That’s the kind of reporter I am

So I catch VCU outfielder Kwan Evans in the lobby of GRC.

The baseball team had redeemed themselves after losing to George Mason 21-6 by beating the Patriots 18-8 to win the series.

“Were you there?” he asked me.

I had to tell him no.

“What kind of reporter are you,” he says, joking … I think.

Let’s see.

I’m the kind of reporter that’s written more than 30 stories for the CT, when I should have been writing 10 for Capital News Service.

I’m the kind of reporter that spends his Sunday watching the CAA tournament semifinals, knowing there’s a 15-page history paper due the next day and Jeff Capel probably isn’t going to bring up the mistakes of the Vietnam War in his press conference.

I’m also the kind of reporter that hops straight from my last class on Tuesday to drive to Petersburg, watch a 3-and-a-half hour baseball game, and get back home a little after midnight just in time to crack open my English book and fall asleep on it.

I’m the kind of reporter that’s spent more time in the Commonwealth Times production room than I have in my own bedroom.

I’m the kind of reporter with schoolwork, which I may or may not get done depending on who VCU is playing. I’m also the kind of reporter with responsibilities to the sports section. And like Michael Phelps trying to walk a straight line with his finger on his nose, I haven’t been able to find a balance.

Sure schoolwork has suffered here and there, and my sleep cycle starts with somewhere around 5 a.m. SportsCenter and ends with Cold Pizza four ours later.

But between waking up to Skip Bayliss and Stephen A. Smith, to running into VCU athletes like Kwan Evans and trying to stay on top of the education thing, I’ve learned a few things.

First, the sports section is important to somebody besides me. The CT office isn’t crowded with VCU athletes every Monday and Thursday, but the word eventually gets to them.

There are guys like Harold Mozingo that can pick up the section and say “nice story, but …” every issue.

The paper reaches out further to people like Paul Davis, father of VCU pitcher Marcus Davis. Paul sent me an e-mail recently because his son, who had started the 18-8 win over Mason but did not factor into the decision, wasn’t mentioned in the story despite mowing down seven Pats in just four innings.

True enough, it was Mick Mattaliano’s first win of the season, and it’s also true that Marcus has been in the paper more than those quarter-page Frito-Lay ads, but I understand his father’s concern.

Paul Davis’ e-mail was one event among dozens that let me know the sorts section mattered, at least a little.

Keasha Campbell sent me an e-mail to let me know about the success of VCU’s cheerleading squad at the National Cheerleaders Association collegiate nationals. The all-women team took first place at the competition in mid-April and the co-ed team took second place.

That did not make the paper. It should have, and so should a bunch of other stories.

There’s the story of Gonzolo Segares VCU’s award-winning defender who was drafted by the Chicago Fire. He had to have had one of the cooler winter breaks on campus, going from Richmond to his home in Costa Rica back to Richmond to St. Louis to be among the other Hermann Trophy finalists to Richmond to Chicago for workouts and the MLS draft all in about two weeks.

There’s the story of VCU midfielder Ricardo Valverde, who spent the early part of 2004 recovering from the anterior cruciate ligament injury he suffered in practice the day before the start of the 2003 season. He worked his way back onto the field and played in the Rams’ first nine games before tearing the ACL in his other leg.

He was worried about whether he’d be able to play next year or if he could pick up more eligibility. The physical pain wasn’t much, considering he’d been there before. But unlike the first tear when he had no friends or family to take care of him, his mother came up from Costa Rica.

Great story. Never told it.

Then there’s second baseman Scott Sizemore who apparently traded in his standard issue aluminum Louisville Slugger for a Phantom Menace-grade light saber. Sizemore has been splitting the ball in half this season, at one point hitting .500 through 16 games. The paper should have had something on the guy, like what he eats for breakfast.

I wanted to write about the burden student athletes carry, having to balance their studies with their games. I wanted to write about the student-athlete that’s more athlete than student, with a single-minded focus of playing pro ball only. Then there’s the opposite, like Lauren Hogan, who led the Rams in scoring and rebounding but apparently has professional aspirations beyond the court after spending the summer between her sophomore and junior years as a public relations intern.

I wanted to write about steroids and baseball, and not in the majors. I wanted to see what was going on here, but beyond the rumblings there wasn’t a lot that could be proved.

I wanted to write about the best gym to get a run–Siegel or Cary–which league has the best intramural rivalry–and Greek league or A league basketball–and what does VCU have coming back next year.

Instead, I have to write six to eight pages on Mrs. Dalloway by Virginia Woolf.

“I’m the kind of reporter with classes,” I said to Kwan.