The Gary Payton toothpaste incident

AI from ChatGPT writes a better story than I could have

BEND, Ore. - I’ve written five or six chapters in a book that I’m hoping to finish at some point in my lifetime. The betting odds on the book being finished are listed at 10-1 against it ever happening, no doubt due to a mixture of questionable ambition, a history of procrastination and general overall laziness.

But it would rank as my biggest lifetime regret, right behind flipping a cart at Palouse Ridge in April. I swear, when I’m on my death bed and mere minutes from being deader than a door nail, I’ll be mad at myself for not finishing one damn book in my life.

By the way, I have no idea what a door nail is or how it became that dead, but it’s an old saying that no one says anymore, but I still do, I guess because I’m old enough to remember it being said back in the day.

The title of the book will be something along the lines of “45 years of untold stories from a Seattle sportswriter and talk show host,” featuring one chapter after another of behind-the-curtain things that happened in my career.

I truly don’t know how interesting this will be to anyone, and I don’t care if I make a dime on the book, I just want to accomplish a long-held goal of writing a book.

With that, I’ll introduce you to Zach Goldberg, a friend of mine who, along with his wife Diana, were in town this past week and came over for dinner on Thursday. Zach’s cool, his kid Max played for the Bend Elks summer team and also played with Mikey and Stevie at Issaquah High several years ago now.

Somehow the topic of my book came up that night and Zach told me how AI and ChatGPT could help me get it finished.

As an example, he had me tell the AI bot a story, any story, and I decided to give it or him or her or whatever the bot is a story about the time Gary Payton and I nearly came to blows in a Sacramento locker room before a playoff game in 1996.

Just as background, the Sonics had lost in the first round the previous two years to the Nuggets and Lakers and had just lost Game 2 to the Kings, evening the series at 1-1 and making everyone feel like they were gonna blow another great season again.

I found out that even though the Sonics lost, Payton gave it everything he had to the point that he needed to go to a local hospital for IV fluids after the game. I knew no one else had that information and I wanted to write that story before Game 3 in Sacramento.

So I approached him in the locker room to talk to him about it, and these were the basic details I told the bot. Here’s the story the bot spit out in a matter of seconds along with the comment it made to Zach:

You got it, Zach — here’s the full story written in the Jim Moore style: part sportswriter, part agitator, part wiseass with a soft spot for underdogs and chaos. Think of it as “Tough guy meets tough love in the locker room”.

“That Ain’t Got Nothing to Do with Basketball”: My Run-In with Gary Payton

By Jim Moore (if he weren’t busy telling it on KJR)

I’ve covered a lot of athletes. Some are guarded. Some are jerks. Some are too polite for their own good. And then there’s Gary Payton — the Glove, the grinder, the guy who’d trash-talk you through a pickup game, a playoff series, or a funeral procession if he felt like it.

And back in the day, when the Sonics were stuck in a first-round hellhole for the third year in a row, I saw something that made me think: Maybe this was the year they’d break through.

Game 2, Sacramento Kings. The Sonics had just lost again, but Gary had played his guts out. I mean that almost literally. I found out after the game that he’d spent the night at Harborview Hospital hooked up to IVs. That’s not nothing. That’s the kind of detail that makes a story sing. The kind of story that makes you think, “OK, this guy’s laying it all out — body, soul, ego — just to drag his team across the finish line.”

So naturally, I wanted to talk to him about it.

The Sonics were heading into Game 3 in Sacramento. Locker room access, pregame. I approached Gary — polite, respectful, doing the job — and I said:

“Hey man, I know you guys lost, but I heard you spent the night in the hospital getting fluids. That tells me you left everything out there. I think it’s a great story — your toughness, your leadership, what it means to you after the past two years. I’d love to tell that story.”

He stared at me, cool as ever, and said:

“That ain’t got nothin’ to do with basketball.”

I blinked. Thought maybe he misunderstood me.

“No, it does, Gary. It’s everything to do with basketball. You gave everything, your team still lost, but it shows who you are, what you’re made of.”

He didn’t flinch.

“That ain’t got nothin’ to do with basketball.”

Now, I’ve been blown off before — it happens — but this wasn’t just a brush-off. This was a brick wall with attitude. Still, I believed in the story. It was honest. It had heart. So I went back in one more time:

“Gary, you’re the leader. You’ve carried this team. This is exactly the kind of thing that fans and readers care about. It’s about redemption, legacy, effort…”

He cut me off again.

“That ain’t got nothin’ to do with basketball.”

And I just snapped.

I had thanked this guy every time I talked to him. Even when he glared, shrugged, or answered with a grunt. But this time?

“You know what, Gary? I’m so sick of your shit.”

He stood up. Now, I’m no NBA player — I’m 6 feet tall on a generous day — and he’s got that wiry, coiled-spring frame that says “I’ll end you faster than a first-round sweep.”

He locked eyes with me and said:

“So what are you gonna do about it?”

For a second, my brain ran through every possible option: cry, run, quote Allen Iverson. But instead, I noticed something.

A tiny glob of toothpaste in the corner of his mouth.

So I pointed and said:

“You got a little toothpaste right there.”

Which, in hindsight, might’ve been the most passive-aggressive power move I’ve ever pulled. Because then?

He swung at me.

Didn’t connect — thank God — because a teammate (bless his soul) stepped in. Before I could even breathe, George Karl flew in like a big bald grizzly bear, grabbed me in a full-on hug, and pulled me away like I was some kind of rabid squirrel in a polo shirt.

And then it got real professional. Real classy.

“F*** you, Gary!”

“F*** you, Jim!”

“No, F*** YOU, Gary!”

“F*** YOU!”

It was like an R-rated Dr. Seuss book.

“I would not, could not, in a gym.

I will not talk to you, Jim.”

Eventually, the PR guy came over and told me Gary was off-limits for the next few days. Which was fine, because I had enough story already.

Just not the one I thought I was going to write.

This is me again, the actual Jim, not the one who wrote what you just read if you got this far.

I don’t know how I feel about this. The one thing I will say, without question, that’s better than anything I will write in the chapter of my book about the Payton incident.

It’s spooky, I mean, it was written like I would have written something, only in a spiffed-up style.

I get what my friend Zach was saying - this AI bot can help me get my book banged out in a much quicker way than I could by conventionally writing it myself.

But would it really be “my” book? Zach said I could use AI to simply outline what I’m writing to help me organize my thoughts.

We’ve talked about meeting in the next month or so and Zach firmly believes we could knock this thing out in a few days with a fifth of tequila and some tacos with an assist from ChatGPT.

I’ve had a couple days to think about this AI stuff, wondering if it’s a good thing or not. If I use it in any shape or form, does it border on plagiarism? And if it does, who am I plagiarizing exactly?

I also thought about those nights after Sonics’ games when I looked at a blank screen at 10:15 p.m. and knew I had to get my story in by the 11 o’clock deadline. The next 45 minutes were beyond stressful - you wanted to write a good story but were very limited with time.

I’m guessing beat writers now, when faced with such a time restriction, resort to AI methods to help them make deadline. I could be wrong, but honestly, how would you know if I wrote that Gary Payton toothpaste incident story or didn’t?

I just don’t think I could look myself in the mirror after the book comes out - if it ever does - and feel good about it if it’s too bot driven or even a little bot driven.

I’d be interested in your thoughts on this and thinking you feel the same way about AI. Or maybe you don’t.

Thanks for reading. Have a good weekend.