As I sit at my desk and ponder on how to write a piece that captures the depth of my feelings for leaving this paper and campus, I find myself glancing at the wall to my left. This wall was once a barren TH eggshell color, but now it is covered with a collage of my sports articles from over the years. The mixture of gray and faded yellow pages each captures the wide range of stories and emotions that sports can evoke.
My eyes keep lingering on one article in particular now: my first ever article for The Misc, “Chicago Native reflects on Bears Fandom.” The piece was not really about how the Bears squeaked out an ugly Week 1 win against the Titans. It was not even really about football at all. The story surrounded me and my friend Gavin Akoto ’25 and the ritual we built around watching our team every Sunday. Week after week for three years, regardless of how catastrophic the Bears’ season was going, we would sit together and cheer on the Bears; we would celebrate the wins together and share the anguish and insults from friends after all of the hysterical Bears losses.
This is the power of sports. There are few things in our world that hold the unifying power of sports. Sport has the ability to bring people together from different races, religions or creed and focus on one thing for a few fleeting hours. Sport strips away every stresser, obligation and distraction from the outside world and demands our full presence. In that presence, we celebrate together, suffer together and walk away after the final whistle has blown more connected to one another than before. Sport gives us a reason to send a text to a friend, to make a joke in a group chat or debate for hours on end. Sport shows us how fun it is to win—to have hard work pay off. Sport also teaches us that there will be setbacks and losses, but what matters most is how we respond and come back for the next season, game, play, point. In the presence that sport provides, we realize that at the end of the day, who wins and who loses does not matter; what matters is the people.
This is what kept me coming back to The Misc. I loved writing about scores and statistics, but as time went on, I became far more interested in the people behind the stat sheet. My eyes are skipping from article to article on the wall to my left again, and I am realizing that across my 23 articles, the end result of the game was never the driver of the story. I see an article about an implausible underdog victory, another one about an athlete battling back from a grueling injury and another about the reflections of an athlete playing in their final game. None of these stories could ever be fully captured by a box score. The people make the story; sports simply provides the setting where the story unfolds.
My eyes have found the wall again, but this time they linger on that thin long piece of paper in the middle: The Misc’s masthead. The Misc has an abundance of wonderful, kind and talented people who have earned their names in the rafters. To the rookies, Armaan, David and Holland, the Sports section could not have a better triumvirate of sharp, creative ball-knowers to take the helm. I am so excited to see where you all take it next year. To the Chiefs, Carina and Alli, I am grateful for your tolerance of Henry and I’s unorthodox methods and for granting us the freedom to make the section what it is today. To Luke, Dasha, Madeleine, Kathryn, Yaksha, Clara, Soren and all of the other editors and writers at The Misc, thank you for making this paper a joyful place where everyone feels welcomed and important. To Nick Villamil ’25, you are the blueprint for what a Sports Editor should be. Thank you for pushing me to be a better writer and person. Lastly, to Henry, my partner in crime and best bud, thank you for convincing me to step out of my comfort zone and join you at The Misc. I genuinely cannot imagine my college experience without our friendship. You are one of the most bright, driven and caring people I have ever met, and I cherish all of the laughter and memories that we have enjoyed together.
I keep looking over at the wall beside my desk, trying to understand why it feels so difficult to leave this paper and this school behind. I will eventually have to take the articles down, but I will carry with me the moments and friendships that came with them. The writing is on the wall now, literally. Still, I cannot help but feel incredibly grateful that The Miscellany News became such a meaningful part of my time at Vassar.