This is my day

by Paul Shugar
Staff Writer

Today is my day.

I get out of bed on the right hand side, never the left. I have my bed set up so I can only get out of my bed on the right hand side. The last time I got out of bed on the left hand side I split so many verbs it was not funny.

On my way down the stairs I run through the gauntlet of legends. I pat pictures of Rick Reilly and Dick Schaap, may their skills be with me. I sit down to a breakfast of Alpha-Bits cereal. You never know when a great new word comes to you. I am still convinced this method helped Miami find their new nickname.

After breakfast it is time for the mirror test. I do not stop staring until I have found my game face. I repeat, "So coach explain your choice to go from the 1-3-1 zone to man in the middle of the 10-2 run."

I dress in the same manner. The routine is simple: socks, boxers, undershirt, polo shirt then pull on the khakis and fill the pockets with pens. You can never have enough pens.

I touch the keyboard on my way to the car. My editor once said that whoever is going into the field of battle ready to give a 110 percent could touch his keyboard. I will not let him down.

On the way to the stadium I play "Hero of the Day," by Metallica on my CD player. I drive the whole way singing each syllable at the top of my lungs. I scream,"This is my day! THIS IS MY DAY!”

After composing myself and straightening the hair I strut into the stadium. That swagger alone strikes fear into the heart of my journalism counterparts in the press box. They know it, I know it and everybody else should know it. I came to play today.

There’s no time to trade stories by the water cooler. I am here to focus on one thing alone, the game. I grab my simple pre-game meal of cheese pizza and Mountain Dew. The Mountain Dew keeps the mind alert.

I always go with the cheese pizza, never the pepperoni even though it is my favorite. The last time I ate pepperoni pizza my sentences were too wordy. But this lunch is no sit back and enjoy lunch.

 This lunch is a power lunch. I put in my time watching tape. I know everybody on the opposing team, their style of play and whether or not they prefer blondes or brunettes. I need to learn more. I flip through media guides committing it to memory.

While the players shoot around I warm up my writing hand. I write a few leads. I can already tell I am hot today. Every noun, verb and adjective is falling into place. People who say they just get into the zone should know better.

I know good pregame preparation leads to a proper mindset and puts you in the zone. My words flow eloquently and I tone it down and write a few headlines. No reason to use all this energy now. I decide to save it for the game.

Then a quick trip to the bathroom reminds me that I am the man. The mirror shivers when it looks at my game face. It knows how ready I am.

I time my entrance to perfectly coincide with the entrance of the team to the court. I feel the roar of the crowd raise goose bumps in my skin. I feel a sense of nervousness rise in my throat. Today is game day though, as soon as I start my notes the feeling will be gone.

I write another Pulitzer lead in another abbreviated warm up before tip-off. I cock my hat to the left and open up my notebook. Always write from the back to the front of the notebook. Everything about today feels right and here comes a Pulitzer article about a Pulitzer game.

I give a nod to the gods and sit back to watch a stellar game. I return home that night not yet knowing how to rate my performance. I stare into the mirror searching myself for any doubts. Again it shivers. Today I played like Schaap.

– Shugar is a junior journalism major who has scared many a few people by screaming "THIS IS MY DAY" outside the Convo. Send him an e-mail at azucar2442@hotmail.com