Anyone who has ever entered a career in journalism will tell you a couple things:
First, you have to love it. The money is not great unless you're one of the few to make it big, and the hours are worse.
Second, your career will involve a lot of grunt work, and could take you to some less than desirable places and situations.
In my case, my first job was in a small town of 15,000 people. It was a four hour drive to the nearest major city. The joke in town about what to do there was drive to said city. Simply put, there wasn't much action.
My job involved doing pretty much everything at the paper. I was essentially a one person newsroom. I was covering mundane city council meetings, interviewing anyone who opened a new business in town and even having to write obituaries, which I hated. I felt very uncomfortable talking to families in their worst moments.
I also was responsible for selling advertising, which I hated worse than the obituaries. The only thing worse than talking to family members about someone who just died is having to ask them for money. I had to turn in reports each week asking who I solicited. It was painful.
I even had to manage the office, which included making sure things like the water and electric bills were paid each month. The owner of the station couldn't bother himself with it. There was always one other staff member besides me, but that spot changed so often I lost track who took a job and then left.
The only thing that kept me there was I got to cover sports. Mostly high school stuff in such a small town but there was also a junior college. I really took the men's basketball beat seriously. I hoped I would be able to build enough of a portfolio to move up to a bigger city.
Still, I often wondered if it worth it. I sometimes contemplated quitting and moving back to Denver where I grew up. I ultimately decided to stick it out. I didn't want to give up. My parents didn't get it. They couldn't understand why I was wasting my early 20s in a boring town, working my ass off for no money.
When I couldn't go to my best friend's wedding due to not being able to afford it and my asshole boss not giving me time off, I was ready to quit. I had the letter typed out and everything. I had it in hand and walked in the building to find it packed with people. Okay, there were six people, but that was packed when our staff consisted of me and one other person.
Being that it was a small town I knew right away who was there. I recognized the husband and wife who owned the local radio station, as well as the Athletic Director at the junior college.
"Ah Rick French, just the man we've been dying to see!" The AD jumped out of his chair and shook my hand vigorously. "Sit, sit! We have loads to discuss."
"Is this about one of my articles?" I asked him. "Is something wrong?" It was my instinct to think there was an issue.
"Oh heavens no. We love your work."
"Us too," the female station owner said. "That's why we're here."
To make a long story short and to set up the main, and much more interesting, part of this story, the radio station owners bought the paper, kicked my asshole boss to the curb and doubled my pay. They also gave me an opportunity that ensured the letter in my hand wouldn't see the light of day.
"We want you to be our voice," the college AD declared.
It took me a moment to realize what he was offering. "Your what?" I mustered.
"Our voice," he repeated. "And we hope you'll be so for a very long time."
The junior college games were broadcast on the radio. They don't have a football team, but I'd get to call men's and women's basketball, baseball, and women's volleyball. It was the basketball I was excited about.
"You won't have to do any of the extra stuff. You'll just call the games and cover sports," the male station owner said. "Sound like a deal?"
"But I've never done broadcasting before," I blurted out.
"That's ok we'll teach you," the female station owner said. "We know there will be a learning curve."
I still wasn't sure but I ultimately accepted the offer. I'm really glad I didn't turn in that letter. If I had, I would have missed out on a truly memorable experience. I ended up throwing it away at home.
I really wanted to jump into basketball but volleyball season was first, in the fall. It's the sport I knew least about. I tried to do some research, learn some terms, understand some strategy. I didn't feel confident, and my first few games showed it. I butchered players' names and really didn't understand what I was looking at.
I actually learned a lot watching some broadcasts that ESPNU had on. I wrote down terms they used and started to understand some of the strategy better. I also got more familiar with our roster a few games in. Knowing who the players are really helped.
It also didn't hurt that the team wasn't bad to look at, and I don't mean their performance. These were athletic 19 and 20 old chicks. They were all in great shape and they got themselves in positions during games that I got to see a lot of curves. In short I thought the women on the team were hot.
I'm not going to lie. I liked being courtside, particularly when I had such an up close view of their seemingly see through spandex shorts. I swear I got some views of lips, if you get my drift, more than once.
One nice perk was the team warmed up in one set of jerseys, then stripped them off right there on the court and changed into their game jerseys. They were all wearing sports bras of course, but I made sure not to miss that.
While my play-by-play improved during the course of the season, I was still shy in terms of my personality. I only talked to the players when I had to interview them. I was too nervous to engage when I rode the bus with the team our otherwise crossed paths with anyone at the hotel or at meals. I kept my distance and focused on my job.
Occasionally the players would giggle when they were around me, but I figured it was regular college girl stuff. My first hint that it wasn't was on the bus as we pulled up to a road game. The coach had gone in to get everyone's hotel keys. The players were all seated on the bus. I was in my customary assigned seat toward the front.
I heard a LOT of giggling after the coach left. Then a "shhhh!"
"I'll do it. Watch this," I heard from several rows behind me. More giggling.
One of the players, Brittany, a tiny (for volleyball) 5'10" blonde setter walked to the front of the bus. (For reference I'm 5'7" and consider myself average height). Without a word she stripped off her shirt right in front of me and lifted up her sports bra to reveal her bare breasts. I was so shocked I stared right at them without blinking. I would say they were Bs, maybe Cs. I couldn't tell. To be honest I hadn't seen very many.
Because I was staring at her boobs I didn't see her smiling wide. "Hey dude are you catatonic?" I looked up as she spoke and she burst out laughing. "Okay how long?" She yelled toward the back.
"Twelve seconds!"
She pulled down the sports bra and put her shirt back on. Then she shook her head and walked back to her seat, smiling at me as she did so. "You're a shy one. We're going to have some fun with you."
The entire bus laughed. I was mortified. I also realized I was getting hard in my jeans. I whacked off as soon as I got in my room. It had dawned on me that Brittany voluntarily showed me her boobs and they were, well nice to look at for sure.
