Ever wonder why so many modern professional athletes despise and no longer trust the media?

Ever wonder why there’s a steadily increasing wall being built up between athletes and reporters?

Ever wonder why media relations workers treat beat writers with kid gloves, while athletic directors, general managers and owners often speak in short, meaningless, unrevealing soundbytes?

This is why.

And that—presented and set-up with all the class of an “Access Hollywood"-esque slaughter—is absolutely disgusting.

Congratulations, ESPN: you’re the new “Hard Copy,” the next “Dateline.”

Maybe Pat O’Brien can help out; fill in a slot or two.

Maybe you can start showing up at the homes of NFL players in the middle of the night (you know, just peek around ... see what’s going on).

Maybe you can start randomly showing up at strip clubs frequented by NBA players (or whatever outdated stereotype you wish to delve into).

But whatever you choose to “investigate” in the future (and trap athletes with; documenting every angle like you’ve just figured out how to cure cancer or how to solve the problems in Iraq), just remember: when people look back and wonder what happened to sports journalism—how and why it died—your name will be at the top of the list.

We salute you, worldwide leader.

You are the almighty lord of sports trash.