By Andrew Swank
As I’ve been reflecting on my four years as a Hoya ahead of my imminent graduation, I keep coming back to the 2022 World Cup, for some reason. My fondest memories at Georgetown include running from an exam to watch the penalty shootout ending of the Argentina-Netherlands quarterfinal match through the glass windows of the HFSC, the time I looked over in my Principles of Microeconomics lecture to see three other students also watching a match on their laptops (sorry, Professor Burk), and the spontaneous conversation that I sparked up when I noticed another student wearing competing teams’ jersey.
Those moments exemplify what I truly love about sports and sports writing—the emotions of competition. Every article I’ve written for the Voice has been an opportunity to communicate the joys, sorrows, triumphs, and disappointments of athletics. Perfectly distilling a game, season, or storyline into a few hundred words is an impossible task, yet striving to write an article the right way is a rewarding endeavor.
The struggle to put out my best writing has not been something I have experienced alone. I’ve been fortunate enough to have a wonderful group of editors and co-writers—including this article’s effervescent co-author and my dear friend Bradshaw, who have been with me on this seven-semester journey. They have patiently worked with me to build a writer’s toolkit of grammar, style, concision, and creativity that I am using even as I write these words now. Outside this not-a-job job, my teammates in the Sportz section have been amazing friends in our community of sportsball nerds.
Together, Voice Sportz has shared in the epic highs and lows of Georgetown athletics fandom, witnessing miraculous tournament runs and heartbreaking late-game collapses. I will cherish both the elation and anguish that we have shared as I transition into an alumnus fan. Coming together in community to experience those emotions is, I think, the reason we love sports. Writing about those emotions is yet another way to share the experiences with a wider audience, to connect with more people who feel a similar way.
So if I may engage in the time-honored tradition of giving unsolicited advice at graduation, I believe that we should all find a group of fans to root with. You don’t have to root for a sports team or an athlete—it could be an artist, a fictional character, or a favorite food, if that’s what moves you. The important thing is to find a community and build bonds over the experiences, both positive and negative, that you share. And if you want to share those experiences in writing, there is no better place than the Voice.
By Bradshaw Cate
As I walk into the Voice office for my final few meetings, I keep noticing a phrase scribbled with marker on the collapsing drywall: Die fort he Voice. The weird space that breaks up “for” and “the” has endured since I read it my freshman fall, written by an anonymous alum who I imagined tried capturing the spirit of this band of lovable, energetic, passionate misfits.
I have known so many people who would die fort he Voice. I joined the club when a wild-eyed junior shoved a copy of the magazine into my hands at freshman CAB Fair. Jo Stephens (CAS ’24) would become my mentor when she welcomed me into the Sportz section and the wider Voice community. Sports became my way of connecting with people, especially when I felt battered by ever-present imposter syndrome.
That community taught me to write and to write well (I hope you’d agree, dear reader). I idolized my seniors who handled sensitive topics with grace. I recommend reading Langston Lee’s (CAS ’24) tribute to the late women’s basketball coach Tasha Butts, Jo Stephen’s “Running as a revolt,” and all of Ben Jakabcsin’s (MSB ’25) and Henry Skarecky’s (SFS ’25) Sickos’ guides to sports. These pieces shaped me as much as any class I took at Georgetown.
The cruelest part of college is that it lasts only four years (on average…). The people I looked up to all sadly had to get “real jobs,” and left Andrew and me to grow into the leadership roles they once occupied. While I do not think I had a perfect tenure, especially when I skipped pitch meetings for Georgetown basketball games, I am glad to have bridged the section to the next generation.
Each section meeting opens with an icebreaker that includes your “Georgetown introduction” and your age. This semester, I have felt ancient declaring that I am 22 while surrounded by so many people born after the release of the Nintendo DS.
Yet, as I accept my eventual fate as an anonymous alumnus whose words are immortalized on the Voice wall, I am proud of what the community has become.
Some traditions remain—meetings start twenty minutes after they should, because the “sportos” are having too much fun chatting. We still have off-the-wall debates about the biggest animals we could fight. Most importantly, I have loved to see the hard-hitting journalism these new faces cover, see Eileen Weisner’s (SFS ’28) Ed Cooley interview and Julia Maurer’s (CAS ’28) transfer athlete exploration, born from the same passion for sports that bonded me to the section my freshman fall.
As I leave the Hilltop this May, I will soon be that anonymous alumnus on the Voice wall. However, I leave comforted knowing that this next generation will do their best to die fort he Voice.
