NEWSFLASH: I Am Retiring

  Yes, I'm retiring.  And starting over.  All at once.  And it's all good.

  I'm officially announcing that I am retiring from being a 6 and 10pm TV Sports Anchor--a career that I have, for the most part, thoroughly enjoyed over the last 25-years.  It's all I had ever wanted to do since I was an 8-year old--since the days as an 2nd-grader of turning down the TV and doing my own play-by-play, and turning a pencil eraser-side up and pretending it was a microphone.  It was a career that allowed me to do what I enjoyed for a living. A career that enabled me to meet, interview, and even get to know as  human beings some of the greatest athletes of the modern era, and staff some of the greatest events of  the 1990s and early 2000s--events from the Dallas Cowboys 1993 Super Bowl season, three BCS title games (1996 Fiesta Bowl: Nebraska vs. Florida; 2001 Orange Bowl: OU vs. Florida St.; 2006 Rose Bowl: Texas vs. USC), a Final Four, College Baseball World Series, College Softball World Series, 2006 NBA Finals, a golf major, two Cotton Bowls, the 2003 Rose Bowl, a Holiday Bowl, Alamo Bowl, 1999 Independence Bowl--which was THE LAST major football game of the 1900s, and many, many more events on the pro, college and high school levels--all of which were special in their unique way.  It was a career that, early on, took up most of my time--which was all right because I was single with no attachments.  It's a career that had me working nights, many weekends, and about half of the major holidays.  It was a career that I willingly sacrificed time with family and friends to hone the craft of TV sportscasting.  It was also all about me, my wants, my needs, and nobody else--a sacrifice of thinking of others as myself. And, that's a sacrifice that I'm no longer willing to make.

  The seed of my decision to retire for family reasons was planted back in college.  My fraternity rushed a kid who's dad was a popular TV sportscaster in my hometown of Oklahoma City.  I recognized his last name, and told him I wanted to be a sportscaster like his dad.  I'll never forget his sheepish laugh, the downward head nod, and then his verbal response: "Well, I hope you get to know your kids."  He then shook hands and walked away.

  I never forgot that.  I made a point to never forget that.

  I want it to sink in a little bit more.

  "I HOPE YOU GET TO KNOW YOUR KIDS."



  That conversation was almost 30-years ago.  I know it resonated for a reason: people mean more than events.  People mean more than bragging points.  People mean more than big names to drop.  People mean more, period--even though I ignored the this truth at the time.  Fast forward to today: my family means more than telling stories about other people more famous and/or accomplished than me--at least to the point where I see more of those people and my fellow co-anchors more than I see my wife and two children.

  I walked away from my last Sports Director job here in the Rio Grande Valley on March 1 of this year, and since have had the opportunity to not only spend more time with my wife and kids--but have had the chance to take my kids to school, pick them up, play with them extended periods of time, read **whole books** to them, and then get them ready for bed each night.  It has taken a great deal of stress off of my wife, who more or less a single parent ever since we brought our kids home, and basically in exchange for my salary--again, a sacrifice neither my wife nor I am willing to make anymore.

  There's more.  More that's not comfortable to talk about, but must be.

  I can't speak for anybody else, but I have to admit, now publicly, that I hid behind my career--largely because of what I referred to in my most previous blog post "Depression Gets Personal":  I used it for significance--to quiet that voice of, "You're sorry, and not matter what you do, you'll always be sorry".  What better way to not be "sorry" than to be able to say "but at least I'm more famous than you", that is, until you ran into someone more famous--which is why hiding behind fame backfires.  I used what little notoriety I had to get introductions, and then put out the hand so that you wouldn't find out my self worth was largely wrapped up in being the sports guy, that you wouldn't find out I was bored of small talk beyond about 3-minutes, that you wouldn't find out while I could talk sports and understand sports I was largely not very good at most sports, that you likely had (and have) a lot more life experience than I did about most anything other than sports.  It was a large burden to bear.  And even though that burden has eased over the years as I got to know myself and have been in recovery from depression for 18-years, it's a burden I'm not willing to bear anymore.

  Truth be told, I'm also tired.  Tired of a lot of things.  Tired of hiding behind my career, of being exclusively "The Sports Guy", tired of hiding behind the veneer of being "The Sports Guy", and most of all tired of ignoring important friendships and relationships because of the time it takes to be "The Sports Guy"--at least in my mind.  I abhor the thought of using people and loving things, of being ruthless more than relentless.  I was not the type to go to places "to be seen", to go out and drink and/or party with "the right people" to get ahead.  Ergo, I'm tired of the energy it takes to balance networking (which I enjoy) and brown-nosing (which I healthily ***hate***) to achieve my professional goal(s).   I'm tired of not getting to experience a deer hunt in November because it's football season. I'm tired of the mental exhaustion that set in after football and basketball season professionally along with the guilt of knowing that my wife and kids hardly saw me all the while I was driving myself to exhaustion.  After age 35, exhaustion takes its toll, and now, at 50, that kind of exhaustion--with all of the aforementioned points factored in-- is a sacrifice I'm not willing to make anymore.

  Make no mistake--I still love the craft of TV sportscasting, the craft of the storytelling, the opportunity to learn from people who make the pursuit of excellence a daily practice.  But it's a younger person's game--and perhaps that's why you see your sportscasters--and really your news and weather people as well--getting younger and younger.  It's a business more and more for people who are mobile and can move **right now**, who can afford to **live to work**--much like I did early and mid-way through my career.  I'm just not there anymore, and in the five months since my last day on the air, I haven't missed anything but the craft of the storytelling.  And, I can tell stories in many other ways other than being your 6 and 10pm sports anchor.

  Which, leads to the **starting over** part:  what's next?   Answer: I don't know--at least as far as full time work goes.

  I will continue to pursue free lance reporting opportunities, free lance writing opportunities, and any full time media opportunities that don't involve working nights (at least not every night).  I'm also exploring communications jobs for school districts, and any other entity that would benefit from my talents and experiences.  As many of you know, I also earned a personal trainer's certification last year, and have been a working personal trainer for the last three months--where I have re-discovered my love of teaching.  You'll also see frequent posts to this blog--something that was greatly hindered as a 6 & 10pm sports anchor--and again, that kind of hindrance is a sacrifice I'm not willing to make anymore.

 Lastly, I'm also not willing to sacrifice my faith anymore.  I am a Christian to the bone.  What you take from that after my affirmation is up to you.  For me--and only me in this post--it means putting faith and family before anything else & letting that drive what's next and what kind of income it'll produce, and of being relentless instead of ruthless.  And, in the end, it's God who will be glorified.  It's a scary thing not having any kind of a *sure thing** right now, but isn't that what faith is about?? A pursuit of what's not seen?  Talking about it one thing, doing is a whole other.  And, like my continuing battle with depression, making appearances over being real is a sacrifice I'm not willing to make anymore.   And, my faith is real to me, and as a testimony to my faith, and the promises I made to my wife and kids to put them first, retirement from doing 6 and 10 is a sacrifice I'm more than willing to make.