By DJ Ramirez | Sports Editor
Dear Readers,
I don’t even know where to begin.
Y’all know that moment when you’re sleeping and all of a sudden it feels like you’re falling so it startles you awake? I keep waiting for that moment. I keep waiting to wake up and realize it was all just a really annoying dream.
But so far that hasn’t happened.
Even before I became a sports journalist, sports had a big impact on the rhythm of my life. I know that a lot of people will relate when I say everything just feels out of sync without the consistency that sports brings to our lives. The uncertainty is scary.
On Wednesday I woke up knowing that I was going to be on my way to Kansas City the next day and that I needed to finish packing. When I was given the news that spring break was extended and that classes would move online, fear began to creep in. I could feel the inevitable coming.
I was angry when I was told we weren’t covering the Big 12 tournament anymore. I had canceled my spring break plans to work. Then everything began to unravel and by Friday there were no more sports to watch or cover.
I did what most people do when they’re upset about something they can’t control: I called my friends and I called my mother. And like most parents do when their kids are being immature and unreasonable, my mom put things in perspective for me.
I couldn’t be so selfish to believe that I was the only one being affected. The pandemic was no longer something that was far away; it was at our backdoor. Then I began to think about all the people in my life that had a high risk of being severely affected by the virus. So many people in my family have high blood pressure or diabetes or other risk factors like that. This was a matter of life and death, and that hit me like a ton of bricks.
I had to be stronger than the anger and the fear. I had to accept that I couldn’t control what was happening, only how I reacted. I had to remember that just because God was closing the door didn’t mean there weren’t any windows left open.
It didn’t stop me from feeling sad and a little heartbroken. But I do understand that it was necessary.
Losing baseball was probably the hardest to come to terms with. From the first time I stepped foot into Baylor Ballpark, it automatically became my favorite place in all of Waco.
More than anything I felt for the athletes and the people that relied on athletic events to make a living. I felt for the seniors especially. After working for so long to achieve their goals and get their last chance as college athletes taken away— it wasn’t fair.
This situation has only served to remind me why my job as a journalist is important. We may not have games to cover, but the athletes, coaches and staff still have stories that need and deserve to be told.
To all the athletes, whether you play Division I or club sports for Baylor, we want to continue telling your stories. To all the cheerleaders, spirit squad members, graduate assistants, video assistants, photographers and interns, we want to know how this is affecting you too. So here’s my open invitation for y’all. If you want to share your thoughts with us, write to us, let us know directly or let your sports information directors know so they can help us set up interviews with y’all.
To our readers: all of our content will be strictly online until most likely August. Thank you for picking up our print editions. Our blood, sweat and tears goes into designing those pages. Please continue to read the Lariat, and we will still be there for y’all as well.
Sincerely,
DJ Ramirez | Sports Editor
