Writer enters a novice, exits a professional
I’m not a man of self-praise. I remain humble when people tell me what a great writer I am. I take those comments to heart, but they don’t affect my style. I report truth, which has proven successful. Over the last four days, I have spoken with many people that do this for a living. I aspire to be like them. They hold my future jobs. They have been friendly, helpful, and encouraging. Up until day three, I was the youngest person in the building. Walking around downtown, I wore my media credential tag around my neck with pride. I fit right in. I spoke with people who are well-known in the media; people like Sports Illustrated’s Peter King and ESPN’s Michael Smith, all wishing me nothing but the best and offering helpful advice. I’ve learned about the young men who will don uniforms as millionaires this coming September. Day one made me nervous. On day two, I settled in. On day three, I dug in. I asked my first ever press conference question to Lovie Smith, regarding RB Matt Forte. Today, I’m a pro. I’ve stood and sat on the front lines, always grabbing a seat in front or standing next to the mic, taking notes. My reporting has become efficient. This has been an amazing experience. It has been something that I will never forget and can’t wait to repeat. The work has been tiresome. Sleep hasn’t come easily. The cold, sleety walks to Lucas Oil at 8 a.m. are taking their toll on my young feet (FYI: Global warming is a hoax. Period). Last Saturday, when the sleet was pecking against my face like a hundred needles, I caught myself asking if this was really worth it. Those who know me understand that I’m not a big fan of cold weather. The answer: Absolutely. I love this job. Furthermore, I love covering this game. It’s addictive. It’s my drug of choice. There’s nothing like it. I will do everything I can to achieve my dreams, even if it means getting a little cold.
