I've spent the past four years asking athletes and coaches what they've learned. The answers have ranged from the mind-numbingly boring to the incredibly fascinating. And that's why, after writing 95 columns and articles for The Cavalier Daily, I'd like to tell you what I've learned. Mind-numbingly boring? Possibly. Incredibly fascinating? Doubtful. Much easier than writing a final column that requires actual research? You bet.
I've learned that you get used to watching people step on your face once a week. And the picture never looks like you.
I've learned that no matter how many times you check it and double check it, your tape recorder will break during an interview. And it will be the most interesting, quotable and life-changing interview you've ever done.
I've learned that professionalism is overrated. The night of Oct. 15, 2005, I had stupidly agreed to cover the football team's game against then-No. 4 Florida State from the press box instead of watching it in the student section with my friends. After Tony Franklin's interception sealed the upset of the century, I ran from the box onto the field screaming my head off with the rest of the student body while the emotionless zombies on press row glared at me in disgust. That was the last football game I ever covered.
I've learned that it is possible for an All-American athlete to party like a maniac until the wee hours of the morning, then get up and perform brilliantly in front of thousands of screaming fans. By contrast, it is not possible for me to get up under those conditions and brush my own teeth.
I've learned that it is not a good idea to greet Pete Gillen with a loud, "Hey coach!" on the day he is fired as coach of the men's basketball team. It is also not a good idea to do this in the locker room at the AFC.
I've learned that athletes have a pretty sweet deal at U.Va. I've seen the hot tub in the basketball locker room. I've seen the color-coordinated weight machines in the athletes-only training center that makes Mem Gym look like a yoga studio. And I've eaten the medium-rare steak and potatoes served at the John Paul Jones Arena dining hall (extra points go to a friend who, when asked by a suspicious dining hall employee if he had an athletic meal plan, replied "almost").
I've learned that the best column ideas come to you in the shower.
I've learned that it is possible to get inside the heads of opposing players. When I took my friend Dan to his first Virginia lacrosse game against Johns Hopkins, he discovered the Hopkins goalie was named Jesse Schwartzman (at the time one of the best goalies in the nation). He then went on to discuss at length, and at full volume, Schwartzman's goal-tending ability, his personal hygiene, his mental stability and the pros and cons of dating Mrs. Schwartzman. After several minutes of this, Schwartzman turned to the crowd, threw up his hands in frustration and proceeded to let in 12 goals.
I've learned that the most unlikely people will surprise you. There is no better example than President Casteen, who, 30 minutes after I had sent him an e-mail asking about his athletic peak, replied with a long statement on the many joys of a four-day walk, complete with a description of the pain in his calves and the effects of endorphins.
I've learned that there is always another story out there. If I had one more column to go, I would write about fourth-year Tyler Spencer who just spent a week in Lake Placid, N.Y., training with the U.S. skeleton team. Arriving at the facility with no prior experience and very little training, he was shooting down the track at 75 mph by the end of the week