Moving to Georgia forced me out of my comfort zone.
That doesn’t go for just in life, but at work — as I’ve mentioned before.
Recently my bosses wanted to see how I handled the responsibility of designing the A section. Yes, the front page and all of that good stuff.
Was I nervous? I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t. Mainly because it was new.
There was a certain buzz around Athens, Georgia earlier this week.
As soon as the Georgia Bulldogs dismantled Missouri last Saturday, the town’s focus shifted to Tuesday’s home finale against none other than Kentucky. Yes, those Wildcats who are kind of good at college basketball (29-0 at the time, No. 1 in the nation and expected to steamroll the field in the NCAA Tournament).
Long before the regular season reached the home stretch, several pundits said Georgia had the best shot at ending Kentucky’s perfect run. While the Wildcats are a super team full of McDonald’s All Americans, the scrappy Bulldogs use enough motion on both ends to where it could throw that kind of team for a loop.
When I moved to Georgia, I knew the days of my byline appearing daily in the newspaper were gone — at least for time being. That was no longer my job.
Once you’re bitten by the writing bug, like I was at a very young age (but more on that later), it’s impossible to go back to a non-prose life. Melodramatic? Sure. Yet there is just some incredible feeling associated with eloquently piecing together words, whether or not it’s behind a byline.
There are few feelings as gratifying as hitting a groove.
Any current or former athlete can attest to that statement.
Now that I’m out of my truly competitive days as an athlete — weekly trips to play disc golf notwithstanding — I try to find my rhythm other places. Recently, that spot has been in front of my computer at the Athens Banner-Herald.
When I moved to Georgia, I temporarily struggled with the idea of being on desk full-time. As I stated before, I loved every aspect of beat writing — from the chase to the break and everywhere in between — so it took me a few weeks to settle down.
Practice basket at Little Mulberry Park in Dacula, Georgia.
Who knew Georgia had such a strong disc golf scene?
Seriously, though. Who knew?
Back in Texas, there were more than enough courses within driving distance of San Marcos. I routinely spent time on Texas State University’s 21-hole tract, Steeplechase Park in nearby Kyle and on occasion, Circle C Metropolitan Park (which features two holes that are more than 800 feet in length).
Once I moved to Georgia, I bought some new discs — mainly because my old ones had seen better days and were overly friendly with jagged rocks — and searched Google for nearby courses. I couldn’t believe my eyes: They were everywhere.
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