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One Final Edit: To Take the ‘I’ Out of Article These stories are not about me: In May 2007, the Harvard softball team drew regional host Hofstra for its opening game of the NCAA Tournament and sent newly minted Ivy League Pitcher of the Year Shelly Madick to the circle. With one beatable team and one powerhouse joining them in the round-robin, picking up a W against the Pride would be the key to the Crimson advancing in the tournament.
Get a Lodha These Awkward Advocates It’s sort of awkward being a college journalist. Sure, as far as journalists go, we’re blessed. Most of the events we need to cover occur within a half-mile radius of our homes (Quadlings excluded), our subjects and sources eat meals in the same dining halls as we, and we don’t have to work with schmucks like Joe Morgan. Of course, for every 10 home games we cover, there’s a trip down the ever-dangerous Muller Hill Road, but professional journalists generally have much more trying lives than student-journalists do.
Thinking Back: It Was Fun, Harvard I never thought that I would have the chance to sit on press row during a nationally televised college basketball game. I never thought that I would have the chance to drive in the snow through upstate New York en route to covering Harvard men’s hockey and men’s basketball games in the same weekend. I never thought that I would have the chance to have a one-on-one interview with a former Duke basketball player. Heck, I never thought I’d be a sportswriter—period.
Confessions of a Boston Sports Fan It’s time for me to admit it. My name is Dan, and I’m a Boston sports fan. It’s been four days since my last trip to Fenway. (Hi, Dan.) It wasn’t always this way. For 18 years I didn’t even know I had a problem. They were simpler times, growing up in Cambridge; every sports fan I knew liked the Red Sox, every sports fan I knew liked the Patriots, and the only subject of debate was whether Tom Brady was the greatest quarterback of all time, or merely the greatest quarterback of his generation. (I’m exaggerating. Kind of.)
Learning to Love Another Crimson and Cream Months before I set foot in Holworthy 07, my father gave me an important piece of advice. Don’t choose a college based solely on its sports teams, he told me—a seemingly ridiculous suggestion given the magnanimity of my decision.
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