As I sat in the gray uncomfortable chairs, surrounded by reporters who have known each other for years, I couldn’t help but feel like an outsider. Despite my doubts and fears, I meticulously ensured that my appearance was perfect and took diligent notes. When the game ended, reporters rushed to set up cameras and grab front-row seats at the press conference. I positioned myself, steadied my voice, and asked questions, trying to ignore the feeling of judgment around me.
A male reporter even complimented me on asking a technical question, which made me wonder if he was surprised by my capabilities. After the presser, I reveled in crafting stories, focusing on finding the right words and balancing gameplay and metaphors, despite the anxiety that sometimes comes with it. Seeing my name under the headline brought me immense joy and a sense of accomplishment. The pride I felt from finishing a story that I knew was better than my last one made all the panic worthwhile.
As the deadline approached, I rushed to finish the story, relishing in the stress and the feeling of being the last to leave. Despite all of this pressure and anxiety, I wouldn’t have it any other way because these moments of pride and satisfaction were why I had chosen this path. As the buzz of gameday faded away, I would start preparing for the next one
