Okay, so maybe I stole that line from Ryan Seacrest, but after four years of Bullet deadlines, my creative juices are in short supply.
Perhaps it’s a good thing this is my final issue as sports editor before I enter the big, bad adult world. God only knows what American Idol references I would have whipped out next semester.
Still, it’s hard to believe that when I walk/sprint out of the Bullet office after this issue is finished, I will never again spend my Wednesdays holed up in the mold and stain-infested office us editors call home.
There are certainly things I won’t miss. Like trying to track down coaches after an ugly loss or tossing and turning at night, wondering whether I spelled an athlete’s name correctly. And let’s not forget the mysterious smells that permeate the office or the computers and printers that freeze in a very Office Space, “What the f*@k is PC load letter?!” sort of way.
Ahhh, the memories.
But believe it or not, my time as Sports Editor will always hold a special place in my heart. A very time-consuming, thankless place, but a place nonetheless.
In all sincerity, I feel very lucky to have covered some amazing and unforgettable games in the past four years. I’ve seen everything from the women’s basketball team crush opponent after opponent and finally bring fans to a women’s game, to the baseball team once score eight or nine runs in the bottom of the 9th.
To all the coaches and athletes who were friendly and more than willing to give me an interview: thank you for all your help. To those who weren’t, well, I got the story done anyway.
I’ve never gotten paid for this job, I get one measly credit a semester and I’ve overslept one too many Thursday mornings. But I’ve been the Sports Editor for three years because I love it. I’m fiercely proud to have been a part of The Bullet, I’ve taken this job seriously, and I’ve had a hell of a good time along the way.
Paper jams and all, I’ll miss it.
So to everyone, thank you. I’m out.