T he best advice I have ever received about my column-writing was absurdly simple: Put a little honest piece of yourself into every column you write. Columns aren't like game stories, where all you have to do is look outward at the game stats, the player quotes, the field conditions to get your story. When you write a column, you're suddenly elevated from 15-letter byline to full-color mug shot. That's the kind of thing that gets you recognized in bars, in discussion, on the street, in the most awkward situations. And if you're going to be recognized, your column should answer the questions readers ask themselves: What does the person in this mug shot know about sports that I don't? What is she like? Funny? Opinionated? A Cubs fan?
Answering those questions in 90 lines once a week can be daunting. There were weeks I just couldn't manage it. (Witness the time I mentioned Al Groh in a "Kiss the Cook" apron, working on a "recipe for success" against the Hokies. Cringe.) Other weeks I picked up the paper and was proud to see my face there, eager to hear how people would react. Those are the pieces that I remember and would like to be remembered for best.
There were my first columns on women's basketball -- only with help from my colleague Paul Crane did I learn how to write a decent column, and together we learned the essential rules of covering women's basketball: a legendary coach does not guarantee a legendary team, The Cavalier Daily's dial-up connection never works and, when in doubt, hit the damn possum.
By the time the Sports section got color on its front page, I was ready to face the music from behind the columnist photo.
I admitted to being the type of worrywart who, at the beginning of the football season, pondered the idea of life without Schaub, and the scathing e-mails I got accusing me of jinxing him after his injury taught me my second-best lesson in column writing: People are reading, and they won't always like what you say.
Speaking of dislike, I hated on Maryland and Duke quite openly in my columns over the years, but don't expect me to stop drinking the Haterade. At least until fans in College Park stop throwing batteries onto the court, that is, or Kryszewski's teams stop making Virginia's postseason look like J.V. ball by comparison.
Several times I followed my heart into mini-crusades for women's sports and club sports. While The Cavalier Daily's coverage of women's sports has improved in my estimation over the years, the world of club sports at Virginia is heinously underpublicized. I spent one semester as a member of the women's rugby team and another covering the men's ice hockey team, and those two experiences were enough to convince me that club players almost as a rule make most of the sacrifices of a varsity athlete with a fraction of the recognition. As an editor, I also learned that no matter how far you extend your staff and your coverage, there will always be one team that feels they got the short shrift. I would love to see someone use the resources at the SAC to create a club sports newsletter or Web site to help the Virginia community see the grassroots side of its sports culture. Those kinds of tidbits, mixed with pieces of Virginia sports history, made me bleed, if possible, in even deeper shades of orange and blue.
Last but not least, the members of the Sports department who meant so much to me became part of my columns: Jon Evans and Matt Trogdon for their moral support and comic relief; Chip Knighton for helping me realize you can't please everyone all the time; Jed Williams for the sheer audacity to believe that my opinions deserve the front page; Chris Yeung for Sportswriting 101 and Life 102; Joe, J.D. and Kathleen for never letting me rest on my former-editor laurels; Chris Kelly for insanity-prevention lunches; and Sean and Melissa for giving me confidence in the Sports section's future. They say it's better to be lucky than good -- with Sports, luck has always been on my side.
Enough self-indulgence. Then again, in many ways, that's what column writing is all about.
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