regular-season games in succession, which required Chuck Finley winning twice in a week on three days' rest and Mike Harkey throwing 6 2/3 scoreless innings against Oakland and craning their necks to spy on the scoreboard, begging the Texas Rangers to beat the Mariners twice during the final weekend.

Once here, they tried to put the ball in play against Big Unit Johnson amid the backdraft of 52,356 screaming sets of lungs cheering every strike against the Angels--and there were truckloads of them.

The Angels lost, 9-1.

They managed three hits and didn't have a baserunner until there were two outs in the sixth inning.

Why did they even bother?

Yet, it was still a 1-0 ballgame in the bottom of seventh when Sojo, mighty Sojo, came to bat. There were two outs, the bases were loaded and Langston seemed on the verge of pitching out of a self-inflicted jam. Tino Martinez reached base when the normally sure-handed Langston bobbled his sacrifice bunt. Joey Cora reached, too, when, Langston, failing to heed the mistakes of history and Shawn Boskie, plunked the Mariner second baseman with a 1-2 pitch.

But a sliding catch by Salmon had just denied Vince Coleman two or three RBIs. Sojo was next, and Langston knew him too well. Luis Sojo--the trade that burned the Angels coming and going. He came to the Angels in 1991 in the deal that sent Devon White to Toronto and World Series glory, and he went back to Toronto before the 1993 season in exchange for Kelly Gruber's one-functional rotator cuff.

So this is how Whitey Herzog contributed to the Angels' playoff bid of '95. Sojo bounces from Anaheim to Toronto to Seattle to the bottom of the seventh in the AL West championship decider. Fancy meeting the Angels here.

Who'd have fancied him beating the Angels here?

Sojo swung at Langston's first pitch and broke his bat. "A good pitch," catcher Andy Allanson assessed, "but that's obvious. If you go up there and break 27 bats, you're doing your job."

But the ball pogoed down the first-base line and spun away from first baseman J.T. Snow. "I thought I had it," Snow said. "I don't know if it hit a seam or the dirt or what, but it looked like a cue shot."

And the baseball rolled across the green artificial turf like a billiards shot aiming for the side pocket. Two runs were in by the time Salmon fielded it and fired home, trying to nail Cora.

He might have too, except Langston was stationed up the line between home and first base, cutting the ball off and then misfiring, miserably, to Allanson.

"He should have been behind the plate, backing up the throw," Manager Marcel Lachemann said of Langston. "He must've thought J.T. was going to make the play, and his first reaction was to cover first base."

Cora scored on Langston's error and before Allanson could peg the ball back to Langston at the plate, Sojo did too.

At that point, gravity and frustration caved in Langston. He flopped on his back and didn't get up, not for several seconds--the Angel collapse of '95, conceived as performance art.

So what was he thinking down there?

"The whole game flashed before my eyes right there," Langston said. "I was just thinking, 'We were so close. I can't believe it turned out the way it turned out.' "

Really?

Haven't 35 years of false finishes and booby-trapped Octobers taught us anything about this team?

Langston, the Gold Glove pitcher, errs in the clutch.

Sojo, the banjo-hitting Angel reject, turns a 1-0 struggle into a rout.

Only the Angels, only the Angels.

"I can see the irony of it," Angel president Richard Brown said as he slumped against the wall outside Lachemann's office.

"It's baseball. There's nothing to say other than 'That's baseball.' It's just a shame, after the tenacity we showed to win our last five games to get here, and then you lose it like that."

Brown flashed back to the indelible image of the hour: Langston on his back and the Angels down for the count.

"That picture probably summarizes everything for him and us," Brown said. "He gave it all for seven innings and then this. What can you say?"

After "Enough already," there isn't much.

--30--

[Eve]

Had she been living as Christine for the past few years? Then why is she referred to as "Mike" and "he" throughout every story I have read? I understand that she filed most of her stories and gained her fame as Mike, a "he," but this is disrespectful to her and to all transgendered people.

It's easy enough to refer to her as Christine, and in the past tense as Mike and "he." It's not that tough, really: people have written about Wendy Carlos and Jan Morris without breaking their keyboards.

It's dismissive treatment like this that causes so many transgendered people to kill themselves.

[Claire Noland]

Eve,
Mike returned to using the Mike Penner byline more than a year ago, and every time I saw him in the office, I saw Mike, dressed as Mike. Not Christine, dressed as Christine. All I can tell you is that he was Mike at work, which is where I knew him. I'm not trying to be disrespectful.
Thanks for your comment.

[Eve]

Ah, OK, thanks, Claire. That still makes me sad--I wonder why he decided he couldn't go through with it? Unsupportive family, friends, coworkers? Or did he just wait too long?I guess we'll never know. Too sad.

[Renee]

When I read about Mike's "tranformation" I was of course shocked and curious. But also deeply touched. He included in his essay a song list that helped him deal with the fear of how he would be accepted, post surgery. I downloaded a couple of the songs, and seeing them now in my iPod is a bit gut wrenching. To know his optimism somehow withered. Knowing he still did not find the peace he wanted so badly. He underwent such drastic and dangerous measures to find the happiness we all crave.
Mike, we will miss you. I will listen to some of your favorites today. I wish you could have stayed with us. I hope his family can come to terms with his death and reach the place where they can smile through the tears when they think of Mike. And reach that time sooner, rather than later.

"O-o-Child" The Five Stairsteps
"Running Up That Hill (A deal with God) Kate Bush

[timothy hughes]

Mike gave me my first stringer gig when I was in high school and he was the sports editor at the Anaheim Bulletin. We later got caught up when we were both writers at the Times. A great person, with a terrific sense of humor. And may I just say that no one alive chronicled the Angels' often sad and frustrating history with such a sense of impending doom, humor and deep knowledge and appreciation for my beloved Halos than Mike. Rest in Peace Mike.

[Brian]

Rest in Peace, Mike.

I totally remember when Mike changed to Christine, and all of the hatred that was spewed.

I cannot imagine the daily torture that Mike went through, and I sincerely hope that his soul finds peace.

[Claire Noland]

For the many readers who have asked about services, just wanted to let you know that they will be private. Thanks for your understanding.