The unenviable job of a sports fan

NEW ULM -- During high school, I used to dread writing papers. Procrastinating was not only my lifestyle but also my motto.

English papers, chemistry papers, history papers -- it didn't matter. I didn't discriminate; all were put off until late the night before they were due.

There's just something about an impending deadline that motivates a guy.

Little did I know, but this "bad habit," as all the authority figures in my life called it, turned out to be beneficial, thus far anyway. That's because I am now the newest addition to the long line of illustrious sportswriters at The Journal.

This title (see the picture), though, is not all fame and fortune. There is quite a bit of actual work that comes with this summer job before I head off into the real world of college and all-nighters and writing more papers than I can even imagine at this point.

Had I known about the "work" when I applied to become a (cue music, that means, imagine music playing now) sportswriter at The Journal, I might have just been content to watch sporting events all summer, rather than to watch AND write about them.

Some people just have no idea about the rigors of the job. Any conversation that begins with, "So, I see you're writing for The Journal now, huh?" is surely to be followed by, "It must be tough watching baseball and softball all summer."

No, it really isn't.

I can't begin to tell you how great it is. I absolutely love it.

I haven't paid to get into a baseball game all summer. How cool is it to get to watch baseball for free, you may ask?

Well, when a game goes into extra innings, the paying masses who actually paid hard-earned money to get into the game start cheering, "Yes, free baseball!" When a game begins, I commence asking myself, hey, free baseball. How'd I manage this?

That's when it hits me. Not only do I get to watch baseball free of charge, I get PAID to watch baseball.

No, really. It's true.

I actually get to write down on my timecard the hours during which I'm watching a game. I really do feel kind of guilty after an exhausting night of viewing pitching masterpieces, seeing-eye singles, amazing catches, doubles down the line, triples off the wall, long balls, and strike 'em out, throw 'em out double plays, and then getting paid for it.

Every time I walk out onto Minnesota Street after another "strenuous" night at the grindstone, I get hit with a twinge of conscience. Is this ethically wrong? Have I no integrity?

That usually lasts about a second. Then I start laughing and grinning.

But like I said, there is some work involved. I usually have to talk to the players about the game once I've completed the task of being paid to watch the game. Sportswriters call this an "interview."

Anyway, what a drag! Talking about sports? Who talks about sports? I can't remember the last time a fan took on the unpleasant task of speaking about and rehashing a game after it was finished.

What a displeasing chore it is to be able to talk to a person who hit a grand slam or pitched a no-hitter.

Well, I had better go buy some more sunflower seeds. I ate them all during my last "assignment." Besides, my deadline was five minutes ago.

Column by Hans Biebl, Journal Sports Writer