About a week ago, I had the privilege of covering the Creighton University Bluejays versus the South Dakota State University Jackrabbits in the first round of the Women’s National Invitation Tournament (WNIT). Writing about SDSU is something I am quite accustomed too. However, I was at the game to write about Creighton, not SDSU. That was quite odd. Covering a game involving SDSU not for The Collegian and not from an SDSU perspective would be strange anywhere, but in Brookings was especially peculiar.
Going back to the place where it all began as a professional reporter was nice. Walking into Frost Arena, seeing the surprise looks of people who were not expecting me and talking with staff and Collegian folk, as a professional, was a definite ego trip, which I probably didn’t need.
As fun as it was, it was also sort of uncomfortable. Maybe uncomfortable isn’t the right word. I’m not entirely sure what is. It was an awkward feeling. A feeling that I just didn’t quite belong. It was my home, my beginning, but it was different. It was akin to walking into my parents house for the first time after I moved to college. Or coming home after living in Europe for five months. I knew everything, everybody, yet everything had change. I changed.
I was not the same, bewildered sports editor that roamed the courtside a few years ago. I had left what had become a comfortable setting, a familiarity with the beat, an understanding of what was expected and what to do.
Instead, I was a young, burgeoning part-time sports reporter. I ventured to a new land, a new sports landscape, a higher level of expectations.
I returned (triumphantly) to Frost Arena unsure of what to expect, unsure of how I would be greeted, unsure of my place there.
After the initial “hellos” and “what are you doing heres,” I settled into my comfortable spot behind the scorer’s table, right next to Terry. Stu made his once a year trip to Frost to help Terry, and the Collegian boys were on the other side. The game started, and it was business as usual.
Not quite.
I was covering the other team. At halftime, as I was looking over my game notes, I realized that most of what I jotted down related to SDSU. Sure, SDSU had a halftime lead, but they did not dominate the first half. Almost everything that happened I looked at from a Jackrabbit perspective, not a Bluejays’. At least I realized that and was able to adjust after intermission. Of course, the Jays shooting 70 percent helped some too.
When the press conference was over and the story was typed, I felt good. I was sad the Jacks lost, but not too sad. Maybe it was because I was there covering the Jays. Maybe it was because I hadn’t seen a game all year. Or maybe it was because I was more concerned with typing a quality story than the actual outcome of the game. Whatever it was, when I left Brookings I felt at ease, with the game, the story and my experience.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
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3 comments:
Kimmes, you douchebag, you almost made me cry with this one (the prostitution one did too, haha). I'm very proud of you and how far you've come as a journalist (yes, you're one of us now) in the past couple of years. Love ya and don't forget us little people.
Someone sounds like a professional journalist :)
Makes me think about what it used to be like to shed tears.
The above comment was me, poorly.
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