Jason... from Georgia.

Had an interesting encounter at the gym today.

One of the things that I really took away from my travel across the country was the idea that things are so very different, yet the same. The entire time driving and stopping across various locations, I could never quite put my finger on what seemed different to me. I couldn't tell if it was the idea of being a large distance away from home, or if it was the nature of the surrounding area... but something always felt different to me. It didn't feel wrong, and I was never uncomfortable, but the entire time I was always slightly out of my element.

I think a large part of that was the fact that I kept expecting to see something so radically different from what I was used to that it would change my life forever. And really, I never saw anything life-changing. I saw many historical landmarks and icons - (Sears Tower, St Louis Arch, Rockies, Vegas) - but what most intrigued me was the character of people that I met across the way.

Many of the people I met were radically different in political or social views, yet I was constantly aware of the idea that we were all American. And almost all of those people were enormously jealous that I was getting the chance to travel across the country. The majority of people I spoke with in Ohio had never been as far as Los Angeles, or Boston, or New York, or even Chicago. Just as I had been my entire life until now, they had been sheltered in their surroundings as well. And their surrounding was home to them. As Boston and New England were home to me.

The entire time I've spent in Los Angeles has been wonderful, for the most part. I really can't complain. Still, I find myself missing my family and friends and girlfriend constantly. It's not that I don't have friends out here - many of my good friends from school traveled out this semester. And it's not really even the fact that I haven't seen my family.

The reality of the situation is that the entire time I was in Boston, I probably saw them just as much as I do now... and communicated far less. Yet I think the literal physical distance is what I can't escape from in the back of my head. I know that New England is home, and I know that New England is far away. Ultimately, I will return there. In fact, ideally, I'll live there again in the immediate and forseeable future. The job market may dictate something different, but not if I have my choice.

Anywho, so I've had all these things in mind, and today I met somebody new at the Oakwoods while I was at the gym. His name is also Jason, and he is from Southern Georgia. He is what you would stereotype someone from Georgia to be... very pale, heavy accent, enormously friendly and talkative. I asked him about his home, and he described it as this: "there's maybe three stop lights in the whole town," meaning, I'm sure, that it's a very small area.

He told me how he disliked his home considerably. Though his family and friends were back in Georgia, he didn't want to grow old there. And for some reason that resonated strangely with me, because more and more I'm finding that I do want to grow old back where I come from.

The irony, I think is that he shared my name, as well. He mentioned how much he loved L.A., all the things he was doing.

"The girls out here are real pretty. I love going to the clubs, it's all a new experience to me. They don't have this in Georgia."

And I thought, 'they don't have this in Massachusetts either, but it really doesn't appeal to me.'

I've already mentioned once or twice my fondness for home and how lucky I am to have a family who loves and cares so much for me, and vice-versa. The longer I stay away from them, the less time I spend with them throughout my life. And though I'm cherishing this experience, I really can't wait to get back.

Finally.

Some of the fellow interns I've talked to, prior to getting to travel out into the field, get a phone call from my boss (Armen) prior to getting the chance.

I liken it to something like being called up from the minor leagues in baseball.

Armen: "Here's your chance, kid... go get 'em."

Me: "Thanks, skip."

Up until now, I have received no phone calls.

I got into work the other day expecting to do nothing. There were no baseball games, no basketball games, no nothing.

So of course, I got in, and started doing what every intern is told to do when there's nothing in particular to do: surf the internet.

I was almost immediately greeted by Armen, who told me I was headed out into the field.

YES!

I was to go interview a high school player by the name of Patrick Hall and his coach, Tom Therrian, who were up in Ventura, California. They played for St. Bonaventure and were going to face CalState Poly that weekend, the number 1 ranked team in the country. Patrick Hall was a senior, three years younger than me. He has a full scholarship to play football for USC and will probably start at running back quickly after he gets there.

The experience I had this day made all the other days of nothingness or near nothingness worth it in every way.

My afternoon started off meeting Glenn, who has been a cameraman for CBS for 20 plus years. He drove us both out to the field, which took about an hour to get to. The entire time we talked about what I wanted to be doing, and what he had done. From resume tapes to his sports experiences to how I should break into the business, I soaked everything up like a sponge.

We got to the field and my first impression was that everybody around us was impressed and wanted to get on camera. I thought this to be funny... as I, too, want to get on camera eventually.

Glenn let me do a number of stand-ups and I was admittedly nervous. He could tell, but he was patient and helpful. It was almost my first real interview with a player and a coach.

The whole thing really reinforced that this is truly what I want to do. Glenn reinforced it too. He kept saying, "I have nothing to complain about. I have the dream job." The only thing that gave me pause was when he started talking about his family... and mentioned how he had missed much of his little girl's upbringing.

It was a lot to digest and I hope to write more soon. I hope to go out with Glenn again soon, also. This was definitely a turning point in my experience, and I hope it continues for the better.

Little Email, Big Results

I've been a bit frustrated thus far at the lack of, well, doing anything so far at the internship.

Coupled with this is the fact that other interns, a select few, (out of maybe twenty-seven), have gone out into the field to Lakers' practice... or to the Dodgers locker room... all the while, I sit around and log games and do the job they've asked me to do.

It's not that I'm jealous... but, well, I was jealous. I felt as if I was wasting my time while others were thoroughly enjoying theirs.

I was going to talk to my boss directly on Tuesday, (and was a bit nervous about overstepping my boundaries and talking to him directly), when he decided to skip out of the office early. Conveniently for me, this allowed me to email him instead. Enough was enough.

I sent the following email on (9/30):

{{{Hey Armen -

Was gonna catch you this afternoon but you seemed to be in a hurry to get out of here. I haven't asked you yet, because I don't want to overstep my boundaries, but I was wondering if there's a bit more I can be doing for you around here. My next step from here is to get on the job market and see what kinds of openings I can find, and I was hoping to get a bit more experience here than what I've received so far.

I certainly don't mind logging tapes and logging games, I understand that is all a necessary part of the job for interns. Still, I'd really like to be doing more. My capabilities stretch way beyond that, and I'm a fast learner. Is it at all possible for me to start going out into the field with your reporters and cameramen? These types of experiences would be so valuable for me and I would relish it. In addition, the chance at maybe sneaking in a stand-up for my demo would be spectacular as well. Again none of these things are expected. I just feel like I'm being underused.

Let me know how you feel. Don't know if you're in tomorrow, hopefully I'll catch you then. If not, you know how to reach me.

Best,

Jason}}}

...needless to say, I was a bit nervous. The fate of my internship future was on the line.

Wednesday afternoon rolled around and my boss came right up to me. He had read my email. And he apologized to me. He had been very busy and planned to get me out in the field soon. And furthermore, could I go to Lakers practice on Thursday?

I didn't take a second to reply 'yes,' before I remembered that I had two classes on Thursday and had to decline. Still, it felt good to get asked, and I know there will be more chances in the future. I've been there almost a month already, with merely two months left to go. Time is flying, as expected. Hopefully I can make the most out of the rest of the opportunities given to me there.

The Real World.

So far this internship has been a blur of new friends, frustration, boring activities, tedious job searches, hope for the future, and self-evaluation.

The first couple of weeks at CBS 2 have often been spent logging games or logging tapes that need to be described in the online database. Typical intern stuff - nothing entertaining, nothing difficult... mostly something that needs to be done. (And that nobody else wants to do).

So in trying to evaluate my own future in this business, I tend to multi-task on the job, which is equivalent to me saying that sometimes I procrastinate from tasks on the job so that I don't feel as if I'm wasting my time for 8 Emerson credits of education.

The other day, for instance, I joined TVjobs.com, which is a database of what one would assume it should be. The website, which asks for $50 of my former hard-earned-dollars and current savings, was enlightening in many ways.

The most intriguing part of my membership to the website, and ensuing job search was that I think I actually can get a job pretty quickly after school, if I take the right steps. It is probably possible for me to get an on-camera sports job... in the "middle-of-nowhere" Minnesota. So if I move 2,000 miles away from family and friends in New England, and I want to sacrifice any normalcy in my surroundings, and I only want to make $16,000 a year for two years in the middle of the country... the job is probably mine... if I can make the cut.

I went through a lot of self-evaluating this week. And a lot of internal questions.

Q. If I only make 16,000 dollars a year... is this really what I want to do with my life?

A. Yes.


Q. Come on, think that one through again. $16,000 is less than $1,400/month. Less than that after taxes. So I can do what I truly want to do with my life... for $350/week?

A. Yes?


To many extents, my career goals can't be about money and I knew that coming in to this situation. But at some point, I have to think about financing... and therein lies the problem.

Of course, it's best to be thinking about these questions now, I know. I'm three months before an actual career decision. And, as I well know, grad school looms for those unsure about entering the real world immediately. If nothing else, there's always that. The interesting thing through all of this is that what I value most has nothing to do with money or location or any of the aformentioned things. What matters most to me, I'm reaffirming, is family.

Being 3,000 miles away from everybody here in L.A. kind of puts that in perspective... My eldest sister is about to have a baby boy. The rest of all my family live in New England. My girlfriend's family all live in New England as well.

So, my concerns about the internship have moved beyond my tasks here specifically. I mean, I can't complain. I'm making friends, I'm slowly making contacts, and I think my tasks will gradually improve as the days move on. The real stress now comes from the decision after the internship... and after graduation... "where do I go from here?"

A common question for most college grads, I know... but one that I hadn't spent any time reflecting on. I remember upon graduating from high school, we talked about the real world... and that was an illusion. Bartending for easy cash, spending time with friends in a beautiful suite in downtown Boston, meeting the love of your life in the process... that was fun, but it wasn't the real world. The real world looms large starting in December. My time in California will be through, my internship finished, my undergraduate college career over. Time to find a job, time to move forward.

Welcome to the real world, Sports Intern.

The Sports Intern Goes Hollywood.

Two years removed.

It has been two years since my last internship - my first internship - at NECN in Boston. I'm more educated. I'm more experienced.

You could even say,
I'm well seasoned.

And yet, I'm sitting in a cubicle... all by myself... surfing the internet and waiting to log a game for CBS2/KCAL9. Never fear! The location has changed, but the sports intern is still here.

At the very least, I'm receiving academic credit this time. Which brings me to this blog. First off, I am impressed this thing still exists. It was a boring afternoon at NECN that spurred me to start preaching my thoughts to a collective audience that truthfully, never existed in the first place. Plus, I remembered my username. And my password. Who'd have thunk it?

Which brings me back to now. As this internship counts for credit, I'm required by Emerson College law to provide a final project which proves to some advisor who could care less about my being that, while here, I may have learned something. A reflective essay, perhaps. Or a portfolio of work. A video project was suggested to me by my intern supervisor.

So now, as I reflect on NECN, and I ponder how to spend my time here today, I think... what better way to bullshit my way through a final project than blogging?

Blogging is the best way to write, if for no other reason, because you don't have to be gramattically correct. Case in point - I had to look up how to spell "gramatticaly." I wasn't right the first time - there's only one 'l,' - but I'm not going to change it. This is a blog. Not a newspaper.

So a blog it is. I only posted 3 times at NECN, and perhaps that is an indication of how good I may or may not have had it. By the time I started posting blogs there, I was almost immediately moving on to bigger and better things to help out around the office. I was editing. I was writing. I was putting content on the air. All of these things are foreign to me at the moment. I am once again sitting at a computer, wasting my time, all so I can say I was an intern. A Sports Intern.

I will try and post as often as possible here. If nothing else, so I can use this as an excuse for a final project. I'm back to watching the Red Sox play for first place in the AL East. (Really, how have the Rays been on top for so long???) More to come soon.

- Sports Intern.

Clue(less).

Sometimes, the world of sports collides with the world of gaming.
Sometimes, the world of gaming collides with alcohol.
When the latter two mix, greatness occurs.

Got some alcohol kicking around and nothing to do with it? Don't get mad. Don't get mean. Sports intern's got your back. Either create a new game and go forth on your own fantastic journey... or use the rules to this one that was collectively invented by sports intern and a group of friends. Enjoy.

"Clueless"

General Rules.

- The board game Clue is needed, and normal rules to that game apply. Up to six people can play. There are various cards containing weapons, characters, and rooms. At the start of the game, one of each of these items is secretly chosen and placed into an envelope. None of the participants know what is in that envelope. The object of the game is to correctly guess the three cards that are there... accusing a person ("Mrs. White..."), choosing a weapon ("with the revolver..."), and guessing a location ("...in the library.") If you need more instruction from here on the actual rules, consult the instruction manual. Clearly, you've had a neglected childhood if you've never played Clue.
- Prior to the game, each person gets a drink of their choice. Also, one empty cup goes in the middle of the game board, ala 'Kings'.
- Each person picks a character from the start, and plays as that character during the game.

Drinking.

- If you roll the die and are able to hop from room to room in one turn without getting stuck in the hall, you get penalized for being too good. Drink.
- If someone, on their turn, suggests your character as the murderer and drags you into the room with them, you drink.
- If, on your turn, you make a suggestion, and the person immediately to your left (as rules dictate) can not provide you with either the person, weapon, or room you asked for... drink. Continue doing so for each successive person that can't help you.
- If, at any point, you knock over an upright-standing game piece, (either a weapon or a character), you're clumsy. Take a drink.
- If you roll the die or move out of turn, you drink. Pay attention, Einstein.
- If you knock over the middle cup, pick it up, drink the equivelant to whatever was in it, and then refill it with some sort of alcohol. Clean up that mess you made, too.

- If 3 or more people enter the same room, it's a social. (Three's a crowd rule). Everyone drinks.

- If you roll a '1' on the die, you're a loser for doing so. Pour some of your drink into the middle cup.
- If you enter one of the corner rooms, pour into the middle cup. Just because.
- If you use the 'secret passage ways' in the corners to go from room to room... pour into the middle cup and drink... cause that's just lazy.

The Accusation.

- If a player feels that they know the correct suspect, weapon, and location in the middle envelope, then they may make a 'final accusation' on their turn, as rules dictate. Out loud, they state their final accusation, "Colonel Mustard! With the rope! In the study!", and look in the envelope to see if they are correct. They must not let other players know the cards in the envelope. If said person finds that they are wrong in their accusation, they automatically lose... and they have to drink the middle cup. Game continues until someone gets it right.
- If the accusation made is correct, then the game is over, and the player who made the accusation is the winner. Still, the middle cup has to be consumed by someone. So, whoever's character was inside the envelope... (the murderer)... they drink the cup. (This is the best rule of all, of course, because no one can dictate whether or not their character ends up in the envelope at the beginnning of the game).


...mix a little alcohol with good friends and a stupid idea... and you've got one hell of a game. Enjoy. (Hooray, responsibility!)


- sports intern.

And Remember... Next Friday is Hawaiian Shirt Day...

The First "Official" Blog: A Running Diary of Sports Intern's Last (Fri)day at the Station.

12:00 PM. My first task? To cover the World Cup and log the game. The first of many times I hear "City of Blinding Lights" via an ESPN promo. How much is Bono getting paid to put his face all over this year's World Cup? Furthermore, is the World as sick of Bono as I am?

12:21 PM. To my surprise, I'm not bored by this game. In fact, after three quick goals between the two teams, I'm thoroughly entertained. This is much better then game 1 of the NBA Finals last night. Which begs the question: if Shaq put on a soccer uniform, would I watch more soccer? I think the answer is yes.

12:23 PM. More World Cup fun. Trying to pronounce player's names is almost impossible. For added difficulty, I suppose you could do it with a mouthful of peanut butter.

12:24 PM. I got one of the names. Gonzalez. G-O-N-Z-A-L-E-Z. He plays for Costa Rica, and I can pronounce his name.

12:39 PM. Benefit of being a sports intern? While searching for vintage Pedro Martinez Red Sox footage in preparation for the upcoming Mets vs Sox series, I stumble across a gold mine of raw post-game celebrations. The highlight came from the 2003 ALDS vs Oakland. As Peter Gammons stands quietly in a hallway leading to the locker room, waiting for the victorious Sox to arrive, the silence is quickly interrupted by a rowdy Pedro Martinez in a "cowboy up" t-shirt, running through the hall screaming: "YANNNNKKEEEEESSSSS!!!" David Ortiz quickly gives chase, screaming: "Oh, shit! Oh, shit!" The camera slowly pans back to Gammons, who has had the crap scared out of him by the sudden appearance of Pedro and Papi. The look on Gammons' face is excellent. He looks like an old man who forgot to look both ways before crossing the street... then almost got hit by a car. Priceless.

12:40 PM. A message labeled "urgent" just popped on my screen via the station email system. I open it up, curious. The message simply reads: "The ice cream truck is here." ...we get free ice cream on Fridays.

12:45 PM. Someone really needs to do a sitcom about what goes on in a news station's sports department.

12:46 PM. Nevermind. I just remembered that's been done. It was called "Sports Night," and I'm pretty sure it got canceled. Still, I liked that show. Wonder if it's available on DVD.

12:51 PM. An interesting aspect of the World Cup, as explained to me by a fellow sports intern: apparently, there is never a stoppage of play in soccer. The play clock just keeps going once it starts. So, at the end of a 45 minute half, the refs add "injury" time to the game to compensate for any perceived time they missed out on while the clock was still running. No wonder I never got into this game. I trust my game clocks to be run by computers only.

12:52 PM. ESPN is using their "NFL Live" set to cover the FIFA World Cup, and this is bothering me a little bit. I don't know why. By the way, who are these analysts? Julie Foudy? What happened to that girl who took her shirt off a couple of years ago during the women's World Cup? Couldn't we have broken her out for this occasion?

12:54 PM. Brandy Chastain. That was her name.

12:56 PM. Pretend insta-poll: funnier commercials. Guinness? or Burger King?

12:57 PM. The Adidas commercial where the two kids pick all the pro players to play soccer kind of reminds me of the "Homer at the Bat" Simpsons episode. So classic.

(Ken Griffey's Gro-tesquely swolen jaaaawww!)
(Steve Sax and his run-in with the laawwwww!)

12:59 PM. Number of people I've heard say the words "ice cream truck" so far today? ...five.

1:01 PM. Why did Hyundai of all companies decide to sponsor the World Cup Halftime report? Is this simply because of the alliteration coincidence between "Hyundai" and "Halftime"? If so, the Honda car company totally dropped the ball on this one.

1:35 PM. Funny exchange I just eavesdropped on.
Weather Lady: "I did a terrible job today."
Random News Intern: "You were fine."
Weather Lady: "I said intermittently! Who says that winds are blowing intermittently???"
Random News Intern: (silence).
Weather Lady: "I'm going to get some ice cream from the ice cream truck."

1:46 PM. After logging a number of different classic Pedro moments, I realize that I miss him desperately. Interesting side note: Pedro's Mets press conference is followed up direcly on the news file tape with footage of Suddam Hussein being captured. I'm not lieing.

1:58 PM. I sense a bit of chemistry between this Wylanda guy and Fowdy. By the way, apparently Fowdy is a former US women's team captain. I still think it would've been cool to get Brandy Chastain.

1:59 PM. Point of note. A lot of cute female interns work over in the news department. Sadly, few of them ever travel over to the sports department. Why is this?

3:01 PM. Back to soccer after a bit of editing. According to the guy on ESPN, the average German drinks 300 pints of beer a year. Germany is also apparently the World's leading producer of sausage. I congratulate ESPN on doing the best job possible to try and make me forget that I'm actually watching soccer.

3:02 PM. Just saw a World Cup promo that wasn't narrated by Bono. What gives? Did they cut his paychecks already?

3:41 PM. Finished editing my first news-ready, legit interview... with none other than... Chris Smith, of the AA Portland SeaDogs. I hadn't heard of him either. The World Cup announcers are becoming more ammusing as the games go on. One says "it's a bit of a nailbiter, isn't it?!?" in an extreme Irish accent. Meanwhile, ESPN's cameras cut to a shot of one of the coaches literally biting their nails. This is good TV.

3:43 PM. It's official. Announcers with thick Irish accents officially kick the ass of announcers without thick Irish accents. Honestly, can we get these guys to announce the NBA Finals? I like Hubie Brown, but come on. These guys rock.

3:45 PM. The most intriguing story line of Ecuador vs Poland, to me, is the goaltender for Ecuador. He's using eyeblack, only the eyeblack isn't black. Instead, it's multicolored, and he's using it as facepaint, so that he has little mini Ecuador flags under each of his eyes. Really now. Is this supposed to be intimidating? Did you just come back from a carnival? I hope he brought balloon animals for the rest of the team.

3:48 PM. Done with the first half of Ecuador vs Poland. This means I've officially watched three halfs of soccer. On to the Hyundai Halftime Report!

3:50 PM. Jim Leyritz, former Yankee player, is admitting to having taken amphetamines, according to ESPN.com. Daryl Strawberry is reported as having asked: "why didn't I think of that?"

3:59 PM. Just had a little exchange with the sports boss:
Sports Boss: "So we're gonna get that feed from Fenway..."
Sports Intern: "ok."
Sports Boss: "So if you want... you know... you could... edit it?"
Sports Intern: "...sure."
...that was like asking the hottest girl in school to prom. It didn't have to be that difficult.

4:05 PM. ESPN's soccer announcers excitedly announce the score. "Poland - Nil! Ecuador - One!" They're playcalling is totally making this worth it for me. Really, who says "nil"?

4:07 PM. Updated approximation of the number of times I've heard the words "ice cream truck" today? ...twenty-three.

4:08 PM. A great exchange between the soccer announcers:
Announcer 1: "Did you know, Tommy, the first oil well was drilled by a 'Pole'?"
Tommy: "Funny, I thought it was drilled by a bit!"
...this was followed by seconds of continuous Irish chuckle. All they really need is a rimshot at the end. Currently, I'm imagining 'Tommy's' appearance as something like a mix between Jerry Remy and the Lucky Charms leprechaun. This imagery alone is making the game fantastic.

4:11 PM. As Sports Anchor strolls into the station, I attempt to talk to him.
Sports Intern: "How's the weather out there? Still raining?"
Sports Anchor: "NICE! Ehhh... (inaudible mumbling)..."
...amazing how incoherent he is off camera. That response didn't even make sense.

4:20 PM. Sports Employee: "If this game gets rained out tonight, you think we'll get a triple-header tomorrow?"

4:33 PM. At some point when I wasn't paying attention, Ecuador has taken a lead. Sports Anchor feels the need to comment.
Sports Anchor: "This is very disturbing."
Sports Intern: "What are you talking about?"
Sports Anchor: "Poland! That's what."
Sports Intern: "What's wrong with Ecuador?"
Sports Anchor: "Come on. It's Ecuador."
Sports Intern: "And Poland's any better?"
Sports Anchor: "As an intern, you wouldn't understand."

4:45 PM. Got to help with last minute preps for the 5pm sports update. Maybe after that, I'll go to get some ice cream from the ice cream truck. In the words of Stuart Scott, hugs and hand-pounds, everyone. Man, do I hate Stuart Scott.

- sports intern.

You've Got Questions. I've Got Stupid Answers.

Welcome to the mind of a sports intern.

There are many oddities in the sports world and life that deserve a nonsensical opinion to accompany them. This is where I step in. Recently hired as a sports intern at a local news station, I see and hear many things that deserve to be written about. What hypothetical questions can I answer for you? For starters...

- Is Hazel Mae allowed to do a NESN Sports Desk broadcast without wearing a low-cut shirt?
- Can Tim McCarver actually pronounce his own name?
- Would it really be that bad of an idea for Isiah Thomas to take over as commissioner of the WNBA?
- Is the Boston Herald run by monkeys?
- If Shaquille O'Neal shot one hundred free throws in a row, would he make more than half? More importantly, would he airball less then 20?
- Will Gilbert Gottfried's greatest roll forever be known as the voice of the "Aflac Duck"?

This is the start of an entertaining, yet bizarre, written outlook on sports and life. Proceed with caution.

- Sports Intern.