When I came to UCSD a bright-eyed freshman four years ago, I
knew nothing of what I was about to go through or who I was to become, but I
knew I wanted to cover sports for the Guardian. While I was confident that
sports journalism was my passion, I had no idea that the work I did for the
sports section and the people I worked with over the years would shape my
college experience more than the classes ever could.
As I prepare to enter the real world and become an “adult” —
whatever that’s supposed to mean today — I feel prepared because of the
lessons, social and professional, that I’ve learned from my time at the
official campus newspaper.
I became sports editor at the start of my sophomore year,
taking over for a graduating senior named Matt Grant. He taught me how to do
this job well while also finding time to enjoy the perks that come with it
(i.e. me and my associate sports editor/No. 1 mope homie Danai going to see
Tiger Woods at the U.S. Open after finals with press passes). In my
predecessor’s honor, as was Guardian senior sendoff tradition in years before,
I will leave my pseudo-final will and testament.
To Charles-in-Charge — As Lil’
says, ‘NO HOMO,’ but you’re the Dre to my Snoop, the Manny to my Tony, the
Sonny to my Michael (I know you ran shit around here, but I’m honoring Michael
with my photo so you have to be Sonny). I leave my game-worn, tattered
sloshball wife beater from the championship. You know how important that is to
me and you deserve it after your heroic showing in the sloshball tournament. We
are the OGs here and we should be proud of what we accomplished.
To Danai — Like you said, it’s only just the beginning but I
still leave my burned Wire DVDs and the promise that some day soon we will
merge our handsome entrepreneur powers for profit once again. I can’t wait to
eat free food with you at the Open and enjoy a summer back home in the City.
To Matt — I leave a promise for a truce on your mom jokes
for life.
To Hadley — I leave (not really) Puff the bearded dragon.
To Reza — I leave my office TV, which was never really mine,
to watch as many Giants and Warriors games as you can, plus the ID I already
gave you.
To Kim — I leave my bottles of 420 cleanser, so that Harold
and whatever other office pieces are in the rotation can hit right.
To Jesse — I leave the sloshball captainmanager duties now
that I’m hanging up my cleats. Now that we’ve won a title, I expect you to
start a dynasty because you’ve got the skills.
To Joe — I leave my dust to eat in the keeper league.
To Alyssa — I leave the understanding that Focus can never
be as cool as Sports because it’s once a week and not on one of the covers.
To Richard — I leave Tiger Woods PGA Tour 2008 so you can
practice and maybe beat me one day.
To Erik — Thanks for taking my sendoff photo and the most
amazing shots the sports section has ever ran.
To every copy editor/reader and designer since I’ve been
editor — I’m sorry my shit’s late but I’m just not a morning person. I leave
you the promise that the newbies will be better.
To Neil and Janani and eventually Jake — I leave you the
opportunity to improve the section and also take advantage of the press passes
and the unique work environment.
To my staff over the years — I leave knowing that my job
would’ve been impossible without you all.
To anyone I forgot — I’m sorry but I’m pressed for time,
spacey and word counts are a bitch but I love you all.
I’m out. Barry Bonds rules. GO GIANTS! BEAT
