As I embarked upon my final piece as a Lanthorn sports writer, I could not help but become nostalgic. My years at Grand Valley State University have been nothing short of enjoyable. A month ago, I began thinking what my last words would say. I wanted to illustrate my most memorable moment, but that is not easy to accomplish when pinpointing my favorite day as a fan of the Lakers is not even easy.

I have covered nearly every sport, interviewed dozens of athletes and called countless coaches. I have written deadline stories that were in print only a few short hours later and taken long road trips just so I could remind another school’s students what loyalty means. I have even leaked inside stories about the football program before Athletics could make a press release (if you’re reading this, Mr. Selgo, please accept my apology). But none of these moments, as great as they were, made the final cut.

As sports writers, we tend to erase the humanity from the world of competitive sports and harshly prognosticate and pick apart athletes as if they were cattle on the butchering block. Yet, nothing humanizes the athletes quite like emotion.

Once, a female athlete called me for an interview while riding the team bus back to Allendale. The athlete had just endured a heartbreaking tournament loss that simultaneously ended the team’s season and her career at GVSU. Shortly into our conversation, her voice began to break and she could hold back no longer. That night, she reminded me of what it means to pour out one’s heart and soul, only to come up short.

On another occasion, a classroom discussion with a male athlete transformed from a friendly conversation to a priceless connection within the student-athlete. The point is that even in college, even at the Division II level, we sports fans sometimes forget that these student-athletes are just that: students. Like us.

Saturday, when the graduating members reflect on their time at GVSU, some will say the moment when they felt their strongest school pride was when they sacrificed a day to help clean up the grounds. Others will mention a particularly wild party or maybe even an inspirational speaker, but not me. Me, my school pride comes from the young men and women who gave me reason to cheer every time they stepped on the field. No matter where I may find myself in ten years, my allegiance will not falter.

The great golfer Ben Hogan famously said, “As you walk down the fairway of life you must smell the roses, for you only get to play one round.” Although I am nowhere near teeing off for the final time, the coaches, student-athletes and staff writers have made GVSU a sweet-smelling course. From the heart, I thank each and every one of you.

And ten years from now, when someone asks me if I am a Laker, the answer will be resounding.

Hell, yeah.

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