My M-W class isn’t meeting for a couple weeks, so Tuesday night was my first time on campus since last week’s paper came out. There, front page, above the fold, was one of my stories. As always, I must admit the competition for space isn’t fierce here, but it’s still kind of fun to see your story right up front. And judging by the huge stack of papers left, six days after they were first set out, literally tens of people probably read it. I’m sure Hemingway started small as well. Apparently there is no on-line edition this year, so I can’t share.
I’m working on two stories this week. One is a big profile piece that is for class, although I’ll submit it to the paper as well and see if they can use it. I’ve already done three interviews with the subject, and have one more remaining, plus some chats with people who know her well. This is fun because I really like the profile form, and it’s one of the types of writing I would most want to do professionally. But I’m having a bit of a panic attack on how to condense all this information down into 1200 words or so. How do I tell her story in a coherent manner, with good quotes and illustrations, and write well along the way? I’ve got until Monday at noon to figure it out, I guess.
My other story for the week is about Indy being awarded the Olympic diving trials in 2008. I’ll be talking to some people who run the natatorium on campus tomorrow, and maybe some people from the diving organization if they get back to me.
How much was Fox praying for a game six at Shea so they could rehash 1986? That said, I’ll admit I’m a little surprised there hasn’t been even more discussion of that great series and game six. I’d really like to know what happened to that lady who sat behind home plate and turned her arms over each other, like a referee calling traveling, over and over during every game at Shea. She was annoying, but strangely, I miss her.
I’m kind of amazed the Cardinals are still in this. For a team that limped into the playoffs, they’ve played remarkably well. If they can somehow sneak into the World Series, it will be a great accomplishment. Sadly, for the second time in three years, they’ll run into a team of destiny when they get there. 2004 was the year the Cards should have won it, but they kicked the ball around Fenway in game one, lost the momentum, fueled the Red Sox rocket that was ready for its third stage, and got swept away. But that was the year the Cards had the pitching, the complete line-up, and the bullpen. It’s been a slow decay since then. Seriously, is Scott Rolen kind of like the picture in Back to the Future that slowly fades? Is he disappearing before our eyes?