Defending my second major

When I started at Columbia, I had absolutely no idea what my major was going to be, but I knew Spec was going to be a central part of my college experience. In fact, on the first day of the Columbia Outdoor Orientation Program—affectionately known as COÖP to those of us who know and love it—I unwittingly sealed my fate. While biking with the illustrious Carolyn Braff, she told me all about her experience writing football for Spectator and how amazing it was. I told her right then and there that I was going to take her job as football beat writer when she graduated, and I would do her one better—I was going to be sports editor.

And that’s exactly what happened. Call me crazy, but for better or for worse, I’m a man of my word. Ever since that day, even before I declared myself a history major, I’ve always told anyone who asked that I was a double major, with Spec being one of those majors.

It probably sounds strange for me to list an extracurricular activity as a major, but it makes total sense to me. I’ve written about as many, if not more, words for Spec as I have for all my classes combined. I’ve spent 100 times as many hours in the Spec office than in Butler. I’m planning on going into journalism, so my experience as a writer and an editor is arguably more important than my history major.

So if I’m going to count Spec as a major, I guess this must be my thesis, or at least some other kind of important final paper. Much like many of the other Spec Sports seniors, I’ve been mulling over the topic of my senior column for the better part of the past three years, and recently, I decided that if I’m going to call Spec a major, I should at least outline some of the things that I’ve learned in my four years of writing and editing.

First of all, I learned how to write. I thought I had the writing thing all figured out after breezing through high school and being the sports editor of my high school paper. I couldn’t have been more wrong. Just read this quote from my first Spec article, a recap of Columbia’s 2005 football season—thank God this never made it into print:

“The porous defense allowed an average of 41.9 points per game during conference play, and that amount coupled with the 10 points per game that the offense pitched in is a more calamitous combination than Red Sox fans at a Yankee game.”

Oh, you think that’s bad? I remember initially trying to make the comparison somehow involve Wile E. Coyote and Acme, but I just couldn’t make it work. Looking back, I really should have been laughed out of the sports office and been made the poster child for how not to write. Luckily for my dignity, then-sports editor Joshua Robinson only chuckled a little, told me that I had some good ideas, and said we just needed to polish it up. He explained to me what needed to be changed, actively involved me in the editing process, and made it very clear that he wanted to keep my voice as a writer intact.

From there—at least as far as I can tell—my confidence grew and my writing became better. I learned the infamous inverted pyramid style, where you start with the most important information at the top of the story and add in the details as you get further down. I learned AP style and strictly adhered to its regulations as much as I could, including the God-awful words “Web site,” which were mercifully changed to “website” only recently by the good folks at AP. With time, my writing took on a more nuanced form, which would never have been possible without the help of all the people at Spectator—the editors, associate editors, copy staff—who diligently worked with me to improve my writing, for which I could not be more grateful.

Another important lesson I learned at Spectator was that journalism is not a business of words on pages—it’s a business of people, and any time you’re working with people, great communication is of the utmost importance. There’s no way that this paper—which I affectionately call the Daily Miracle—could ever work if it were not for teamwork, as well as great internal and external communication.

When I took on the mantle of sports editor, I realized something that had previously not really affected me—the sports section did not have the best relationship with the athletic department. I had a meeting with Athletic Director M. Dianne Murphy and essentially left with the dual message that my predecessors had not done much to build the trust of the athletic department, and that if I were going to change that, lines of communication needed to be created and maintained.

I took that information and applied it not only to the sports section’s interactions with the AD, but with the paper on the whole, where Sports kind of stands on its own and is either ignored or despised by the rest of the office. It’s not hard to understand why others might have felt that way: The corner office was always filled with loud-mouthed, hard-drinking, fairly crude people who cared about Columbia sports way more than anyone should, and they really didn’t understand us. I can’t say that that gap will ever be closed, or that I even want it to be, but there’s no reason we all can’t work together and be civil. And during my year as sports editor, I think teamwork and civility were achieved.

Though communication brought the sports section and the paper as a whole together, it was my time as one of the football beat writers that really taught me about communication. At the end of my sophomore year, one of my fellow beat writers, Taylor Harwin, wrote what many of us at Spec still consider to be the greatest senior column of all time. However, head coach Norries Wilson took offense to some of the things that Taylor said, and decided that during the next season, he wasn’t going to grant the football writers from Spectator the privilege of having an interview outside of postgame press conferences.

Throughout the season, my co-writer Holly MacDonald and I worked with Sports Information Director Darlene Camacho to try to convince Wilson to allow us to have a weekly mid-week meeting with him like we had in the past, so that we could have quotes for our stories during the week. Because of our communication with Darlene and the trust that we built with her and the AD by writing fair stories—they weren’t all positive, considering the team finished 2-8, but they were all rooted in fact—Wilson decided to reinstitute the weekly meetings for the 2009 season. During that season, Darlene went out of her way on multiple occasions for us because of the relationship we had built through being honest, fair, and creating open dialogue. That’s the kind of situation that journalists should aspire to, and I’m very glad to have had that experience.

The final important thing I learned while working for Spec is that journalism is not dying, it’s evolving—and I don’t just say that because I have a concentration in evolutionary biology of the human species. Print journalism may have taken some hits in the past few years, but if Spec is any indication, it’s not going anywhere. Since joining Spec, the website has blossomed into a great, accessible tool that buttresses the paper. The full integration of Spectrum, multimedia projects, Twitter, and the expected great content of the print edition is something that no Speccie could have dreamt of even just a year or two ago. I’m proud to say that I played a role, albeit small, in all of that, and I only expect things to get better. While there are people willing to adapt and innovate, there will always be print journalism, and there will always be Spectator.

Now that my final column has been written, it’s time for me to thank some of the people who have made my time here at Spectator both enjoyable and memorable.

First and foremost, I’d like to thank anyone who has ever read any of my work. The fact that you’ve read this far probably indicates that you’ve kept up with my writing, and I truly appreciate that. It can be easy to forget that people read the paper, but whenever I received a comment on campus or online, it always meant a lot to me.

Kamran and Josh: You guys pulled me into Spectator and helped me become the writer and editor I am today. Like I said earlier, I’m glad you guys didn’t laugh me out of the office.

Braff and Taylor: The four football games you guys brought me to freshman year made me feel so cool and welcomed. Thanks for imparting your knowledge and being available for guidance as the years went on.

D Max, August, and JTay: I wanted to write separate things for each of you, but they all would have sounded generally the same. You three set a great example for our class and gave more to Spectator than any of you were asked. Whenever we go to Atlantic City, I owe you guys a drink.

Shapiro: You sir, are a gentleman and a scholar. Your wittiness and spunk have always been great additions to your intellectual prowess, and I’m going to miss all the laughs. We leave the Joe Bova toast as our legacy. My only regret is that we never went to a non-Columbia sporting event together.

Lisa and Holly: First of all, I’m not the instigator—we’ll debate this later. In all seriousness, you two made my experience at Spec as great as it was. The road trips, quests for dank pancakes, late nights, dinners, and that’s what she saids are what I’m going to remember most fondly about my life at Spec, and you two were there every step of the way. I know these words aren’t enough, but thanks for being the best friends a guy could ask for.

My suite: I can’t thank you guys (and girl!) enough for giving me a safe haven away from Spec. These past four years have been a wild ride, and I’m blessed to have shared them with you. Here’s to tonight and our last few weeks together.

Andrea: You know more about the behind-the-scenes of Spec than any non-Speccie ever should. Thanks for putting up with me for all these years, thanks in advance for all the years ahead where you’ll continue putting up with me, and congrats on finishing your second marathon!

I’ve probably forgotten about 350 people, and I can’t mention everyone, but there are a few more I have to thank specifically. Tami, Chuckles, Joe Bova, Tom, Sebba, Ben, Yipeng, Haley, Maddy, DD and the copy gang, Bart, Levenfeld, Sarah, Michele, Jelani, and the rest of the sports section, thanks for everything.

Matt Velazquez is a Columbia College senior majoring in history.
sports@columbiaspectator.com