The last time I posted on here, I was completing the final assignment for my post-graduation summer internship at Golf World, where I covered the Dick's Sporting Goods Open on the Champions Tour in Endicott, NY. I was excited about this for a myriad of reasons: I was having the chance to report live on an event for the magazine, I was returning to an event I loved growing up, and I would have the chance to interview my childhood hero, Fred Funk, the guy who essentially inspired me to pursue a dream of becoming a golf writer.
So I went, I watched, I wrote, and I interviewed Fred. All in all, a great time. Maybe Fred wasn't quite as friendly as I had envisioned, but in the grand scheme of things, there is no way he could have lived up to the expectations placed in my head. Not many childhood heroes/idols can, I don't think.
Although I was having fun covering the event, the experience was placed in the context that I didn't know what my next steps were. I had my college degree, and for the first time in my life I had no plan other than to go home to Buffalo and figure it out. I love home, I was happy to reunite with high school friends, and I was happy to be there for Bills football season (of course), but I was nervous. I never wanted to be the guy who came home from college a failure, coming up empty in the job search after my family invested so much in my education. It scared me, and it sickened me.
Making matters worse was the fact that on the Friday at Endicott, I received a rejection email from a small newspaper in Oneida, NY, where I had interviewed a couple of weeks prior. The rejection served to confirm my fear that I lacked the newspaper internship experience necessary to get a job as a sportswriter at a newspaper. It didn't make me quit the journalism job search by any means, but I knew that the clock was ticking. I wasn't going to stay unemployed forever — at some point, I would have to go into sales, insurance or something of the sort, just whatever I could get.
I have always been a firm believer, however, that life works in strange and mysterious ways (credit U2). On cue, when I received that Friday's weekly email from Syracuse with communications opportunities for graduates, I came across an opening for a sports editor at the Medina Journal-Register, a small paper in the Buffalo area. My heart jumped. In my 10 or so months of searching for full-time work as a writer, I had yet to see an opening in Western New York, the place I grew up in. People in journalism always say that being local matters, more than in the typical industry. At the very least, I had some sort of hope to hold onto as I prepared to hit the open road.
Things escalated quickly. I immediately sent the Medina publisher, Diane Crowe, a package of my writing and credentials, along with a cover letter describing how desperately I wanted to break into the industry. Diane responded shortly thereafter, telling me to give her a call on Monday. With a phone interview set up, I was able to head home with at least one lead.
The phone interview went well, and they invited me in for an interview on Wednesday. I met with most of the senior staff, and Diane promptly called on Thursday to offer me the job. It was long hours, little pay, and a far drive, but I didn't hesitate for a second. A job covering sports in my hometown area, where I could live at home for a while, save up money, hang out with friends and go to all the Bills games? I didn't think I could beat it.
The concerns were valid, but the job was awesome. It was a pleasure to get paid to do something I loved, and dealing with the coaches and players of the Niagara-Orleans League was truly an enjoyable experience. As I got to know my co-workers and the Niagara-Orleans community, I figured I would be content staying at the job for a year or two, cutting my teeth in journalism and adjusting to post-college life.
That was all well and good, until another curveball came flying my way. Golf World gave me a call, informing me that I could come back and work on a permanent basis if I would like. I couldn't believe it. I was having a great time working in Medina, for sure, but again this was an opportunity of a lifetime. I didn't start this blog for nothing. I didn't travel halfway across the country in search of stories on the Web.com Tour for nothing. Golf writing is what I have always wanted to do. I took the job.
So I gave my two weeks' notice at the paper, and I prepared to move back to the Connecticut region of the Tri-state area. I arrived back at the Golf World office and made my re-acquaintances, and I have been here for almost three weeks now. I have re-assumed many of the research/editing/administrative tasks that I performed over the summer, and I am now also editor of the print magazine's Tour Talk section. As an avid follower of golf's pro tours for most of my life, it is truly an honor and a privilege.
So what's next? To keep it simple, it's hard to say! I'm renting a room in Danbury on a month-to-month basis, just trying to get to know the area and meet people. Leaving home was hard, but my new region is full of potential and things to explore. I'm looking forward to it.
For One Step Away, I have every intention of maintaining the blog at any events I may have the good fortune of covering as time progresses. I will also write occasionally about various happenings in the world of golf at my discretion — I'm not sure exactly what the format will be, but I am open to any and all suggestions. Weekly features may be in order as we progress, but nothing is set in stone at the moment.
It's been a long ride, but the path is still in its early stages. Been through a lot, but still standing. As we approach the two-year mark of the inauguration of One Step Away, the beat certainly goes on.
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