The third thing you should know is Sid Hartman is a legendary sports reporter for the Minneapolis Star-Tribune newspaper. He’s got to be about 120 years old by now. I remember reading his articles when I was a kid and listening to him on WCCO radio too. He knew former Vikings coach Bud Grant when Bud was a college student. He watched the Lakers practice when they were the Minneapolis Lakers. To Sid, you’re either a genius, an idiot or a close personal friend who eats with him at Vescio’s restaurant on the campus of the University of Minnesota, or at Murray’s for their famous silver butter-knife steak. It seems he knows everyone and everyone knows him. He’s also my one and only bobblehead.

Sid sits on the top of my refrigerator. That way I’m guaranteed to see him at least a few times a day and probably once too often at night when I get home from work. His head bobbles when I open the door. He’s a good bobblehead with a reporter notebook and pen in his hand. His hat has the old-school “press” sign on it. He’s also the inspiration for my little black book.

OK, it’s not “really” a little black book. It is 19 pages of names, home phone, work phone, cell phone and pager numbers I’ve collected since I’ve been at WCNC-TV. 19 pages stapled together with those names and numbers on both sides. It lives in my briefcase. I take it everywhere. I misplace it occasionally among my other stacks of stuff in my briefcase and breathe a huge sigh of relief when I find it. I’m lucky I haven’t lost it yet. I haven’t counted, but it has to be nearing 800 numbers or so. There are more names and numbers on business cards bunched together in my briefcase that I haven’t yet put in my “book.” I can thank Sid for the lesson.

One thing that he wrote in his autobiography years ago was making sure he got names and numbers in case he needed to get in touch with you about a story. The boss at the Minneapolis Star-Tribune once said Sid was the most well-connected person at the entire paper as a sports reporter. When the newsroom needed a number to confirm information, it turned to Sid. Sports people, business people, politicians, celebrities or whoever, Sid had the number. He told stories of his phone ringing all hours of the day and night with people calling in tips and big scoops, no matter the topic. Once I got into journalism school and then into television, I figured I needed to be like Sid.

It hit home the other day. I was updating my little black book. It took hours to type the new numbers I had scribbled in the margins and add them in a readable printed version. My handwriting rivals any doctor’s prescription and the old “book” gets crumpled and torn. A fresh version in hand feels like a crisp 20 dollar bill. I looked at it and said “I know a lot of people.” I’m sure some folks wish I never had their number because hearing from a reporter isn’t exactly high on a lot of people’s priority list. Some I rarely call. Others are standards. Many sit there, uncalled for years, until something happens and I say “I think I have his or her number.” Of course, there are plenty of times I wish I had a number.

It is part of the job and it’s a big part of what we do. Our station phones ring all day and we’re calling people all day. It’s a big part of how we find news. You’ve all heard the saying ‘it’s who you know.” There’s a lot of truth to that. We spend hours working to put our stories on the air. The stories on average last about one minute, 20 seconds.

So now, in my first blog, I thank all of you who’ve helped me and called, answered, emailed, paged or even flagged me down to give me a tip, respond to questions or give us what we need to put a story together.

I’m no Sid Hartman, but I see him every day as a reminder to try. So if you end up in my little black book, blame the bobblehead.