That was my view approximately one year ago today. For reasons still not clear to me, my super-double-cool boss tapped me to cover one of the NCAA tourney first-round pods, so I got to hang out courtside for six games over two days. While this wasn’t a welcome development for the site’s readers - I don’t pretend to be anything other than an NCAA hoops casualist - I sure dug seeing the game from that vantage point. Writing five columns over three days? Not so much.
I’m glad I wasn’t enlisted again this year, though. What struck me about the grizzled journos covering the games was that they were miserable SOBs. They seemed engaged and excited precisely two times during the four-day period: during Belmont’s near takedown of Duke (everybody crowded around the press-room monitors for that one; it got *loud*) and when the free lunch buffet opened its doors.
Me, I was giddy and overcaffeinated for 102 straight hours, repeatedly committing the journamalist faux pas of throwing back my head and unleashing an “ohhh!” at the moments when a fan would do just that. I mean, friggin’ A, it’s sports. Sports are fun. Sports are good. Every experience loses some luster with frequent repetition - the whole you-wouldn’t-love-pizza-so-much-if-you-ate-it-every-day thing - but don’t tell me that the lack of enthusiasm and energy doesn’t creep into your writing. It’s easy to tell which sportswriters are engaged and which ones aren’t.
So yeah, I like my job. Rant over. Also: Pitt over Memphis.
