I’m not writing a goodbye column. Nobody wants to sit around reading between 4,000 and 5,000… I’m not writing a goodbye column. Nobody wants to sit around reading between 4,000 and 5,000 characters of sappy memories and cheesy analogies about all the pit stops we take on the winding road of life.

At least I know I wouldn’t want to read about that. Not when there’s real news going on.

We’re in the middle of a historic presidential race, one that will be talked about for decades to come. Readers want to read about Sen. Barack Obama bowling a 37 in Altoona or Sen. Hillary Rodham Clinton throwing back shots of Crown Royal in front of cameras in Indiana. People want to read about Sen. John McCain, who seems to have been forgotten by most media outlets. Politics is huge right now. We’re at war, people. That’s what the people want to read.

So I’m not writing a goodbye column.

Nobody wants a column about football games in the mud or Christmas tree bonfires. Nobody wants to read about road trips to Baltimore, Md.; Washington, D.C.; Daytona Beach, Fla.; State College, Pa.; or Chapel Hill, N.C. Nobody likes stories about dropping flaming big-screen TVs off abandoned factory roofs or participating in hot dog eating contests in 95-degree heat. I wouldn’t write that because nobody would read it.

People care about celebrities, not real people.

They love the glamour and the scandal. All they want to know about is high-profile divorces and blood alcohol contents.

They want to read about who was talking to whom in the club last night and who wasn’t even invited to the party. They want to know what Britney Spears is doing right now. Celebrities are interesting. Unlike real people, they do interesting things. That’s why people want to read about them.

And I know this. That’s why I’m not even going to mention all the people who’ve changed my life over the past four years, including 12 different roommates and more than 35 professors. I’m not going to talk about the characters, the brothers, the classmates or the visitors.

Nobody cares about the security guards who made my days, or the parking authority officers who ruined many, many more. Nobody cares about friends staying up until dawn doing nothing but talking. That sounds boring. Nobody wants to read about that, and I don’t blame them.

Sports are pretty big right now, too. Nobody cares about sporting events that happened a long time ago; it’s all about what’s going on now.

People want to read about Jose Canseco’s books and Matt Walsh ratting out the New England Patriots. Readers want big national stories, like interest pieces on whoever won the Masters last weekend, and articles examining the pros and cons of the SuperSonics leaving Seattle for Oklahoma City. Those are big stories.

That’s what people want to read.

So I’m not going to bore you all with memories of all the great sporting events I’ve experienced while going to school here. Nobody cares about knocking West Virginia out of a possible national championship, or Tyler Palko’s goal line run to win the Thanksgiving Brawl in 2004, or the game-winning field goal that brought down mighty Notre Dame in South Bend. Nobody wants to hear about all the Big East Tournament moments, when a little place called Pittsburgh would take over New York City, or when Syracuse or UConn basketball players would get visibly upset by the insane energy of the Oakland Zoo.

I would write about all of that, but who would read it?

Though I don’t quite understand it, people really love to read about controversy. The angrier a column makes them, the more they want to read it. That’s why we all stick our necks out, penning our opinions on stem cell research and evolution. People read about the Arab-Israeli conflict and the United States’ war on terror.

People love arguing about health care and taxes and illegal immigrants and ridiculous oil prices. That’s what the people want, and I have long established that I am here for the people.

So you’ll see no lovey-dovey stories about life-changing experiences or learning from our mistakes.

Nothing on this page will come close to a reflection on the past or a prediction for the future. I’m not going to write about how life is short and how important it is to get the most out of every second. I’m not going to give in and thank everybody for everything they’ve done.

I’m not going to do it, and you can’t make me.

I can’t write goodbye columns. Nobody wants to read them. Nobody wants to write them.

Everything is a lot easier when you don’t have to say goodbye. So that’s why I’m not going to do it.

E-mail Sam at [email protected]. Or don’t. See if he cares.