Finding myself as a journalist

By Karen Bielak

When I came to Pitt four years ago, I had no desire to be a journalist. I knew I wanted to… When I came to Pitt four years ago, I had no desire to be a journalist. I knew I wanted to go into sports broadcasting, so I was anxious to work for the radio station. But, for some reason, I also applied to work at The Pitt News – and it changed my life.

I still remember the first press conference I went to. It was the second home football game of my freshman year, a win over Kent State. Kevan Barlow, who is my favorite football player during my time here, ran for 206 yards and dedicated the performance to his grandmother, who was recently deceased. I walked into the press conference room at Pitt Stadium and my reaction was, “Wow, it looks just like it does on TV.”

The guys I was with from The Pitt News just laughed at me, but I couldn’t help it. I was a wide-eyed, 18-year-old kid who got her first taste of what the next four years would be.

I was always at football practices that first year, making the trek up the hill from my Tower B dorm room. I called coaches and athletics directors from other schools for quotes, wanting so badly to write the best possible story so I would impress my editors.

I went on my first road trip that year, the football game at Rutgers. While I don’t remember a whole lot about the game, I do remember touring Rutgers Stadium in a rainstorm and how sports editor Brad Cuprik threw my Doggie in the hotel elevator and pressed the down button.

That fall, The Pitt News ran a three-part series about the rebuilding of the Pitt basketball program because it was welcoming in a new coach, a relatively unknown guy from Northern Arizona University named Ben Howland. I was assigned to write the first part, focusing on the end of the Paul Evans era and the beginning of Ralph Willard’s tenure.

I knew nothing about the Panthers’ program having never watched Pitt basketball before. I remember spending hours sitting on the couch in The Pitt News office, pouring over archived articles to find out just exactly who Evans and Willard were. I also didn’t know who Howland was, but people seemed pretty happy to have him here.

And now, as my time is done here at Pitt, so is his.

Only now, I know who he is. I remember back to when he coached players like Ricardo Greer and Isaac Hawkins and student tickets to nonconference games at Fitzgerald Field House were free.

By my sophomore year, the improvements Howland made could already been seen, as the Panthers made a miracle run in the Big East Tournament before falling in the championship game to Boston College. The team then played in the National Invitational Tournament where it advanced to the second round before falling to Mississippi State.

That year was also the final meeting between Pitt and Penn State in football, with the Panthers claiming the 12-0 victory.

Pitt also played in the Insight.com Bowl that year and I was mad for the longest time that I couldn’t go. But I didn’t even get to watch the game until after it happened, because I already had tickets to a concert that night. And so I had my parents record the game and watched it in the middle of the night as my dad sat in the other room knowing that Pitt had lost. But I didn’t want to know.

I remember the day I covered a baseball doubleheader at Trees Field when it was 20 degrees and snowing. I could barely move when I stood up from the bleachers, but I had the story.

For the second season in a row, I was the primary women’s basketball writer, and Traci Waites is one of my favorite coaches that I’ve dealt with at Pitt. She gave me straight answers yet wasn’t afraid to let herself come across as a person instead of strictly as a coach.

She often invited me into her office to sit down and chat and during one particular press conference following a loss, she walked in, looked at me, and said, “You know exactly what I’m going to say.”

And I did.

When I became assistant sports editor last year, I didn’t have as much time anymore to cover games, attend practices or write features. I instead learned things like AP Style and how to layout the sports section. But the fun was only just beginning.

That October I went to Notre Dame for the first time, where I was so excited to see Touchdown Jesus. I went to Orlando, Fla., for the Tangerine Bowl, and as I look at my desk now, I see a picture of me with David Priestley and the Tangerine Bowl trophy.

I remember how we spent the night before the game down at Universal Studios and how we packed seven of us into the car to get there, including me laying across the laps of the three people in the backseat.

Three months later, we were traveling again, but this time the destination was Lexington, Ky., for the Sweet Sixteen.

The events that unfolded at Rupp Arena that night still seem surreal to me. First Indiana upset Duke, then Kent State upset Pitt in overtime. It wasn’t supposed to happen, but somehow in the end it was OK, because Pitt wasn’t supposed to be in the NCAA Tournament to begin with. There wasn’t the pressure or expectation that followed the team this season and although we were disappointed, we made the best of the situation.

I’ll never forget drinking root beer schnapps with the guys from Indiana at four o’clock in the morning or how Kenny Paul ordered porn and charged it to The Pitt News. It was also the first time I had worked on deadline away from Pittsburgh and, although it took until all hours of the morning, I remember the feeling when the paper came out the next day. I felt like a true journalist.

When I took over as sports editor in May, I suddenly became the writer that readers wanted to hate. Columns about Steve Pederson, Rutgers football and a road trip to West Virginia evoked more hate mail than I had received the previous three years combined. But I also became the shining star of Texas in September when a column regarding the Texas A’M football game brought about 100 replies on The Pitt News Web site and tons of e-mails.

I went back to Notre Dame twice this year, once for football and once for basketball, and we lost both times. I never want to go back there.

I was at the Carrier Dome when Pitt beat Syracuse for the first time there in 20 years and I was in Miami when Pitt narrowly missed an upset over the Hurricanes. There we went swimming in the ocean in the middle of a November night and called everyone back in Pittsburgh, probably just to be annoying.

I left my family on Christmas day to fly to Phoenix for the Insight Bowl and after the victory the next night, was hit on by one of the Pitt football players with the very strange pickup line: “You look old.”

I was at Madison Square Garden when Pitt beat UConn in the Big East Championship game, and I cried on the sideline in what was one of the most memorable nights of my Pitt career.

As I leave The Pitt News after four years, I’m no longer that wide-eyed child standing in Pitt Stadium. I can walk into a press conference at the Sweet Sixteen without flinching or continuously question the athletics administration about student basketball tickets even though I know they’re sick of listening to me.

But perhaps I’m more proud of the relationships I’ve had and the friends I’ve made. I only met Erin Brachlow last year, but I leave Pitt with her as my best friend from all four of my college years. I’ll always remember going to basketball games with her at the Pete (especially the night we met Dick Vitale in the press room) and how we stayed up all night in the Union just to get season tickets.

When I look back during my time here, I won’t remember the score to a particular game or how many points Brandin Knight had against Providence last year. But I will remember our penthouse suite in South Bend, Ind., the staff outings for all-you-can-eat wings and last year’s Christmas party when Kenny set off the fire extinguisher in the living room of the so-called Crack House.

I won’t forget how I had lunch with Walt Harris twice last summer – once with my mom who was thrilled to meet him. I’ll remember tailgating before football games and the last game ever at Pitt Stadium.

Every time I hear the song “Build Me Up, Buttercup” I’ll smile, sing along and know that, at some point or another, I have gotten many, many people at The Pitt News to sing it while walking through the streets of South Oakland. I’ll also always call them animal cookies, not animal crackers, and remember throwing them at people yelling, “Who wants a billygoat?”

Sometimes I’m not sure how people have put up with me for so long, but I’m grateful that they have. I thank those that have been there for me through the rough times and of course, the good as well. I am especially thankful for those who pushed me to go further, whether it be as a writer, an editor or a person.

Sometimes it took a challenge for me to realize my potential, and in particular, I’d like to thank Erin Brachlow, Shannon McLaughlin, Mario Machi, Dave Hartman, Brad Cuprik, Joe Marchilena and, yes, even Kenny Paul.

It’s been a crazy four years and I’m thankful for every minute of it.

Karen Bielak was the sports editor of The Pitt News and is thankful for all of the opportunities she has been given. She will miss everyone tremendously but leaves the reminder that sports are cool, boys are hot and hopes that everyone keeps in touch with extra special Bielak.