So I am a writer now...sort of

I have a friend that has a local website that updates local news and such for our small community. So one day I was with my basketball playing daughter and was keeping score for her when I had a thought of relaying the information on the game to my friend so he could give a report just after the event happened. So I wrote up a few paragraphs briefly outlining the game, high scorer and such and e-mailed it to him. A couple of minutes later my "crack"berry beeped that I had mail. So there is my friend asking where I got that information from. I sent back to him "from the game?". He then sends me another message that says, "yes but from which publication?". So I replied "from my Blackberry". Needless to say we were both not very bright when it came to reading between the lines or my friend did not think I have the skills to actually formulate an article in 300 words or less. After I did that one he asked if I could do the boys game later in the evening and I agreed and it was then and there I became a member of the media.

It all happened so fast, I did not have time to pick up a press pass and even less time to get a fedora to stick it in its braided hat band, I actually had to pay to get into the game. I did not have a tweed blazer or a pen and a notepad so I am not even sure I could call myself a reporter, but I just did what I could with my "crack"berry and the plain old clothes I had on, sans hat even.

I thought this was pretty cool, sending in reports of the game and then seeing them on the website with my name as a contributor to the article. But with each article came the pressure of trying to make it better than the last. I ran out of snazzy catch phrases. I ran out of adjectives to describe a play. And to my horror I had to start repeating the same old words I had used before. So I started working harder to enhance my writing to be able to entertain and inform my many readers (4 I think currently) and hopefully attract the eye of some writers agent who will whisk me away to write for some large conglomerate of magazines who will put my words in front of millions of people.

Then as I was finishing up my report to send in on a game this week, my daughter made a comment that ruined all my dreams and aspirations. She said, "the girls and I were reading your article and laughing at your descriptions..." She said more than that but I pretty much tuned her out once I heard the "laughing" part. They were laughing with me, or at me? I was not sure, I suddenly became self conscious of my writing. Was "slicker than an eel slathered in motor oil" a good description of a neat play or was it an object of laughter to my readers. So I thought of rewriting my article, to get serious and focused... then I thought to myself, who am I fooling. I am a hack who happens to have a "crack"berry and strong thumbs, who has a friend that is willing to post my articles and if my daughter laughs at my writing, well then she is not laughing necessarily at me like she normally does.

So next time you read about a shot that "brought rain from the heavens", a foul that "shook the very foundation of the underworld", a win that brought "glorious eruptions of ecstatic joy:" just enjoy the images that it creates in your head, and try not to laugh...to hard.