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Why I love sports

What's Going Downey

By Tom Downey, Former Sports Editor

I don't love sports because I'm some kind of great athlete. I'm far from one. I can hold my own in a pickup game of just about any sport, but I'm not going to dominate. I'm a little too short, a little too slow and a little too weak. That's not a combination for athletic success or prowess.

And yet, I love sports because it's the only place I truly feel confident. The only place I truly feel comfortable.

When I came to Miami University four far-too short years ago, I didn't really know what I wanted to do.

One of the first things I did was sign up to write for The Miami Student. Reflecting on it now, I can't recall why. My days as an actual, competitive athlete were over, but I wanted to stay in the sports realm. I know I have a keen understanding for how sports are played, even if I couldn't always execute on the field or court.

I started as the volleyball beat writer. I wasn't good. In fact, I sucked. I had zero previous sports writing experience, so I made it up as I went along like it was a high school research paper. I put forth the effort, but I just wasn't very good at what I was doing.

So when I applied to be the hockey beat writer, I didn't think I'd actually get it. It was a way to show the then-sports editor, JM Rieger, that I was serious about this and wanted to get better.

And then I got the gig, even though I wasn't ready for it.

I'd never been to a press conference. I was familiar with hockey to the extent that a Tottenham Hotspur fan is familiar with the San Antonio Spurs.

And I was terrified of Enrico Blasi.

I was an 18-year-old college freshman with no real idea of what I was doing. Blasi was a legend who had assuredly forgotten more about hockey than I knew.

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Interviewing Blasi was the first time I didn't feel comfortable and confident in the sports world. It wasn't fun. It wasn't enjoyable.

It was the best thing that ever happened to me at Miami.

I learned as much from my time with Blasi and the Miami hockey team as I did from any class. My homework was learning the game by watching as much NHL and playing as much NHL 12 as I could. I had an exam every time I talked to Blasi. I failed plenty early on, but by the end, I was at least finding a way to pass.

Chuck Martin will always be my favorite during my time at Miami because of his humor and his honesty, but Blasi will always be the most important. I've never gotten the impression he likes me much, but without him, I'm nowhere near where I am today.

During that hockey season, JM convinced me to start working with WMSR, the student radio station. I don't really know what the hell he was thinking.

See, I have this stutter.

Not everyone picks up on it. The perceptive ones do. Those close to me do. And I do.

It's not debilitating, but I hate it. I stumble through words, especially ones that start with "r" and "t." "RedHawks" too often becomes "R-R-R-RedHawks." Sometimes the words take forever to come out. It's the first syllable followed by enough time for Austin Czarnik to deke and dangle from one end of the ice to the other and backhand the biscuit in top-shelf, thin mint style.

Or at least that's what it feels like.

Friends tell me it's not that bad. That it's worse in my head. Maybe they're right. Or they're just trying to be nice.

I hear it when I transcribe my interviews. I hear it when I talk to friends. I hear it when I'm uncomfortable and not confident. My voice stuttering and stumbling through questions and conversations.

I don't hear it when I'm calling a game.

I don't know what JM was thinking when he convinced me to start, but I'm sure glad he did.

I was terrified during my first game. I offered maybe one or two comments during the first half of it. But, by the time baseball season rolled around, I was already in love.

When I was a kid, I'd watch Bengals games with my Dad, and the TV was often muted. We'd talk throughout the games. I didn't realize it at the time, but we were essentially our own color commentators.

Maybe that's part of the reason the stutter isn't prevalent when I'm calling games: because I've always been comfortable and confident talking sports.

The stutter will occasionally show up during a pre-game, half-time or post-game spot, but it's not there during the play-by-play. I think it's because the stutter is at least part mental. I don't think during broadcasts. I just say what I see.

I don't remember what I said during a broadcast, especially during the most intense, dramatic and important moments. When I go back and listen to those moments, there isn't a stutter to be found.

Hockey is my favorite sport to call. I'm not sure it's my best sport, but nothing compares to it. Watching hockey on TV doesn't do the sport justice and I'm sure listening on the radio doesn't either. The action is non-stop. There is no other place or time I talk as fast as I do during a hockey game. I don't stutter during those games because there simply isn't time to. The game is moving too fast and I've get to keep up. I love it.

The last Miami hockey game I called was my favorite. It was the NCHC Championship game. A Miami win. I don't remember any of the goals called. I don't remember what I said in the final few seconds. I'm like the athletes who are in "the zone," who blackout and can't really recall what they did.

But I know I did well. I have the messages from listeners to prove it. I know there is no stutter. I don't need to go back and listen to the call to know that.

The call wasn't my favorite because Miami won.

It was my favorite because in a once-in-a-lifetime moment, calling a championship game, I was confident and comfortable with no stutter.