Another high school sports season has officially come to a close. All of the sudden, I’m finding myself looking for things to do.
The grass needs to be mowed. I know this because I lost my household 5-year-old the other day when she was playing outside.
That household 5-year-old just happens to be my Jack Russell terrier, who was located when her head emerged from the knee-high blades of grass outside my place in New Castle.
The place needs to be vacuumed almost daily from her constant shedding at this time of year. To top it off, there’s a stack of dishes sitting in the sink that’s starting to smell.
I can’t believe I just admitted that.
Things like this tend to happen when you’re putting in 60-plus hour work weeks trying to keep track of all of the high school sports in an area comparable to the square mileage of the state of Rhode Island. I guess I shouldn’t complain. I have a job that I love, which is a lot more than some people in this world can claim.
Every season brings new memories that stick with you. Some are good. Some you’d like to forget, but never do. Some take on meanings of their own down the road, giving you a chance to take triumphs and tribulations you’ve experienced and relate them to things that are happening now.
There are lots of happy times to go along with lots of sappy times. Sometimes those things run together, like when someone begins crying uncontrollably after their team reached the state tournament.
For those of you who I’ve interviewed who fall into that category, you know who you are.
But it seems like, as the old saying goes, “The more things change, the more they stay the same.” People cried after winning state relay championships this year just like they did 20 years ago when I was in high school. The big difference is that, unlike now, we couldn’t take selfies at the finish line with our phones or send out news over the Internet in what has become more and more of a what-have-you-done-for-me-lately society.
I could easily tweet about that. LOL. #Iamstartingtoshowmyage
I’ll admit. Someone asked me a while back, “Do you tweet?” I thought it was some kind of drug. Little did I know at the time how some people get addicted to that.
I’ll also admit that, in my mind, I thought being on Twitter screamed self-promotion, which I’m very bad at. So in my shameless plug for the year, it would be cool to have a few more followers @JonMitchellPI.
There. I’m glad that’s out of the way.
But I am glad that social media is around for the benefits it has. If a high school kid does something athletically cool, there’s a way to tell masses of people about it right away before expanding on it by devoting 20 to 25 column inches into the paper, which, by the way, people still run to grab the morning it comes out. That’s especially true when something big happens.
It’s nice to give props to people who deserve it, just like it’s good to just as quickly point out when something isn’t right.
It’s also nice to be busy, as I was for nine months during the prep sports season. Busy means job security. Too busy means mistakes are made, but that’s another story.
As for me right now, it’s kind of nice being kind of bored. Granted, there’s plenty of CrossFit studs, running studs and other studs out there to whom I’ll probably give a lot of ink over the summer. For right now, it’s nice to kind of kick back for a moment.
Right after I mow the lawn, that is.
Sports Editor Jon Mitchell would like to say thanks to all of the people in Garfield County who have helped him a bunch since he came back here to cover the area sports scene. He can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org, or by phone at 970-384-9123.