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A Naked Gamble

E.J. Mitchell's first hire is, er, ballsy—but is he accurate?

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John Spragens

Published on January 13, 2005

The Tennessean's new statehouse reporter, Trent Seibert, is a fast-talking, gregarious guy—the kind who says, "I gotta tell you..." over and over while saying things he could very well keep to himself. He's an aggressive reporter with a penchant for sniffing out controversy. And he knows how to liven up a budget meeting with a quick joke or brash aside. As a former colleague puts it, "He's a delightful nut."

And speaking of delightful nuts, Seibert exposed his for a 2000 story on a Colorado nudist camp. A reporter for the Denver Post at the time, he went above and beyond the call of duty (and below conventions of taste) by baring everything while doing the legwork for his story. What's more, the New Jersey native juiced up his (un)coverage by letting editors run a photo of him, almost totally nude, on page B2 of the Sunday paper.

Trent Seibert in the flesh, ladies and gentleman. No doubt about it, he's a reporter who'll do anything to get the story. But what if that includes making things up?

It's a question that new Tennessean editor E.J. Mitchell had to grapple with before making Seibert his first hire at 1100 Broadway. That's because during Seibert's almost five years at the Denver Post, a chunk of his reporting—much of which appeared on the major daily's front page—was cast into doubt or refuted outright by disgruntled subjects, including Colorado Gov. Bill Owens himself.

Take Seibert's March 2002 front-page assertion that Owens was "taking millions of dollars from the state's employee retirement program to help balance the budget." Not true. Recently back from Afghanistan, Seibert made some careless assumptions, charitably speaking, in his quest to get the big story. They were wrong, and "the cockiest motherfucker ever to saunter down Colorado," as one source puts it, found his article retracted and himself vilified in the local alternative press. The governor, for his part, immediately set the record straight. And Seibert looked like a chump.

It was only a month before the reporter graced the local alt-weekly's pages again. This time, he was being castigated for his report claiming that a state representative wanted to amend legislation to keep adulterers from being "outed" by automated radar-gun cameras. The lawmakers who discussed the idea with Seibert said they were just kidding around—on April Fools' Day, no less—but he stood by his story, publishing a second article that claimed the original legislator had dropped his amendment plan. Only three men (with conflicting stories), and maybe a ficus tree or two, know the real story.

Then there was the time two months later when Seibert misquoted Colorado treasurer Mike Coffman. Seibert's screw-up falsely implied that the treasurer had the power to set tax policy for the state. He doesn't, and the Post ran a correction.

Finally, there was the 2003 article in which Seibert claimed that "A group of powerhouse consultants has asked cash-strapped city and state agencies for a nearly 40 percent pay hike—bringing their payday to $5.56 million...." It may be an attention-grabbing lede, but critics claimed the scoop-chaser had again sexed up the story, blaming a consultant cabal when boring bureaucracy was really at fault. Seibert, however, stood by his article.

Don't get us wrong: Seibert has done some valuable work. He launched his career in New Jersey by thoroughly picking apart the state lottery. And he brought the same zealousness to his Colorado job: Denver Post editor Greg Moore calls him a "terrific person, a terrific journalist" and labels himself "a huge fan of Trent's." In Alabama, where in August Seibert took his first job editing other people's work, he's regarded as a capable manager but a reporter at heart. Every former colleague or boss we could find comes to his defense.

Which is perhaps why Seibert is E.J. Mitchell's first Tennesseanhire. He's aggressive and wants to shake things up—like Mitchell—and is trusted by Moore, a friend of Mitchell's. The new Tennessean editor says he's thoroughly vetted Seibert (who first interviewed for the job before Mitchell arrived) and is very satisfied with him. "The Westword didn't have all its facts correct," he says of the Colorado alt-weekly's critique, "just like the Nashville Scene didn't have all its facts correct about who would be the editor of this newspaper."

Ouch.

All we can do at this point is hope that Seibert's Tennessee statehouse reporting proves beyond reproach. Certainly his credibility is no worse than that of the half breeds and dim wits he'll be covering. In any case, hiring him was risk—and it's about time someone at 1100 Broadway took one of those.

Rage to tsunami victims: "Sucks to be you"

What happens when you take a glib, alcohol-themed featurette about using superficial understanding of the world around you to make yourself look smart at cocktail parties and combine it with a horrifying natural disaster of devastating proportions? Just ask Gannett's faux alt-weekly All the Rage, which last week decided the tsunami was appropriate fodder for its "Instant Expert" column.

According to The Tennessean's tabloid cousin for tweens-and-up, the "buzz" is that "a catastrophe darkens the holiday season." As far as "losers and winners" are concerned, the paper considers (but ultimately avoids) labeling as "losers" the hundreds of thousands of sick, dead or mourning. It does, however, confess, "It's tempting to feel smug about living on safer ground. Tempting—but wrong."

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