My son, Jeff, wants to be a sportswriter. He wants to cover a major league baseball team. He’ll be 23 next month and is nearing graduation (knock on wood) from Wichita State.
I sometimes wonder why he wants to be a sportswriter, but it’s so obvious. He spent so much of his youth going to games with me. Specifically, I remember covering the Wichita Wranglers in 1987 and 1988. Jeff was in the press box with me for a bunch of those games. And he was interested in what was going on in the game.
Then he would be there as I did post-game interviews. And he watched as I wrote my story. Somewhere along the line, it got into his blood. The kid grew to love sports, just like his old man. And love writing, just like his old man. And he’s not really a kid anymore, is he? Time goes so quickly.
I hope he makes it. I hope he gets to do exactly what he wants to do for a career and in his life. Newspapers are a little bit scary right now as the ever-changing media world keeps spinning. And I’m a little bit nervous about it all. Aren’t most parents as their children get ready to embark on careers?
Excuse my sappiness, but being Jeff’s father has been my greatest life experience. Watching him grow. Seeing him succeed and, sometimes, fail. I look forward to seeing where he goes from here. With one eye closed, of course.