Jones called out Whitlock in his blog on Monday, attacking his creditability as a writer and reporter:
“Sadly, among sportswriters especially, our most famous members are our loudest, not necessarily our best. Nobody knows Gary Smith to look at him. And so kids see a picture of Jason Whitlock with an Asian transvestite hooker on his lap in a club, and they think they have to be like Jason Whitlock to make it.
Well, here’s the stone-cold truth, kids: Jason Whitlock has no soul. He’s neither a good reporter nor a good writer. He’s a bloviator who’s somehow carved out a niche for himself as a kind of anti-establishment figure by making references to The Wire and pretending he’s the second coming of Ralph Wiley, when Ralph Wiley would be fucking mortified to be associated with Whitlock’s brand of self-serving buffoonery.
Ralph Wiley was provocative, but he was also a reporter. Ralph Wiley was a writer. Above all, Ralph Wiley was a journalist. That guy was a pro.
And that, for me, has always been the highest compliment one writer can bestow on another.
First off, a pro is necessarily getting paid to do what he does, and that’s a tough trick these days all on its own. But a pro is also defined by the scope and practice of his operation. A pro has sources. A pro knows how to spot a lie. A pro does the work. A pro gets it right. A pro knows how to hustle the corner, but he also knows his way around a paragraph. A pro does it all, and he does it all well, without vanity or fireworks. A pro doesn’t leave any holes or openings, in his soul most of all.”