I was 14 and wanted nothing more. The summer of 1994, new tape recorder in hand, my only desire was to be a sports announcer.
Years earlier, I started sneaking into the rickety press box at Princeton University’s Baker Rink. I bored the everything out of my parents as I pretended to give play-by-play of the teams on the ice directly after mine.
But it was that tape recorder, a birthday gift I recall, that felt like a gateway to the mythical broadcasting Hall-of-Fame.
Fast forward to the present and my dreams, as they often do, twisted themselves into a more realistic reality. No complaints, no regrets, but still the crumb of wonder if I ever could have turned that desire into my profession.
A recent discovery brings this to my mind. I discovered the tape from that summer of 1994. It includes my attempt to “broadcast” the Indianapolis 500 from the front grandstand of the famous speedway.
My voice, is considerably higher. My skills, extremely raw. No one would confuse this audio with a “Miracle on Ice”. Perhaps, the miracle this tape reveals is what was a tiny, teenaged dream actually did turn into a broadcasting career.
Just not the one I imagined.