We’re Preparing Students for Athletic Communications Jobs That Don’t Exist Anymore (August 10, 2026)

When I started working as a sports information intern at Navy  in 1999, nobody asked me how well I could shoot vertical video.

Nobody asked whether I understood social media analytics.

NIL wasn't part of our vocabulary. Artificial intelligence wasn't sitting on our desktops. TikTok didn't exist. Neither did Instagram, X or YouTube.

The job was different.

And that's exactly the point.

More than 26 years later, I worry that we're sometimes preparing students and young professionals for the athletic communications jobs many of us entered instead of the jobs they're actually going to inherit.

That's not a criticism of students.

It's a challenge to those of us responsible for preparing them.

The Job Changed

Writing still matters.

Statistics still matter.

Accuracy absolutely matters.

Media relations, storytelling, historical records and institutional knowledge still matter.

But they're no longer enough.

Look at what can land on the desk of an athletic communications professional today.

Social media. Photography. Video. Graphic design. Website management. Live statistics. Streaming. Analytics. Branding. Crisis communication. NIL. Content strategy. Media relations. Artificial intelligence.

And sometimes all of that happens before lunch.

Yet we can still fall into the trap of giving students experiences built around an older version of the profession.

Keep stats.

Write the recap.

Update the website.

Post the score graphic.

Repeat.

Those are useful skills. But if that's the majority of someone's internship or student-worker experience, are we really preparing that person for what comes next?

I don't think we are.

Experience Isn't Automatically Development

This is where I think those of us already working in college athletics need to challenge ourselves.

We frequently tell young people they need experience.

I agree.

But simply being inside an athletic department doesn't guarantee meaningful professional development.

There's a difference between giving someone work and teaching someone how to work.

Did we explain why we made a communications decision?

Did we let them sit in on the meeting?

Did we teach them how to handle a coach who isn't happy?

Did they learn how to build a content plan instead of simply receiving one?

Did we let them make decisions?

Did we allow them to make mistakes?

Did we teach them how to fix those mistakes?

Did they learn how to communicate professionally when something goes wrong?

Those lessons are harder to put on a checklist.

They're also some of the most important lessons we can teach.

We Can't Complain About Readiness Without Helping Create It

I've heard versions of the same concern throughout college athletics:

"Young professionals aren't ready."

Sometimes that's true.

But I think we need to ask a harder question.

Ready for what?

If we're expecting a 22-year-old to arrive knowing how to write, shoot video, create graphics, manage social media, understand analytics, operate statistical software, communicate with coaches, handle pressure and understand emerging technology, where exactly were they supposed to learn all of that?

A classroom can teach part of it.

An internship can teach part of it.

Professional organizations can teach part of it.

Mentors can teach part of it.

But employers have a responsibility, too.

We cannot complain about the preparation of the next generation while providing opportunities that amount to little more than inexpensive labor.

If we want better young professionals, we need to create better places for them to become professionals.

Teach Them How to Think

Technology will keep changing.

The software we're using today won't necessarily be the software they're using five years from now.

That's why I don't think our biggest responsibility is teaching young professionals every tool.

We need to teach them how to think.

Why are we telling this story?

Who is the audience?

What does success look like?

What could go wrong?

What information are we missing?

Who needs to know?

What's the best way to communicate it?

What happens next?

Those questions don't become obsolete when a new platform appears.

Neither do curiosity, judgment, reliability, communication and relationships.

Those are career skills.

AI Makes This Even More Important

Artificial intelligence makes this conversation even more urgent.

Some of the tasks that once consumed significant portions of our workday can now be completed much faster.

That's a good thing.

But saving time only matters if we do something valuable with the time we save.

Young professionals need to learn how to work with AI while understanding where human judgment still has to take over.

AI can help organize information.

It can help brainstorm.

It can help identify patterns.

It can help turn a blank page into a starting point.

But it doesn't know your coach.

It doesn't know your student-athlete.

It doesn't understand the history behind a difficult conversation.

It doesn't own the consequences when information is wrong.

Those responsibilities still belong to us.

And teaching young professionals that distinction may become one of the most important things we do.

Give Them Something They Can Own

One of the simplest changes we can make is giving students and young professionals ownership.

Not just assignments.

Ownership.

Give someone a sport and let them help develop its communications plan.

Let them pitch a storytelling idea.

Have them look at the analytics afterward and explain what worked.

Ask them what they would change.

Let them participate in conversations instead of always waiting outside the room.

Give them a project where the answer isn't already predetermined.

Then coach them through it.

There will be mistakes.

Good.

That's part of development.

I'd rather have someone make a correctable mistake while they have an experienced professional beside them than encounter that situation for the first time when they're alone in their first full-time job.

Day 365

Here's the question I think every supervisor with an intern, graduate assistant or student worker should ask:

If this person spends one year working with me, what will they be able to do on Day 365 that they couldn't do on Day 1?

Not how many games they worked.

Not how many releases they wrote.

Not how many graphics they posted.

What can they do?

What decisions can they make?

What problems can they solve?

How much more confident are they?

How much better do they communicate?

What do they understand about the profession that they didn't understand before?

And perhaps most importantly:

Are they more prepared for their next opportunity because they spent this year with us?

If we can't answer that question, we shouldn't immediately blame the student.

Maybe we need to examine the experience we're providing.

The athletic communications profession isn't going backward.

Neither should the way we prepare people for it.

Love Leaves More Than Memories (August 3, 2026)

Today would have been my parents' anniversary - they were married on August 3, 1968.

For many people, an anniversary is marked with flowers, dinner reservations, and the opportunity to celebrate another year together. For our family, it looks a little different. My father passed away on October 1, 2009, so there isn't a card to sign or a dinner to share.

Instead, there is reflection.

As the years have passed, I've realized something I never fully understood when I was younger.

Love leaves more than memories.

It leaves values.

It leaves traditions.

It leaves examples.

It leaves a way of treating people that quietly becomes part of who we are.

As a child, I didn't recognize the countless sacrifices my parents made. I didn't notice the small acts of kindness, the compromises, or the daily commitment that held our family together. Like most kids, I simply assumed those things would always be there.

It wasn't until I became an adult that I began to appreciate what I had been witnessing all along.

And it wasn't until I became a husband that I truly understood it.

Marriage has a way of changing your perspective.

You begin to realize that lasting relationships aren't built on grand gestures. They're built on ordinary days. They're built on conversations after long workdays, choosing patience over pride, extending grace when it's needed most, and deciding—day after day—that your commitment matters more than convenience.

Those are lessons my parents taught me without ever sitting me down to explain them.

They simply lived them.

Dad has now been gone for more than a decade and a half, yet I still find myself wishing I could tell him about the life that's unfolded since he left. I'd love to tell him about my career, the people I've been fortunate to mentor, and the opportunities I've been blessed to experience.

Most of all, I'd want to tell him about Charlene.

I'd want him to know the incredible woman I married. I'd tell him about her heart, her strength, and the way she makes every day better simply by being herself. I think he would have loved watching us build a life together, and I know I would have cherished seeing the two of them get to know each other.

While that opportunity never came, something else did.

The example he and my mom gave me continues to shape the marriage Charlene and I are building today.

Every time we choose to communicate instead of assume, support instead of criticize, or encourage instead of discourage, I can see pieces of what my parents modeled years ago.

That may be the greatest gift they ever gave me.

Not possessions.

Not accomplishments.

An example.

Legacy isn't measured by what we leave behind on a shelf.

It's measured by what lives on in the people we love.

The patience we show.

The integrity we practice.

The compassion we extend.

The faithfulness we demonstrate when no one else is watching.

Those things don't disappear when we're gone. They become part of someone else's story.

Today, I'm grateful for my parents' marriage.

I'm grateful for my mom, whose strength has carried our family through seasons neither of us would have chosen.

I'm grateful for my dad, whose influence continues to guide me, even though our conversations now take place only in my memories.

And I'm grateful that Charlene and I have the opportunity to continue building a legacy of our own—one day, one choice, and one act of love at a time.

Love leaves more than memories.

If we're fortunate, it leaves people who know how to love a little better because of the example we set.

As I reflect on my parents' anniversary today, that's the question I find myself asking:

What kind of legacy will our love leave behind?

The Ugly Phase Is Part of the Process (July 31, 2026)

 There comes a point in almost every career when you wonder if you're making any progress.

You apply for jobs and hear nothing back.

You start a new role and suddenly feel like you know less than everyone else.

You launch a business, publish content, or begin networking, only to question whether any of it is working.

If that sounds familiar, you're not alone.

I recently read an insightful article from Korn Ferry titled "The Ugly Phase: Can You Survive It?" It describes the uncomfortable period between being a beginner and becoming proficient. It's that season when you've left the comfort of what you know, but you haven't yet reached confidence in what's next.

The article reminded me of something I've seen throughout my 27 years in college athletics communications.

Every successful professional I've met has gone through an ugly phase.

The graduate assistant learning to manage media relations for the first time.

The first-year athletic communications director trying to juggle multiple sports.

The coach taking over a struggling program.

The student preparing for their first job interview.

The entrepreneur launching a new idea before anyone knows their name.

No one skips this stage.

The difference isn't talent.

It's persistence.

Don't Mistake Discomfort for Failure

When things feel awkward, many people assume they're doing something wrong.

In reality, you're probably doing something new.

Growth almost always feels uncomfortable before it feels rewarding.

That's why the people who succeed continue asking questions, seeking mentors, building relationships, and improving one day at a time.

Confidence isn't something you wait to feel.

It's something you earn through repetition.

My Challenge to You

If you're in your own ugly phase today, don't quit because the path feels difficult.

Instead, ask yourself:

• What am I learning?
• Who can help me improve?
• What can I do better tomorrow than I did today?

Small improvements create remarkable careers.

Continue Reading

The Korn Ferry article provides additional research and insights into why this stage is so important for long-term success.

👉 Read it here:
https://www.kornferry.com/insights/briefings-magazine/issue-74/the-ugly-phase-can-you-survive-it

You may be in the ugly phase today.

That doesn't mean you're failing.

It may simply mean you're becoming the professional you're meant to be.

Day Two (July 28, 2026)

Day One at Spartanburg Methodist College

Day One (July 27, 2026)

 I love the parallel between these two events. One marks the beginning of a new athletic year. The other celebrates someone who has been part of your own journey. Both are reminders that the most meaningful things in life don't happen overnight—they're built one day at a time.

Today is Day One.

Across the country, campuses are coming to life as student-athletes move into residence halls, reconnect with teammates, and begin preparing for another season. Here at Spartanburg Methodist College, today marks the arrival of our fall sports student-athletes.

For many, it's the beginning of a college career.

For others, it's another opportunity to build on what they've already started.

Every one of them arrives carrying something different.

Excitement.

Hope.

Nervousness.

Expectations.

Dreams.

None of them know exactly what the next several months will bring.

And that's part of what makes today so special.

Today is also special for another reason.

It's my wife Charlene's birthday.

As I thought about welcoming a new group of student-athletes while celebrating another year of life with Char, I realized these two moments have something in common.

Both remind us that the best things in life are built one day at a time.

Every Journey Has a Day One

No championship begins with a trophy.

No graduate begins with a diploma.

No successful marriage begins with decades of memories.

Every meaningful accomplishment begins with a single day.

Day One.

Student-athletes don't become leaders because they put on a uniform.

They become leaders through the choices they make every practice, every class, every workout, and every conversation.

Relationships don't become strong because two people say, "I do."

They become strong through thousands of ordinary moments—encouraging each other, overcoming challenges, celebrating victories, and choosing each other again tomorrow.

The same is true of careers.

Your first day won't define your career.

But it will begin shaping it.

Start Before You're Ready

Many people spend their lives waiting for the perfect moment.

The perfect opportunity.

The perfect job.

The perfect circumstances.

Life rarely works that way.

Growth begins the moment you decide to start.

That's true for a freshman walking onto campus today.

It's true for a first-year coach.

It's true for a young professional applying for their first internship.

And it's true for every one of us, no matter where we are in life.

My Perspective

One of the greatest gifts college athletics has given me is perspective.

Every August feels like a fresh start.

New faces.

New stories.

New opportunities.

Every year reminds me why I fell in love with this profession.

At the same time, celebrating another birthday with Char reminds me that some of life's greatest accomplishments don't show up on a résumé.

They're found in the relationships we invest in.

The people who believe in us.

The people who challenge us.

The people who celebrate with us when no one else is watching.

If I've learned anything over the years, it's this:

Success is important.

Relationships make success meaningful.

Put It Into Practice

Today, think about your own Day One.

Maybe it's your first internship.

Maybe it's your first class.

Maybe it's your first job.

Or maybe it's simply deciding today to become more intentional than you were yesterday.

Whatever your Day One is...

Treat it like it matters.

Because one day you'll look back and realize it was the beginning of something much bigger than you imagined.

Reflection

Twenty years from now, what will you remember about today?

The tasks you completed?

Or the people whose lives you impacted?

The seasons eventually end.

The relationships often don't.

Welcome back to another year of college athletics.

Happy Birthday, Char.

And to everyone beginning something new today...

Make your Day One count.

You never get another one.

Stay Connected.

Success Leaves Clues. Start Paying Attention (July 21, 2026)

Today marked the beginning of another athletic year for me as the Assistant Athletic Director for Sports Communications at Spartanburg Methodist College.

Like many departments across the country, our coaches and staff gathered before our student-athletes return in the coming days. We talked about culture, expectations, and the year ahead.

One exercise stood out.

Each of us was asked to create a life timeline.

We identified the moments that shaped who we are—the victories, the disappointments, the people who influenced us, and the experiences that changed our direction.

Because of the size of the group and the limited time we had together, I wasn't able to share my entire timeline.

As I reflected afterward, I realized something.

My career makes much more sense looking backward than it ever did looking forward.

None of It Was Wasted

When I was a student at Columbus State Community College, I had no idea where the next 25-plus years would take me.

There wasn't a master plan.

There wasn't a roadmap that guaranteed success.

There were simply opportunities.

Some I pursued.

Some I missed.

Some I never saw coming.

Every internship...

Every late night at a sporting event...

Every mentor...

Every mistake...

Every difficult conversation...

Every championship...

Every setback...

Each became another point on my timeline.

Individually, they didn't seem life-changing.

Collectively, they became my career.

That's why I believe something I've heard for years:

Success leaves clues.

You just have to start paying attention.

The Clues Are Everywhere

One of the biggest mistakes young professionals make is believing success is hidden.

It isn't.

The clues are everywhere.

Watch how great athletic communicators prepare for game day.

Notice how they write.

Observe how they handle pressure when something unexpected happens.

Listen carefully to how they communicate with coaches, administrators, officials, photographers, broadcasters, and student-athletes.

Pay attention to what they do after everyone else has gone home.

Their habits are teaching you something.

Their consistency is teaching you something.

Even their mistakes are teaching you something.

If you're willing to observe, every day becomes another opportunity to learn.

Borrow Experience Before You Have It

One of the fastest ways to grow your career is to learn from people who are already doing the job you hope to have.

Ask questions.

Request informational interviews.

Volunteer at conferences.

Shadow someone for a day.

Read articles written by experienced professionals.

Study press releases, feature stories, social media strategies, game notes, and websites from departments you admire.

Don't copy them.

Understand why they make the decisions they make.

The best professionals aren't just producing content.

They're solving problems.

When you understand how experienced professionals think, you'll begin solving problems differently yourself.

My Perspective

Looking back at my own timeline, I can point to dozens of people who changed my career without realizing it.

Some were supervisors.

Some were coworkers.

Some were competitors.

Some were people I only met once.

Each left behind a clue.

Sometimes it was a conversation.

Sometimes it was constructive criticism.

Sometimes it was simply watching them work.

Those moments continue to shape how I lead, communicate, and mentor today.

That's why I believe mentorship doesn't always happen in scheduled meetings.

Sometimes it happens simply because you're paying attention.

Put It Into Practice

This week, create the first version of your own career timeline.

It doesn't need to be perfect.

Include the moments that have shaped you so far.

The people who influenced you.

The opportunities that stretched you.

The setbacks that taught you something.

Then ask yourself one question:

What clues have those experiences already given me?

You may discover that you're much further along than you think.

Reflection

Who is one professional you admire?

Not because of their title.

Not because of their awards.

Because of the way they consistently approach their work.

This week, pay attention to how they communicate, prepare, lead, and serve others.

Success rarely announces itself.

It leaves clues.

The people who grow the fastest are the ones who notice them.

Stay Connected.

Be Curious Before You Try to Be Impressive (July 20, 2026)

Why Questions Often Create Better Opportunities Than Answers

Most students believe they need to have all the right answers before they can earn an internship, land a job, or build meaningful relationships.

They spend hours trying to sound smarter, more experienced, or more accomplished than they actually feel.

But here's something I have learned after more than 25 years in college athletics:

The people who leave the strongest impression usually aren't the ones doing all the talking. They're the ones asking the best questions.

Curiosity is one of the most underrated career skills you can develop.

At First Glance

Think about the last conversation you had with someone you admired.

Were you trying to impress them?

Or were you trying to learn from them?

There's a big difference.

One approach focuses on yourself.

The other focuses on the other person.

People remember how interested you were in them far longer than they remember how much you talked about yourself.

Why This Matters

Whether you're interviewing for an internship, attending a conference, networking on LinkedIn, or sitting across from a hiring manager, curiosity changes the conversation.

Instead of trying to prove you're qualified, you're trying to understand.

Instead of trying to sound perfect, you're trying to grow.

That mindset immediately makes you more authentic.

Hiring managers don't expect college students to know everything.

They do expect them to be coachable.

And coachable people ask questions.

Questions like:

• What does success look like during the first six months?
• What separates your best interns from everyone else?
• If you could teach every new employee one thing, what would it be?
• What's one challenge your department is working through right now?

Those questions communicate something powerful:

"I'm here to learn."

That attitude is difficult to teach.