The amount of trash talk, worried tweeters and shaken confidence coming from the Ole Miss camp less than two weeks before the matchup with Boise State is a microcosm of the current state of both programs.
The feeling emanating from Oxford, Miss., is a mix of weary enthusiasm and unsupported confidence. My favorite comment came via Twitter from @TheNotoriousJON: "@JRodrigues89 but this Boise State team isn't of the same caliber that beat Georgia back in the day. To big a game for a first year coach..." https://twitter.com/TheNotoriusJON/status/501008268375105536
We can't overlook this one, either: "@Rafter17 @JRodrigues89 pretty sure Harsin is not on the level of Peterson Boise's 10 minutes of fame is up..." https://twitter.com/TheNotoriusJON/status/501030644718534656
Now, we can't put too much emphasis on the thoughts of some random tweeter with 271 followers, I did a little bit of research.
Since the 2007 Fiesta Bowl, the game that catapulted Boise State into the national spotlight, the Broncos have gone 79-13, winning four bowl games, including the 2010 Fiesta Bowl over TCU. The Rebels have a record of 42-41 with four bowl wins as well, none of which were BCS Bowls.
Now before I hear any, "But we play in the ESS EE SEE PAWWWWWWWL! The best conference in the history of the world PAAAAAAAAAAWL!!!!" Comments, let's look at success another way.
Again, since 2007:
First-round draft picks-
Boise State: 4
Ole Miss: 3
Total NFL Draft picks-
Boise State: 13
Ole Miss: 13
How about that? As Kris (@lostriver76) put it: "Pretty sure BSU's "10mins" of fame are 9 1/2mins longer than any Ole Miss has had." https://twitter.com/lostriver76/status/501040945413255168
By no means am I guaranteeing a win over Ole Miss on August 28. In fact, I've said multiple times Boise State has a lot working against it and a victory would almost be a miracle. Clearly, however, Boise State is far from an afterthought for the Rebels. And any notion, talk or claim that Boise State's 10 minutes of fame" coming from an Ole Miss fan is laughable.
If nothing else, these stats show Boise State is on par or above the success rate of many SEC teams. Win or lose in Atlanta, the Broncos have made a name for themselves, regardless of what Ole Miss fans say.
Sunday, August 17, 2014
Thursday, August 7, 2014
The effects of "Power-5" autonomy on the FCS
For the record, I am 100 percent in support of the NCAA allowing conferences to vote for their own autonomy. This is the best thing that could happen to college football.
After all, the person who takes their ball and goes home in a fit of anger is my absolute favorite (like BYU. If the Pac-12 won't take us, we'll go play by ourselves). If you don't like the rules, why not change them? It's a win-win for everybody!
If you can't tell, I'm joking. This stuff has me more upset than when Friends ended.
I do not claim to be any sort of expert on the business side of college athletics, but my experience as a beat writer for an FCS football team does give me some insight. Let's explore.
If your team plays in one of the "less fortunate" conferences, I'm sorry to say this: At this point, you have to be wondering if your players will even have scholarships available much longer. Without the revenue sharing from bigger conferences, each school is left to fend for themselves. Of course, their conferences will jump to the aid. But, and excuse this comparison, but a bum doesn't have much financial backing to help support a hobo.
I covered the Idaho State football team for three seasons. This "Power 5" autonomy vote even affects the FCS level. Schools in the Big Sky, as well as other FCS teams, play one or two "body bag" games a season. They earn hefty sums of money that is used to fund their entire athletic department. With the autonomy given to power FBS schools, the likelihood of these money games continuing is very, very small.
When it comes down to it, however, FCS schools are in a better position than FBS programs in non-Big 5 conferences. Sure, there will be long-term effects, but that level of football is secure. Big Sky commissioner Doug Fullerton said so on numerous occasions during meetings and press conferences I attended.
In fact, remember back in 2010 when Montana (and Montana State, as a necessity of maintaining a rivalry) considered jumping to the FBS level and joining the WAC? The Grizzlies said no and continue to be an FCS playoff stalwart.
Think about this: To date, the only football programs to move from Division 1AA (now FCS) to Division 1A (now FBS) and have success are Boise State and to a lesser degree Nevada. That's it. The rest have done nothing note-worthy, including Idaho.
Getting back on track, Montana's decision to stay put was incredibly smart. It will be even harder to succeed at the FBS level without membership in a "Power-5" conference.
Will the non-power conferences return to an FCS-type of membership? Will they accept the change or fight back to be included? Will conferences support their teams or will it be a fend-for-yourself deal?
Regarding Boise State, the Broncos have the national notoriety, money and ability to stay close to on par with the "Power-5." Who knows how long they can keep it up or if an invite to join the "elite" will ever come.
Seriously consider this: Would it be the worst thing in the world to accept defeat (if it comes to that) and join a stable conference, albeit at a lower, less money-driven level? Seriously. Consider the options.
After all, the person who takes their ball and goes home in a fit of anger is my absolute favorite (like BYU. If the Pac-12 won't take us, we'll go play by ourselves). If you don't like the rules, why not change them? It's a win-win for everybody!
If you can't tell, I'm joking. This stuff has me more upset than when Friends ended.
I do not claim to be any sort of expert on the business side of college athletics, but my experience as a beat writer for an FCS football team does give me some insight. Let's explore.
If your team plays in one of the "less fortunate" conferences, I'm sorry to say this: At this point, you have to be wondering if your players will even have scholarships available much longer. Without the revenue sharing from bigger conferences, each school is left to fend for themselves. Of course, their conferences will jump to the aid. But, and excuse this comparison, but a bum doesn't have much financial backing to help support a hobo.
I covered the Idaho State football team for three seasons. This "Power 5" autonomy vote even affects the FCS level. Schools in the Big Sky, as well as other FCS teams, play one or two "body bag" games a season. They earn hefty sums of money that is used to fund their entire athletic department. With the autonomy given to power FBS schools, the likelihood of these money games continuing is very, very small.
When it comes down to it, however, FCS schools are in a better position than FBS programs in non-Big 5 conferences. Sure, there will be long-term effects, but that level of football is secure. Big Sky commissioner Doug Fullerton said so on numerous occasions during meetings and press conferences I attended.
In fact, remember back in 2010 when Montana (and Montana State, as a necessity of maintaining a rivalry) considered jumping to the FBS level and joining the WAC? The Grizzlies said no and continue to be an FCS playoff stalwart.
Think about this: To date, the only football programs to move from Division 1AA (now FCS) to Division 1A (now FBS) and have success are Boise State and to a lesser degree Nevada. That's it. The rest have done nothing note-worthy, including Idaho.
Getting back on track, Montana's decision to stay put was incredibly smart. It will be even harder to succeed at the FBS level without membership in a "Power-5" conference.
Will the non-power conferences return to an FCS-type of membership? Will they accept the change or fight back to be included? Will conferences support their teams or will it be a fend-for-yourself deal?
Regarding Boise State, the Broncos have the national notoriety, money and ability to stay close to on par with the "Power-5." Who knows how long they can keep it up or if an invite to join the "elite" will ever come.
Seriously consider this: Would it be the worst thing in the world to accept defeat (if it comes to that) and join a stable conference, albeit at a lower, less money-driven level? Seriously. Consider the options.
Friday, July 18, 2014
Perspective is like a Sour Patch kid; sour and sweet
With just 41 days left until Boise State takes the Harsin show on the road and faces Ole' Miss. in the Peach State, I can't help but look back at what we experienced during the 2013 college football season.
There were moments of glory (winning at Utah State), but there were plenty of cringe-worthy and agonizing horrors (San Diego State, BYU -- the worst one, in my opinion). The Broncos finished with a disappointing 8-5 record, the season culminating with a loss to Oregon State in the Hawaii Bowl. Oh, and our head coach left. There's that, too.
Let's not forget our starting quarterback jacked up his ankle on the first play of the game against the Wolfpack of Nevada and then he (allegedly) urinated off a balcony in Hawaii and was sent home.
Yeah. I'd take a mulligan on a lot of those moments if I could.
As painful as it was to go through all that, and watch Chris Petersen sneak his way out of town for purple-er (not a word, I know) pastures, it could have been worse. Let us embrace the motto that our blue and orange-clad savior Bryan Harsin has supplied and forget about last season. It's time to attack the future. Seriously. Let's maul, maim, harm, injure, upend, tackle, mangle and otherwise pee on (too early?) the future.
But first, let's take a step back and gain some healthy and important perspective.
After the pineapple-scented dust had settled (in Hawaii, after all), Boise State was 8-5. Looking at the season from a somewhat historical view, take this into account:
- The last time the Broncos lost won eight or less games was in 2001 (8-4)
- There were 17 teams at the FBS level with eight wins in 2013.
- 33 teams had nine wins or more
- 68 teams had seven wins or less
- Idaho has not won eight games in a season since 1998 (finished 9-3)
-Furthermore, the Vandals have had just 12 seasons of eight or more wins since 1954, and that's only because they played seven-game seasons before that
So, relax Bronco Nation. The sky is not falling. Far from it, actually. Time will tell whether or not Harsin can continue the winning tradition at Boise State, and the pieces are there to make it happen.
There were moments of glory (winning at Utah State), but there were plenty of cringe-worthy and agonizing horrors (San Diego State, BYU -- the worst one, in my opinion). The Broncos finished with a disappointing 8-5 record, the season culminating with a loss to Oregon State in the Hawaii Bowl. Oh, and our head coach left. There's that, too.
Let's not forget our starting quarterback jacked up his ankle on the first play of the game against the Wolfpack of Nevada and then he (allegedly) urinated off a balcony in Hawaii and was sent home.
Yeah. I'd take a mulligan on a lot of those moments if I could.
As painful as it was to go through all that, and watch Chris Petersen sneak his way out of town for purple-er (not a word, I know) pastures, it could have been worse. Let us embrace the motto that our blue and orange-clad savior Bryan Harsin has supplied and forget about last season. It's time to attack the future. Seriously. Let's maul, maim, harm, injure, upend, tackle, mangle and otherwise pee on (too early?) the future.
But first, let's take a step back and gain some healthy and important perspective.
After the pineapple-scented dust had settled (in Hawaii, after all), Boise State was 8-5. Looking at the season from a somewhat historical view, take this into account:
- The last time the Broncos lost won eight or less games was in 2001 (8-4)
- There were 17 teams at the FBS level with eight wins in 2013.
- 33 teams had nine wins or more
- 68 teams had seven wins or less
- Idaho has not won eight games in a season since 1998 (finished 9-3)
-Furthermore, the Vandals have had just 12 seasons of eight or more wins since 1954, and that's only because they played seven-game seasons before that
So, relax Bronco Nation. The sky is not falling. Far from it, actually. Time will tell whether or not Harsin can continue the winning tradition at Boise State, and the pieces are there to make it happen.
Wednesday, July 9, 2014
I added an Urban Dictionary definition of the term "University of Idaho"
Read it straight from the website here. (There was already a really good one posted). Mine is still being reviewed before it will be posted, but I went ahead and pasted it here for your pleasure. Enjoy!
University of Idaho
Forever the little brother of its fellow school on The Palouse and its in-state "rival" down south, the University of Idaho is used to playing second fiddle. So it comes as no surprise that after being passed by that same in-state college in every academic and athletic spectrum, the butt-hurt pouring from the University of Idaho is at an all-time high.
Despite its self-appointed title as "the Harvard of the West," there are zero nationally-ranked graduate programs or nationally-prominent faculty members to be found. Better known for its rampant drinking and alcoholism among its student population, the University of Idaho is more a waste of mommy and daddy's money that it is an actual establishment of higher learning.
The school's location, Moscow, Idaho, is a cold, bitter wasteland where only Neo-Nazi skinheads and right-wing nut jobs are comfortable and welcome (Larry Craig, Sarah Palin are graduates). The only bright spot is leaving.
The University of Idaho football team is only competitive against Division II programs, making its losses to them that much more humiliating. Then again, the school is used to that feeling as it plays in an over-sized bathroom stall known as the Kibbie Dome. Not only is losing as natural as breathing to the Vandals, the football team also gets banned from postseason play (not that they would ever qualify anyway) due to poor academic progress reports. To rub salt in the wound, its in-state rival is ranked in the top 3 nationally for average GPA among its football team.
Despite the Vandals' pathetic attempts to remain athletically relevant, its in-state rival has surpassed it by light years. Instead of admitting the ship has sailed, the University of Idaho leadership persists on "saving face" and whores out its football program for money games and, most recently, the Sun Belt Conference.
Example:
"I used to love Cher, but she's pulling a University of Idaho and just needs to call it quits."
"My friend has everything. I'm so jealous of him, call me University of Idaho."
University of Idaho
Forever the little brother of its fellow school on The Palouse and its in-state "rival" down south, the University of Idaho is used to playing second fiddle. So it comes as no surprise that after being passed by that same in-state college in every academic and athletic spectrum, the butt-hurt pouring from the University of Idaho is at an all-time high.
Despite its self-appointed title as "the Harvard of the West," there are zero nationally-ranked graduate programs or nationally-prominent faculty members to be found. Better known for its rampant drinking and alcoholism among its student population, the University of Idaho is more a waste of mommy and daddy's money that it is an actual establishment of higher learning.
The school's location, Moscow, Idaho, is a cold, bitter wasteland where only Neo-Nazi skinheads and right-wing nut jobs are comfortable and welcome (Larry Craig, Sarah Palin are graduates). The only bright spot is leaving.
The University of Idaho football team is only competitive against Division II programs, making its losses to them that much more humiliating. Then again, the school is used to that feeling as it plays in an over-sized bathroom stall known as the Kibbie Dome. Not only is losing as natural as breathing to the Vandals, the football team also gets banned from postseason play (not that they would ever qualify anyway) due to poor academic progress reports. To rub salt in the wound, its in-state rival is ranked in the top 3 nationally for average GPA among its football team.
Despite the Vandals' pathetic attempts to remain athletically relevant, its in-state rival has surpassed it by light years. Instead of admitting the ship has sailed, the University of Idaho leadership persists on "saving face" and whores out its football program for money games and, most recently, the Sun Belt Conference.
Example:
"I used to love Cher, but she's pulling a University of Idaho and just needs to call it quits."
"My friend has everything. I'm so jealous of him, call me University of Idaho."
Thursday, July 3, 2014
Dog days of summer got you down? Make sure to keep things Blue
We are smack-dab in the middle of the dog days of summer. I hate it.
Actually, the World Cup has distracted me from the football-less (that's American football, mind you) doldrums of my least favorite time of year. Under normal circumstances, only my Fiesta Bowl DVD collection could get me through it.
Some people have season depression where the cold, dark winter forces them into a sad shell. I'm the opposite. Summer makes me mad because I prefer the cold, and there's no football. Zero. Zip Zilch. None in sight.
I'd rather slit my wrists and do push-ups in salt water than watch baseball.
But, like any good die-hards, I rely on my fellow members of Bronco Nation to keep me and well. This offseason has been the most eventful and exciting in recent memory. Bryan Harsin has injected new life into what had become a complacent fan base. Every time a, "Go Broncos!" tweet from him shows up on my Twitter timeline, the adrenaline starts pumping and the anticipation is high.
It is my sincere hope that this excitement continues into the fall and is amplified on The Blue by a group of pissed off Broncos, upset at how last year unfolded.
So it is desired, so it shall be.
At least I hope so. See, that's the great part about being a fan. The optimism reigns in full force, regardless of how unfounded it is. It's what gives Dallas Cowboys fans undying hope of success as Tony Romo continues to do what Tony Romo does. It's what allows Idaho State Bengal fans to show up at Holt Arena every Saturday, waving their flags in the air and expecting a victory from their team. It may not happen, but the eternal flame of optimism continues to burn, even at the darkest times.
As Boise State embarks on a new era of football -- and we as fans go along with it -- there is more hope than ever before. Images of Jay Ajayi mowing down defenders then cart-wheeling his way past another toward the end zone occupy my mind as I wait for Aug. 28 to roll around.
Then I see incoming recruits like offensive lineman Troy Bacon full embracing what it means to be a Boise State Bronco (check out his Twitter timeline to find out what I'm talking about). There is so much more to The Blue than just great football. This has me excited about the future. This fuels my fire of optimism as much as what will take place on the gridiron.
Let's keep it going, Bronco Nation. We need each other as much as we need football. Can the season start now, please?
Actually, the World Cup has distracted me from the football-less (that's American football, mind you) doldrums of my least favorite time of year. Under normal circumstances, only my Fiesta Bowl DVD collection could get me through it.
Some people have season depression where the cold, dark winter forces them into a sad shell. I'm the opposite. Summer makes me mad because I prefer the cold, and there's no football. Zero. Zip Zilch. None in sight.
I'd rather slit my wrists and do push-ups in salt water than watch baseball.
But, like any good die-hards, I rely on my fellow members of Bronco Nation to keep me and well. This offseason has been the most eventful and exciting in recent memory. Bryan Harsin has injected new life into what had become a complacent fan base. Every time a, "Go Broncos!" tweet from him shows up on my Twitter timeline, the adrenaline starts pumping and the anticipation is high.
It is my sincere hope that this excitement continues into the fall and is amplified on The Blue by a group of pissed off Broncos, upset at how last year unfolded.
So it is desired, so it shall be.
At least I hope so. See, that's the great part about being a fan. The optimism reigns in full force, regardless of how unfounded it is. It's what gives Dallas Cowboys fans undying hope of success as Tony Romo continues to do what Tony Romo does. It's what allows Idaho State Bengal fans to show up at Holt Arena every Saturday, waving their flags in the air and expecting a victory from their team. It may not happen, but the eternal flame of optimism continues to burn, even at the darkest times.
As Boise State embarks on a new era of football -- and we as fans go along with it -- there is more hope than ever before. Images of Jay Ajayi mowing down defenders then cart-wheeling his way past another toward the end zone occupy my mind as I wait for Aug. 28 to roll around.
Then I see incoming recruits like offensive lineman Troy Bacon full embracing what it means to be a Boise State Bronco (check out his Twitter timeline to find out what I'm talking about). There is so much more to The Blue than just great football. This has me excited about the future. This fuels my fire of optimism as much as what will take place on the gridiron.
Let's keep it going, Bronco Nation. We need each other as much as we need football. Can the season start now, please?
Saturday, June 14, 2014
My own World (Cup)
There are few, if any, better husbands in existence than yours truly. Why you may ask? Simple.
Four years ago this month my wife and I were on the verge of welcoming our first child into this world. Our son, Sawyer, was born at 11:14 p.m. on June 29, 2010. We checked into the hospital early that morning to begin the process of inducing Meagan.
Being the outstanding spouse that I am, I forced my wife to watch the knockout stage games of the World Cup in South Africa that were taking place that day while she was in labor.
Hey, you can't blame me. It only happens every four years! She understood...
All jokes aside, the month of June every fourth year truly is a special time for me. The memories that come flooding back are sometimes overwhelming and emotional, and I don't want to forget them.
The first morning home from the hospital, Sawyer being just 2 days old at the time, I was up nice and early, snuggling my little bundle of joy on the couch as we watched the World Cup. The event transformed into more than just sports for me. At that moment it became something I would always have with him.
As the World Cup in Brazil kicked off Thursday, I grabbed Sawyer, sat down on the couch and shared a quick snuggle with my now 4-year-old wiggly and energetic boy. He may not understand what those few seconds meant to me -- or what this soccer event signifies -- but I sure did.
My love for soccer began in 2006 while I was serving a Spanish-speaking LDS mission in San Bernardino, Calif. The excitement and emotion from the mainly Mexican people I served with was contagious. I caught on to the nuances and pageantry of the game as I watched match after match and saw Italy win the whole thing, beating France in penalties.
Fast forward four years and I was finally able to share my love for the greatest sporting event in the world, first with my wife and then with my newborn son.
Now in our second World Cup as a family, I love the significance it has for us. Well, at least for me and the wonderful feelings and thoughts it brings back. I can't help but smile.
(Note: I picked Argentina to win the World Cup, beating Germany in the final. Feel free to harass me when my prediction inevitably goes wrong.)
Four years ago this month my wife and I were on the verge of welcoming our first child into this world. Our son, Sawyer, was born at 11:14 p.m. on June 29, 2010. We checked into the hospital early that morning to begin the process of inducing Meagan.
Being the outstanding spouse that I am, I forced my wife to watch the knockout stage games of the World Cup in South Africa that were taking place that day while she was in labor.
Hey, you can't blame me. It only happens every four years! She understood...
All jokes aside, the month of June every fourth year truly is a special time for me. The memories that come flooding back are sometimes overwhelming and emotional, and I don't want to forget them.
The first morning home from the hospital, Sawyer being just 2 days old at the time, I was up nice and early, snuggling my little bundle of joy on the couch as we watched the World Cup. The event transformed into more than just sports for me. At that moment it became something I would always have with him.
As the World Cup in Brazil kicked off Thursday, I grabbed Sawyer, sat down on the couch and shared a quick snuggle with my now 4-year-old wiggly and energetic boy. He may not understand what those few seconds meant to me -- or what this soccer event signifies -- but I sure did.
My love for soccer began in 2006 while I was serving a Spanish-speaking LDS mission in San Bernardino, Calif. The excitement and emotion from the mainly Mexican people I served with was contagious. I caught on to the nuances and pageantry of the game as I watched match after match and saw Italy win the whole thing, beating France in penalties.
Fast forward four years and I was finally able to share my love for the greatest sporting event in the world, first with my wife and then with my newborn son.
Now in our second World Cup as a family, I love the significance it has for us. Well, at least for me and the wonderful feelings and thoughts it brings back. I can't help but smile.
(Note: I picked Argentina to win the World Cup, beating Germany in the final. Feel free to harass me when my prediction inevitably goes wrong.)
Wednesday, June 11, 2014
My story: The life and times of a former small-town sports journalist
Stepping out of my car, I quickly tightened my maroon and blue-striped tie up against my neck to the point if almost choking myself, made sure my shirt was tucked in evenly and advanced toward the door.
The brisk, January eastern Idaho wind made me shiver. I looked up and saw Jay Heater for the first time, a man who would become my boss in a matter of weeks.
"Go ahead and leave the tie in the car," Jay said, half joking. "We're pretty casual around here."
That anecdote was my first encounter with the newspaper business. I met Jay Heater in January of 2011. He, then the sports editor for the Idaho State Journal, was looking for a full-time desk person who would have opportunities to write as needed. I applied and Jay contacted me and wanted to do an interview.
I made the drive from Wendell, Idaho, to frigid Pocatello that day in January, with my wife and 8-month-old son in tow. Jay's first comments to me were just what I wanted to hear. What's better than a job that lets you wear shorts and a T-shirt everyday? Oh, and watching sports while doing it?
It wasn't as much of an interview with Jay as it was us discussing the logistics of when I would start and what was expected of me. I was eager to get to work.
I had grandiose plans of taking the world by storm, starting with Pocatello. I wanted to be wined and dined in press boxes and watch football. What I had in mind was taking over Stewart Mandel's job at Sports Illustrated someday. My goals were lofty.
When I finally started at the Journal on February 8, 2011, I was sent out to cover a high school boys basketball game. My "limited writing opportunities" turned into almost daily game coverage and writing.
I was a sports journalist. My dream was coming true.
My first opinion piece was about the Boise State football team getting screwed over by the NCAA because of "Couchgate." I found out later that mentioning the Broncos in Idaho State Bengal territory was a no-no; a jealousy-filled no-no, but a no-no nonetheless.
Six months later -- me being pretty green still -- Jay left for a job in California. I found myself in a great, albeit inexperienced position to take over. I had worked hard to learn the computer system and graphic design program as well as how to be a journalist.
I was ready.
In a matter of days I was named interim sports editor and a few months later the interim tag was removed. I was in hog heaven. Could this really be happening to me? I was eager to dig in.
Reality then set in. My work load doubled and I had to deal with angry readers and the business side of the business. It didn't help that we were down a person for almost a year before we could get a permanent solution on board.
I faced a very steep learning curve, but I adjusted and began to feel better in my new skin many months later.
That casual, wear-shorts-and-T-shirts feeling was gone. It was a grind. I embraced it and pushed forward. I loved a lot of what I did, but that grind wears on you. There's no way to avoid it. Some people manage it differently than others.
Fast forward a couple of years and I am no longer working for a newspaper. But, it was as much my choice as it was that of the business.
Here's why: My family.
You see, we added another child to the fold in October of 2012 and I wanted nothing more than to spend every waking second with my beautiful wife and two incredible, loving kids.
But that cut into my career, a profession that expects more than 40 hours a week. Try 50 or 60 during slow season. Oh, and you generally don't get paid for that extra time.
I tried to find a balance. It was difficult. Every time I would leave the house I could hear my kids crying and yelling, "Daddy!" Try going through that on Christmas Day. Yeah, it sucks.
And I kept having to leave earlier and earlier in the day and staying later and later into the night. A journalist is always on the clock. Your schedule is not set. It's constantly fluctuating and growing. It's like drinking from a hose that's on full blast.
The truth is I loved my daily interactions with the people I got to meet. I loved crafting game stories into living, breathing works of word art. I loved telling people's stories. I loved taking the ISU football beat and making it my own. I loved getting my hands dirty and pissing people off in order to write and create investigative pieces. I won awards for my writing. I was good at it.
But I hated the bureaucratic, red tape-laced politics of navigating a newsroom, especially under a boss looking to save his own butt at the expense of others. But, most of all, I hated not seeing my family. Fifteen-hour Saturdays will do that to you.
The truth is I eventually began sacrificing time at work to be with my family. I made a choice. I had seen too many people lose their families because journalism became their life. It wasn't going to happen to me.
And in the end, it cost me my job. A younger, hungrier person who was willing to work those extra, money-less hours took over.
The truth is I hung on too long. My wife and I wanted to make a change, but we weren't sure where to go or how to get out. The fun-loving days of working with Jay Heater were gone.
The truth is the newspaper business chewed me up and spit me back out. It wasn't for me. My family is for me. That is what's important.
Maybe I wasn't cut out for the newspaper business. On the other hand, maybe the newspaper business wasn't cut out for me.
Fortunately I was able to find a writing gig on the side thanks to
Kevin Hiatt at BroncoCountry.com. It's the fun part of being a sports journalist with none of the politics. It's the shorts-and-T-shirt portion.
I made a choice: My wife and kids mean more to me than reaching a Sports Illustrated-level goal. It might not be as glamorous, but it's certainly more fulfilling.
So there's the truth. My life is a product of the choices I make and the people I choose to be around. My quality of life depends on what I deem as the most crucial parts of it.
And, right now, life is good.
The brisk, January eastern Idaho wind made me shiver. I looked up and saw Jay Heater for the first time, a man who would become my boss in a matter of weeks.
"Go ahead and leave the tie in the car," Jay said, half joking. "We're pretty casual around here."
That anecdote was my first encounter with the newspaper business. I met Jay Heater in January of 2011. He, then the sports editor for the Idaho State Journal, was looking for a full-time desk person who would have opportunities to write as needed. I applied and Jay contacted me and wanted to do an interview.
I made the drive from Wendell, Idaho, to frigid Pocatello that day in January, with my wife and 8-month-old son in tow. Jay's first comments to me were just what I wanted to hear. What's better than a job that lets you wear shorts and a T-shirt everyday? Oh, and watching sports while doing it?
It wasn't as much of an interview with Jay as it was us discussing the logistics of when I would start and what was expected of me. I was eager to get to work.
I had grandiose plans of taking the world by storm, starting with Pocatello. I wanted to be wined and dined in press boxes and watch football. What I had in mind was taking over Stewart Mandel's job at Sports Illustrated someday. My goals were lofty.
When I finally started at the Journal on February 8, 2011, I was sent out to cover a high school boys basketball game. My "limited writing opportunities" turned into almost daily game coverage and writing.
I was a sports journalist. My dream was coming true.
My first opinion piece was about the Boise State football team getting screwed over by the NCAA because of "Couchgate." I found out later that mentioning the Broncos in Idaho State Bengal territory was a no-no; a jealousy-filled no-no, but a no-no nonetheless.
Six months later -- me being pretty green still -- Jay left for a job in California. I found myself in a great, albeit inexperienced position to take over. I had worked hard to learn the computer system and graphic design program as well as how to be a journalist.
I was ready.
In a matter of days I was named interim sports editor and a few months later the interim tag was removed. I was in hog heaven. Could this really be happening to me? I was eager to dig in.
Reality then set in. My work load doubled and I had to deal with angry readers and the business side of the business. It didn't help that we were down a person for almost a year before we could get a permanent solution on board.
I faced a very steep learning curve, but I adjusted and began to feel better in my new skin many months later.
That casual, wear-shorts-and-T-shirts feeling was gone. It was a grind. I embraced it and pushed forward. I loved a lot of what I did, but that grind wears on you. There's no way to avoid it. Some people manage it differently than others.
Fast forward a couple of years and I am no longer working for a newspaper. But, it was as much my choice as it was that of the business.
Here's why: My family.
You see, we added another child to the fold in October of 2012 and I wanted nothing more than to spend every waking second with my beautiful wife and two incredible, loving kids.
But that cut into my career, a profession that expects more than 40 hours a week. Try 50 or 60 during slow season. Oh, and you generally don't get paid for that extra time.
I tried to find a balance. It was difficult. Every time I would leave the house I could hear my kids crying and yelling, "Daddy!" Try going through that on Christmas Day. Yeah, it sucks.
And I kept having to leave earlier and earlier in the day and staying later and later into the night. A journalist is always on the clock. Your schedule is not set. It's constantly fluctuating and growing. It's like drinking from a hose that's on full blast.
The truth is I loved my daily interactions with the people I got to meet. I loved crafting game stories into living, breathing works of word art. I loved telling people's stories. I loved taking the ISU football beat and making it my own. I loved getting my hands dirty and pissing people off in order to write and create investigative pieces. I won awards for my writing. I was good at it.
But I hated the bureaucratic, red tape-laced politics of navigating a newsroom, especially under a boss looking to save his own butt at the expense of others. But, most of all, I hated not seeing my family. Fifteen-hour Saturdays will do that to you.
The truth is I eventually began sacrificing time at work to be with my family. I made a choice. I had seen too many people lose their families because journalism became their life. It wasn't going to happen to me.
And in the end, it cost me my job. A younger, hungrier person who was willing to work those extra, money-less hours took over.
The truth is I hung on too long. My wife and I wanted to make a change, but we weren't sure where to go or how to get out. The fun-loving days of working with Jay Heater were gone.
The truth is the newspaper business chewed me up and spit me back out. It wasn't for me. My family is for me. That is what's important.
Maybe I wasn't cut out for the newspaper business. On the other hand, maybe the newspaper business wasn't cut out for me.
Fortunately I was able to find a writing gig on the side thanks to
Kevin Hiatt at BroncoCountry.com. It's the fun part of being a sports journalist with none of the politics. It's the shorts-and-T-shirt portion.
I made a choice: My wife and kids mean more to me than reaching a Sports Illustrated-level goal. It might not be as glamorous, but it's certainly more fulfilling.
So there's the truth. My life is a product of the choices I make and the people I choose to be around. My quality of life depends on what I deem as the most crucial parts of it.
And, right now, life is good.
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