Now that I'm approaching my one-year anniversary at the Ottumwa Courier I figure now is as good a time as any to write in a retrospective vein.
When I first arrived in Ottumwa, a place I didn't know existed until I sent the Courier my job resume, I had no idea what to expect. So, I channeled my inner Jimmy Buffett, and decided that only time would if this would be time well spent.
Now, with an array of experiences and a potpourri of memories stored in my brain, I can honestly say my time here has certainly been well spent.
Since the end of last April, I've got to watch Sydney Strunk and Cody McConnell run; and Carter Burns, all 6-6 of him, knock down 3-pointers and slam dunk a basketball; and Sammy Garrett spray singles and doubles all over the baseball diamond; and C.J. Ray rip a forehand down the line; and Paige Schreiner throw someone out from shortstop; and Katie Sammons spike a volleyball; and Matthew Walker drive his second shot just inches from the pin. I've got to watch Seth Griffiths and Alec Maas crease through the Bulldogs' offensive line and scamper for touchdowns; and Olivia Roark knock down two 3-pointers to send a game into overtime; and Frank Huston coaching up his softball team; and Karsten Van Velsor methodically dominating his opponent until the poor soul's shoulders were invariably pinned to the mat; and Bailey Palmer bowl strike after strike after strike.
Covering the Bulldogs has never suffered from a lack of fun, although I concede that there are certainly vocations that trump sports writing in terms of importance and prominence. If I mess up a statistic the worst thing that can happen is I will get chewed out by Johnny football's mom for soiling her son's future scrapbook. I feel bad, sure, but Western civilization will go on.