Sometimes, realizing what you are not is just as important

By JACQUE SKOWVRON

I grew up with a baseball glove on my left hand and a pencil in my right. I was the little… I grew up with a baseball glove on my left hand and a pencil in my right. I was the little tomboy girl who loved to write.

My brother and I would spend hours outside in the backyard playing baseball games against each other.

Of course, there were only two of us, so we would create invisible runners that were only safe if we hit the ball past the bird feeder or the willow tree. Fly balls were almost always an out. And if you could hit it all the way to the woods – homerun! Zach was Cal Ripken Jr. I was Andy Van Slyke.

We started with a wiffle ball and a plastic bat when we were just three and four. Eventually, we graduated to real bats and baseballs, but the house got hit one too many times, so Mom and Dad bought us tennis balls. We hit those too far most of the time, usually losing them in the 100 acres of woods around our house, so being the determined kids we were, we wrapped wiffle balls in electrical tape.

After our exhausting games, I’d write about them, recounting play-by-play what happened and who came away with the win. Usually, it was Zach. He hit a lot more into the woods than I did.

From the time I learned how to spell – which is debatable if it has even occurred yet – in some way, shape or form, I’ve been writing about sports. Any chance I ever got in school, I turned a writing assignment into a writing-about-sports assignment.

But I’ve learned there’s a big difference in writing about sports and being a sportswriter. You have to have very unique qualities to be a sportswriter.

I’ve been privileged enough to work with very amazing and talented people. And with their help and examples, I did improve my sportswriting ability, but I’ve realized something very valuable – I’m not a sportswriter.

I can’t remember every fact about every team and player of every sport Dan Patrick talks about. I can’t analyze plays and formations. I’m not a critic, and to be a good sportswriter you have to be.

While I’ve realized what I’m not, I’ve also realized what I truly am.

I may not know much about every team and every athlete, but if it’s a team I’m passionate about, I’ll tell you what the screams before their games mean and why No. 12 isn’t wearing batting gloves.

And I’m not a critic; I’m a hardcore, true fan. I’m not up for braving the harsh reactions of negative statements, I’d rather brave the harshest weather conditions or the bleakest odds or people saying I’m crazy for still believing. Instead of motivating athletes by pointing out their weaknesses, I point out what’s positive. I always find the positive.

Athletes need sportswriters. Athletes need critics. We all do. If everyone told you that you were wonderful all the time, you’d never work harder. If no one pointed out your weaknesses, you’d never improve. If no one ever told you that you couldn’t do it, you’d never push yourself to find a way to do it.

Just like Mom and Dad told my brother and me we couldn’t use real baseballs, we found a way to continue doing what we loved.

And just as athletes do, we need positive motivators. We need people who will always be there to pick us up after we fall. We need people who will continue to tell us we can when the rest of the world says we can’t. We need people to believe in us in order to believe in ourselves. Both critics and believers are necessary.

So where does all of this leave me?

Well, I know I love sports. I’ll still go to sleep with ESPN and wake up with ESPN. I know I wouldn’t be happy without sports in my life. I know every winter, I’ll crave baseball, and every spring, football won’t come soon enough.

But I don’t love sports in the kind of way necessary for sportswriting. For what I’ll use my passion for sports, I’m not sure. My brother and I have always teased that I’ll be his agent one day. Maybe I will. But sometimes, figuring out what we’re not meant to do is just as important.

No opportunity is ever wasted. You learn something from everything.

E-mail Jacque at [email protected].