KarliBell33 & Peanut Tillman

On all of my platforms, my handle for everything for my personal brand is KarliBell33. Many people have asked me what the 33 stands for, and there's two reasons as to why I have 33 on the end of my handle: 1) @KarliBell is not available because someone who's never tweeted has that handle (rude) and (2) that number has been a part of my life since I was a kid.

I could just give you the short and sweet answer, but I'm going to explain it in depth. For those who know me know that I played sports at the competitive/organized level ever since I could walk until about my junior year of high school. Basketball was my main love, travelling all over of the region playing that sport.

The first team I was on that was considered competitve was my grade school team in 4th/5th grade. We were allowed to choose our own number. Because I had the ego I did, I chose No. 1. That ego is still here, but it's in check now. In 5th grade, someone ended up taking that number, because we were getting brand new jerseys. At this time, a certain cornerback by the name of Charles "Peanut" Tillman joined the Chicago Bears. He was my absolute favorite player next to Brian Urlacher on the Bears during this time, and he wore No. 33.

At the time, I chose the number solely based on the athletic ability of Peanut and didn't know much about him. As I grew older and became a bigger and bigger fan of the Bears and of football in general, I started reading about what he's done in the community and for his family.

I remember when news was circulating about how his daughter had to go through some pretty rough times with her health. When he was interviewed about this, I remember seeing someone that wasn't just an athlete; he was a very humble, kind, caring human being that was blesssed with athletic talent. He goes through the same struggles as everyone else, but what struck me the most was his humbleness.

Peanut has always been a great football player. His stats can prove that. However, the impact he's made on the communities he's lived in, especially Chicago, are innumberable. The impact that he's made on me personally as an adult is incredible.

Through his actions, he shows how to lead people and how to gain respect. He showed that egos shouldn't get inflated. Take everything you get as a blessing, because it can be taken from you as fast as it was given to you. He is truly an inspiring individual and just a phenomenal image of great character. Even after his career, he gives back to the community and is still horribly influential to people at all ages.

Now, with him being in the broadcast circle, I look up to him even more. He teaches me new things about the game every Sunday. He's so personable through the camera, and I try to copy my own camera presence off of his. He shows pure confidence and swagger on air, and it's a beautiful combination I wish I had.

I did meet him once when I was about 11 years old at the Chicago Bears convention. I have his autograph on my very first Bears hat that sits in the Bears Alley in the basement of my parents' house. I just remember him sitting there, signing autographs for what seemed like for him hours, but he still had a smile on his face and greeted every fan with enthusiasm and happiness. I would love to meet him again as an adult and, God willing, as a professional.

I know No. 34 is for Sweetness, but No. 33 is for Peanut. It always will be. Thank you Tillman for being such an influence in my life in ways I never expected. Thank you for continuing to spread your message to others through your charity and everything you do for the community. You may not punch out pigskins anymore, but you are punching a phenomenal message and mindset to not only myself but to everyone you meet.

The Jordan Year

Guys...I'm 23 now. This is actually insane. I would be lying if I said I think I'd make it this far. Absolutely not. Life is ever-changing. You never know what'll happen one day. People always like to focus on the negative now (Thanks, Trump). Instead, take a moment to reflect on how great of a year it's been for you, personally. That's what I plan on doing in this month's blog.

This past year has been a whirlwind for me. I graduated from college, got a job in my field, moved away from home, made some new friends, lost some old ones and made phenomenal memories. I still cannot comprehend that I'm a college graduate. If you would have asked me sophomore year of college if I would graduate, I would have said no. I was a screw-up, making horrible decisions and it all came back to bite me in the butt later in life. I learned from that.

I have job. I'm employed AND in the field I studied. That's still a dream for me. I'm making moves in the field of sports journalism and plan to keep doing so. Waking up everyday and being able to talk about sports for a living is still amazing. It's not a job. I'm just living and it's awesome.

I moved away from home. If you asked me in senior year if I would move down to Kentucky, I would have looked at you like you're nuts. Yet, here I am. To say this culture shock was necessary for me mentally is an understatement. It's always great to learn about different cultures and realize that not everyone is as blessed as you were is humbling. I'm not saying you need to move to a town of 6,000 people to do so, but for me, fate put me here. I just got to ride it.

I've made lifelong friends this past year. I met the squad in Nate, Tyler, Lou, AJ, Mulvin, Tim, Dave, Elisa and Kaila. I met Caleb, Josh, Marcus, Jarrett and other coworkers that have turned into friends. Friendships between Krista, Angela and I grew stronger. John Noble, Jordan and I still talk on a regular basis. I met Ray, Will, Kelz, Chris, Darrell, Bo, Brandon and others out in the field that I see regularly. I've travelled all over Kentucky, Virginia, West Virginia, Tennessee, Ohio and Indiana this past year. I got to come back home for 12 days and loved every second of it. I caught up with old friends in Katie, Ashley, Jake, Mike and Isabel. I've networked with plenty of other sports guys in Lexington and Louisville.

I got to experience new things, like covering UK basketball, football and softball. I covered state tournaments for basketball and football. I finally got to see The Grateful Dead and Tom Petty and The Heartbreakers. I've met new people at bars back home and in Ohio.

All in all, it's been a phenomenal year for me. Like Jordan, I'm going to keep grinding to see where I'll be next year at this time. I may still be in Kentucky. I may in Missouri, Wisconsin, Ohio, New York, Canada, England. Wherever fate takes me next. It's time to get back and focus on the next day.

Happy Four Years!

Four years ago, I started this blog to just give me an independent outlet to write whatever came to my mind. I laugh at how I thought I would write something each week. I still laugh at that to this day.

When I first started writing, I really didn't know what I wanted this to become. At first, I was writing about viral things as a way to get clicks. My mind was focused on getting clicks and getting views. I considered starting a podcast to go along with this as well as a YouTube channel as a way to just go "viral." I had no real idea of what this blog would be.

Once I decided to make it a monthly blog, it gave me time to evaluate what Karli With A K would be. I kept looking at this as a way to become "famous" on the internet. Don't ask why I had that mindset. I'm really embarrassed I used to think like that.

Now, I've turned this blog into a way to shed light on issues that I care about or to show how stupid people can be (the latter is my favorite). People have always referred to me as a female Stephen A. Smith. That's right Dani Dean; I will never forget that on-air reference during Hardwood Heroes. You want to know what's great? I revel in that.

I'm here to 1) vent about random ish that happens in my life, (2) talk about controversial subjects to get you, the reader, talking, and (3) just be me. Who does that the best? Stephen A.

I kept trying to make this blog into something that would go viral instead of making it represent the writer. I'm a loud, outgoing, sports-loving Chicagoan who's a feminist. That's what this blog has become and I love it.

So thank you for wanting to read my rants and opinions each and every month for the past four years. I plan to keep this going as I continue my profession. I plan on keeping my Bears podcast, Under The Helmet, going as long as I can. I plan to keep on writing my book (that's right people. Been keeping that one from you for a while). I plan to keep growing in my profession and want to keep you informed on my journey.

Happy four years!

These "Poster Christians" Need To Stop

For my father's sake, I will say that I am a religious person, but I consider myself to be more spiritual. I do not like organized religion, because I believe it does more harm than good. Mind you, this is coming from a woman who was raised in a converted Catholic family and was in Catholic school from first grade all the way through high school. 

My family is very religious. We attend Mass every week and every Holy Day of Obligation. We learned new things about the faith through school and my father's vastly expanse knowledge on Catholicism and religion as a whole. However, the one thing that my dad taught me and something I still abide by to this day is that the best way to show your faith and honor God is through actions and acting like a good person.

Yes, that is extremely hard, but it is something that I try to abide by as much as I can. HOWEVER, ever since I moved from Chicago to Kentucky, the amount of what I like to call "poster Christians" is far too high and need to stop. What is a "poster Christian?" I will tell you my interpretation of this phrase that I decided to coin to label these people. A "poster Christian" is the Christian that will shove God and religion down your throat, either verbally or through their RIDICULOUS amount of social media posts, about how God is the only way to be happy. However, these same people that throw this at you constantly will then do the exact opposite of what they're preaching about and be a straight hypocrite.

Ever since I moved into the Bible Belt (although I do not consider Kentucky to be the Bible Belt), these types of people are EVERYWHERE. Yes, I do not personally attend Mass every week because of my own reasons. However, when I get asked, "What religion are you?" and I say that I find myself to be a more spiritual person, these same people come at me and throw their Protestant faith down my throat and say that I'm not a good person, because I don't go to Mass every week. Also, why do you need to know how I identify religiously? That's already an odd question to ask when you initially meet someone.

Excuse me, I did not ask to get a Bible lesson from you, sir or ma'am. Also, doesn't God teach in your oh so revered book that you must treat everyone with kindness and forgiveness? So, by you criticizing my difference in religion and for not being a part of the cookie cutter religions, you, therefore, are doing the opposite of what you are taught in your church or faith.

That's only one example. Then there are the people who find a way to take a damn ThoughtCatalog listicle or an Odyssey article and spin it around to say that only God is the way you'll find a husband. WHAT? Are you kidding me? It's a ThoughtCatalog article people, not a religious article off a spiritual website. Calm down. You are the people that irritate me the most.

If I wanted to get a Bible lecture every day, I can call my father, a priest, a deacon, a monk or a nun and ask them questions. I did not log on to Facebook to see your manipulative changing of words so you can shove God down my throat about how the only way I will find a husband is through God. Pretty sure God wasn't at a bar, a concert, a frat party, etc. when two people met and fell in love.

It's you, these "poster Christians," that are creating more division and creating more hypocrisy than ever. Your social media posts may say that you're devout, kind, caring and accepting of all people, but your day-to-day action show the complete opposite. Pretty positive that God isn't going to check how many Bible quotes you've tweeted or posted as Facebook statuses to see whether or not you'll cross the Holy Gates. 

If you identify as a Christian, then the purpose of being Christian is to love, be kind and accept all people from all backgrounds. You must treat all people the way you would want to be treated. So, if you wanted to be treated like a hypocrite, then keep doing what you're doing. However, if you want to be treated the way that your social media posts proclaim, then stop posting about it online and just pass along love and positivity to one another. Stop being a poster child and feel the need to try and convert people through manipulative re-wording of an article written by a college student as a venting mechanism.

6 Months Away From Home

For those who don't know, I moved from Chicago to a tiny, little town in the middle of Eastern Kentucky for a job. I have yet to go back to Chicago since I moved here about six to seven months ago. HOWEVER, I never expected to enjoy a small town as much as I have.

I moved from the metropolis of over nine million people to a town of just about 6,000. Talk about a culture shock. When I first moved here, I was just stuck in a hole. I kept going up to Athens to see my old friends, I rarely left my apartment on my days off, and I just felt really out of place. I was a 6' tall Chicagoan who moved to the South, so I felt SUPER out of place.

I would go out on stories and cover high school and college athletes. I would make on average an hour drive to get these interviews and get to know these kids. The one thing that just kept showing itself over and over again is the amount of poverty in this part of the state. I would see delapidated houses, lawns that are unkept, hundreds of torn up mobile homes and just poverty stricken homes. But then, I would meet these kids, and they would blow my mind.

These kids, especially the high schoolers, are struggling through so much and have so many extra responsibilities that I didn't have growing up. I was blessed to grow in the city with so many options to help the family when I could. But these kids are just having a smile on their face, practice and play their butts off, and keep living their life to the best of their ability.

I never thought these high schoolers would be as influential on me as they have been. They have so many dreams and aspirations and they don't let their location get in the way. I had the privilege to live in such a big city and have so many opportunites at my disposal. These kids are scraping by to just be a success, and it's truly inspiring.

These parents of these kids are even more impressive. They sacrifice everything to make sure their baby can get the new gear for practice or take them all over the country so they can grow as athletes. I've interviewed so many parents and teenagers, and all of them have touched me in some way.

When I first moved here, I was a snob. I thought I was better than all these people down here, because I came from Chicago. I was stuck up. I admit that. Now that I've been here as long as I have, I realized that I'm not better than anyone else. These kids are all trying to acheive the same goals I had when I was their age. These kids have humbled me, and I never thought a small town would have that much of an impact on my life.

America, Let's Talk

America, hey there. You all have got to know me at a pretty personal level. You know my opinions on a variety of topics, ranging from Hollywood to the judicial system. You also know intricate details about my friends and family. You know that I spend my free time, trying to improve at my job and further my career in every way possible.

However, there are MILLIONS of people in this world that would rather spend their free time on four of the most pointless things that (1) do not contribute anything positive to this country, (2) receive more attention that children being shot in the back while sitting on their porch on a Sunday afternoon and (3) are the most meaningless things in this country.

These four things are what I'm speaking about:
1) Beauty Pageants (on all levels)
2) The Royal Family
3) The Bachelor/Bachelorette
4) The Kardashians

Let's address each one in its own context, shall we?

Beauty pageants (specifically the ones for older, mature women). If this isn't the biggest barrier in the way of women wanting to be seen as more than a face, then I don't know what is. These women are being judged SOLELY on how they look. BUT WAIT. It's judgment based on how they look in different outfits. "But Karli, they have a question round. That shows personality." Yes, because a stunningly gorgeous woman that's trying to win a competition to be the prettiest girl in the country is going to have the answer to solve the crisis in the American education system. You all know that all those answers are SO rehearsed to include things that tug at the heart strings of these MALE judges so they don't seem too superficial. What a joke.

The Royal Family. America, WHY ARE WE SO OBSESSED WITH THIS USELESS FAMILY? Isn't the reason we started this country was for freedom of expression and to have a choice in government which Great Britain DIDN'T have? The Royal Family is the most useless body of people in world politics. What do they do? They do nothing that can be impactful on world relations or in their own country. The Prime Minister and Parliament do more than that queen has ever done. I will never forget in high school when classmates of mine woke up earlier than they would ever wake up for class to watch the Royal wedding. ARE. YOU. KIDDING. ME. Why do you look up to and idolize these people when they do nothing at all that matters in this world?

The Bachelor/Bachelorette. Let me break down these shows. These people are so desperate for attention and love that they want their ENTIRE dating process broadcast to the whole nation. Men and women quit their jobs to have their dating life broadcast to the whole country. If this past season of the Bachelorette doesn't prove how much of a low life can win, then what will? A washed up quarterback who's the brother of a SUCCESSFUL NFL quarterback won this show. If you wanted to marry a washed up athlete, go to any small town, and you'll find them. They're a dime a dozen. They're not hard to find, seeing that they will tell you every stat/record/game they've ever had the moment you meet them ***gag.***

The Kardashians. I already wrote an entire blog on this family's ridiculousness so I'll spare you that schpiel.

You want to know what isn't getting any attention from media outlets because the American public would rather here about what Kylie wore to Fashion Week, what new milestones JoJo's relationship has hit, and what Prince Harry did on a private jet? A rising Chicago high school athlete was shot six times while he was sitting on his porch. An entire mining industry is crumbling, leaving hundreds of thousands of people out of work and destroying small towns. Another woman was raped, and there wasn't a just verdict. Another black person was racially profiled while they're on their way home, minding their own business. Another person lost their job. Another child was bullied to the point where they took their own life. Another person overdosed on heroine, which is a rising drug epidemic.

But you, the American public who I cater to because I'm in the news industry, don't want to hear those stories. You don't want to hear the story of an athlete who has gone through hell and back and finally caught his first touchdown as a senior. You don't want to hear about how the world is affecting you and what the future could be. You don't want to hear about how an entire portion of the American population is about to disappear.

You'd rather know what new white woman is Miss America.You want to know what designer Kim is wearing. You want to know what Prince George did on his second birthday.

America, let's get our priorities straight.

773

773     312     847     708     630     224

The area codes of the CHI

Chicago

The best city in this country

North, South and West

The Lake takes the East

From State and Michigan

All the way to me

The Northwest Side

My home and my life

Memory lane on Waveland

Asphalt instead of wildlife

Cement instead of grass

Alleyways instead of hardwood

Parks instead of fields

Where I found friends for good

13 big brothers and teachers

6 Ball players

10 Friars

And me, her

Thank you for the memories

But I have to leave

Time to start my life again

But CHI will always be on my sleeve

I wear the flag with pride

I represent the 773

I'm a city girl

I always will be

Goodbye Chicago

Hello Kentucky

But what I can say is

Thank you for creating me

One day I'll be back

On your TV screens

Talking Bears football

And still representing the 773

To The Friend Who Left My Life

To the friend who left my life:

Remember back to the porch step days, where all we cared about was sharpening sticks? Remember when we used to ride bikes around the block for fun when we actually had a unspoken race? Remember on the rainy days when we would just go for a run to come back, completely out of breath?

I do.

I remember the days when I would sprint up your front steps, through your kitchen, up to your room, just to play Backyard Baseball. I remember when you taught me how to roller blade. I remember when you taught me how to perfect my jump shot. I remember every memory we had, including the bad.

I remember the day you left.

The day you pushed me out of your life. The day where I felt like I lost a part of me. The day you told me the truth. I was heartbroken. I felt like the only person who's been there with me since day one decided that our friendship that blossomed over 15 years didn't mean anything. Instead of fighting, I let you go.

But I still cared.

I would check in with your family to see how you were doing. I was so proud when you graduated from high school and eventually college. I was so happy for you when you got in a good relationship. I was always there for you, even when you didn't want me there.

Until you came to me.

Until that night you finally texted me after four years of the silent treatment. I still question why you came to me. In the back of your mind, you knew that I would always be there for you, through the good and bad, the thick and thin, the beautiful and the ugly, every moment. After that night, we never spoke again. I haven't seen you since. You completely shut me out of your life; you shut all of us out.

I still love you.

Just waiting for you

I know that our futures will collide again. I know that one day, you'll come to realize that what started the fight was so small, so miniscule, so meaningless. After everything you did to me, everything you put me through, every mind game you played, every emotion you brought out of me, I still forgave you. That's how much you mean to me.

I will never forget the memories we've had; you won't either. The innocent days, the carefree years, the days that I will cherish, because that's when you were really you. As you grew up, you changed into something you're not. I hope that's changed.

To the friend who left my life, just know I still think about you. I hope you found the love of your life. I hope you're successful in your career. I hope you figured everything out.

I hope you see this one day.
All I want is the best for you...

To the friend who left my life... I'm only one call away.

I Did It

Best choice I made was coming here. pic.twitter.com/7R5xiWDIAa

— Karli Bell (@KarliBell33) November 25, 2015

Four years ago, I received a letter in the mail back home in Chicago from Ohio University, saying that I was accepted into the university and into the E.W. Scripps School of Journalism. Who knew that me making my decision to make the culture change from the metropolis of Chicago to the small town of Athens, Ohio would change my life for the better?

Today, I am an official graduate of Ohio University. I finished my degree in three and a half years and made lifetime friends while I was here. The memories I've made here are innumerable. From spending countless Friday nights in the newsroom for Gridiron to every roommate experience I've had, there is so much I've learned here.

The hours I've spent in the WOUB newsroom is immense. I've met my mentors, some of my best friends for life, and future journalists and teachers that are going to change the world for the better in that newsroom. Every show, every cast, every package, every live shot, every interview, and every game I've been a part of has shaped me in some way.

Now, I'm done with school and will enter the working world. I didn't expect my time here to end so quickly. I'm done with school. That's all I've known for 21 years. I'm going to be honest: I'm a bit scared to enter this new working world without having to worry about a 20 page paper to turn in for a political science course or a presentation for a Spanish class.

I'm not trying to sound cliche, but these were the best years of my life. I've had my trials and tribulations like everyone does, but I wouldn't change anything about my time here in Athens. Anytime I meet a freshman, I always say, "I'm so jealous." They have another four years in the best place in this country. It's become my home away from home. I never thought that I would love a small town as much as I love my big city.

I cannot thank my parents enough for letting me pursue my dream and my future. They gave me all the tools they could afford, supported me when others didn't, and took a huge financial risk on their daughter who wanted to get a journalism degree. That is something that I don't think I can ever fully repay. Even when I do eventually pay off these loans, I will still owe them my life for doing something like that for me.


Thanks so much Ohio University & WOUB for giving me the opportunities and
the work environment where I can grow as a journalist. Thank you to Jimmer, Seth, Baucco, and Lucas for being my mentors. Thank you Allison, Atish, Gabe, and Susan for being great co-workers in the newsroom as professional staff. Thank you to the sports department for becoming a part of my family and creating our own fraternity. I know all of you are going to be great successes one day, ranging from my fellow nine seniors all the way down to the freshmen. Thank you Carter for working with me through every issue and obstacle thrown our way this past semester. I couldn't have done anything without you. Thank you John & Jordan for being the best two friends I could have ever asked for.

Thank you to my roommates Katie, Tia, Madison, and Kristin for being able to deal with me for these past two years. Thank you to all my Fenwick girls (Tori, Izzy, Ashley, Claire, Speez, and Theresa) and the two fellow founders of the broadcast club (Jake & Will). Without you guys helping and pushing me throughout high school, I don't know where I would be now.

I still don't know where I will be next, and it's terrifying knowing that. I've been persistent, sent in bunches of job applications, created my resume, created demo reels and created my own website. Now, it's a waiting game to see what station will accept me to join their newsroom, just how four years ago I was waiting to see who would accept me to join their academic community.

All I can say now? I did it.

Why I Don't Vote

It's November 3rd, which means it's election day. I scroll through my Snapchat, Instagram, Twitter, Facebook, all of it and see hundreds of "I Voted" stickers from my friends. Everyone is "proud to be an American" and loves to "support this great country of mine." Direct quotes from some of my friends' posts. These are also the friends of mine who, just two days before election day, said they were fed up with American policies and want to move out of the country...

While people are standing in line waiting to do their so-called patriotic duty in voting, I'm sitting at work or at my apartment, catching up on work, catching up with friends, and talking to my family. I don't vote. I am one of the millions of people and one of the thousands of millenials who doesn't believe in voting for political figure heads. Here's why:

1) I go to school in Ohio but I'm from Chicago, as many of you know. I will only spend 4 years of my life here in Athens. My vote here doesn't represent the community of Athens or the surrounding towns in Athens county. The students are here for only a short time. Why should we put in our voices in this legislature when, by the time a policy will be recognized, we will be long gone? It's pointless.

2) People ask why I don't do absentee voting. Yes, I've spent my entire childhood and teenage years in Chicago, and I will always love my city. However, I'm not there now. My voice means nothing there, seeing that I spend a combined 3.5 months in the city throughout the year. Why vote when I'm not getting the benefits of the vote? Let the people who are spending years in the city get their voice heard. (But let's be real, even those people don't get their voices heard because of Chicago corruption. Good ol' Chicago).

3) Let's say you're voting a representative/senator/congressional leader/alderman whoever into office. If you think about it, politicians don't ever adhere to what you want; they only appeal to what their donors want, since they're the ones giving them money. They're great public speakers because they know how to use words in a way where they never answer a question outright. It's very easy to manipulate the general public with beautiful, flowery language.

4) I honestly don't care enough. All politics do anymore is create gridlock. Policies are rarely passed, laws are either ridiculously broad that they don't do anything or crazy specific to target a miniscule demographic, and they create great television ratings. Why waste my time to study an issue that will not get through the House in at least 5 years? I can spend my time doing more important things, like job hunting, writing articles, working on campus, or spending time with my family.

With all the political issues and division that has been created over the past four years, you really think voting is going to clear it up quickly? You're naive if you think that. There has been more division in this nation over the past year than I can recall. So you all can have fun being "patriotic" and then go bashing the nation not even an hour after you vote. Spend hours waiting in line to cast a ballot. I'll spend my time watching the Bulls and preparing for some MACtion.

Why I Chose My Career Path

As I sit here in my apartment, I'm thinking back on this past May and the hardship my family went through losing my Grandma Bell. Grandma Bell was the biggest Chicago Cubs fan you could have ever met. She would rather watch baseball over football. I don't think she ever missed a Cubs game in her long 78 years of life. Even in her final days, she would want the game on.

It's now October, and her Cubbies are making moves in the playoffs. They're making moves to the World Series. I keep thinking about how she said the only tattoo she would ever get is when the Cubs would win the World Series. I know right now that she is sitting up in Heaven with Grandpa Bell, watching every Cubs game with her Cubs blanket and giant mug in hand.

This type of fandom and story is why I got into sports. Sports do so much more than one can fathom. It's not only entertainment, it's something that allows people to step away from the hardships of life for a brief period of time and watch a game/match. It unites people together in a way that words really cannot describe. It causes friendly rivalries and brings strangers together without violence or harm. Getting stories out there like this and like so many others where athletics helped create a path for someone is what the world needs.

This is why I do what I do. People constantly question why I decided to put myself in thousands of dollars in debt to go to an out of state university for a journalism degree. My answer is always this:

"Sports journalism is way more than a stat line. It's more than a record or a championship. It's about the people in sports that makes sports journalism so great. For some people, athletics was the only way they could have received a college education. For others, athletics helped them find discipline and escape a bad neighborhood or a bad homelife. Sports could have helped give a disabled or sick person joy during their time of grief. Sports is the only thing that can unify the entire world for a short amount of time and forget about all the conflict and hardship. It's the only thing that can bring people from all races, genders, incomes, religions, ethnicities, ages, and neighborhoods to cheer someone on. What else can do that?"

People seem to forget that sports is so much more than entertainment. For myself, it's been a tremendous part of my life. I grew up playing sports constantly. I have plenty of guy friends who were athletes as well when I was younger who taught me the game. Gender was never a factor when they taught me the game of basketball, how to catch a football, how to pitch, or how to steal bases. It was something that we all enjoyed, and we all wanted to improve together, differences aside.

Sports gave me an outlet to create new friends from different backgrounds and cultures. Sports taught me a tremendous amount of discipline and how to respect authority, outside of what my parents taught me. It was also a way for me to stay active, and it was fun. I would play against my friends in rec leagues, and we would challenge each other on the court. If anything, sports helped strengthen the friendships I now currently have over the last 10 years.

What sports have done for my family is amazing, specifically my brother. Sports gave him a way to meet some of his current best friends. It gave him an outlet to relieve stress in a very healthy manner. Football taught him discipline, teamwork, and mutual respect for your fellow teammate on the gridiron. You can't learn that from a book.

Yes, sports are a form of entertainment. But it's also a sub-culture of our own world. It's its own entity that your fellow fans can understand. It's something that can formulate and change someone's outlook on life, on their career, their education, and their personality.

Although I am a White Sox fan, cheers Grandma Bell. Congrats to your Cubbies. Keep on wearing your bright Cubbie blue as I will continue to spread your story and everyone else's story on my journey as a sports journalist.

Home is Where the Heart is

As I sit here in my living room, I start to think about my time here in my amazing hometown of Chicago. I've spent my entire life, almost 21 years, here in the city with the occasional time spent in Athens, Ohio. It's hitting me that this is most likely my last summer here in this house, in this neighborhood, and in this city for many years.

I've never moved out of this house; I've only switched bedrooms. I've lived in this neighborhood my entire life. I've scraped my knees on every single square of cement, thrown racquet balls at countless porch steps, and shot many baskets in my alleyway. I've thrown the pigskin around my front lawn, played running bases between the same two trees, and played baseball at the same mock diamond for 21 years.

This reflection has made me realize that the saying "you are where you come from" is extremely valid. Yes, I know this refers to your family upbringing and cultural ties, but there are many other factors that shape who you are. The countless memories I have on this block is something I think about everytime I drive down the street or the alleyway.

Every time I walk by the tree with the now removed face, I think of the amount of times I slid into first base at the base of the tree. I think of the time J.J. ripped the face off the tree when I was 9. I think of the times Dean, Joey, Reilly, and I would sit in the grass, sharpening sticks and talking about God knows what.

Every time I look in my backyard, I think of the times that Billy, Tom, Charlie, and every guy I know would dunk me in that pool. I think of every cookout the Bells had over 20 years with the same people who became our family. I remember every July 4th where I would sit on my deck, looking at the countless fireworks lighting up the sky. I think of the countless splinters I had, the fireflies I would catch, the sparklers I would line our sidewalk, and the bottle rockets we lit off our deck.

Every time I walk up my steps, I look to my right and see my neighbor's front steps. All the times Dean, Reilly, Joey, Jake and I would grab a racquet ball and play pinners for hours. All the times we would make his sidewalk home plate and play quick games of baseball with that same racquet ball and whiffle bat. All the memories where we've slid into home with bruised knees and scraped legs.

Every time I take out the trash to my alley, I look at the asphalt and think of the hours I spent trying to perfect my jump shot. The hours I would beg Joey to teach me the spider or the hypnotizer. The one and only time I beat Reilly in a one-on-one game with a bank shot from the fence. The time where the guys and I would run down the alley after Jake was hit by a car while on a go-cart.

Every trip I make to Walgreens, I think about the hot summer days where we would trek to the store to grab Gatorade and gum. The days we would sit to wait for the bus to head to Six Corners. The times we would walk to Shabonna to play football in the field.

Every time I look at my house, I think of the days we would sit on my steps years later, catching up and reminiscing. I remember when I saw my mom bring my brother and sister home for the first time. I think of every piece of trash I threw in those bushes after coming home from grade school. I remember every front porch conversation I've had with my parents.

Every time I walk through my house, I remember the old, butt ugly yellow kitchen we used to have. I remember seeing my brother and sister take their first steps. I remember screaming for joy in my dining room when I was accepted into Fenwick, and four years later when I made my decision to go to Ohio.

Although I've gone through a lot of downfalls and negatives in my life, this neighborhood and the memories I have here are some of my greatest moments. This neighborhood is me in a nut shell: beat up but still strong, old but youthful, changing but classic. This place, this block, this house, and these people will always be in my heart, because it's my home. Thank you Chicago for the 20+ years of hospitality, memories, and friends you've given me. Hopefully, I'll be back one day as an older, wiser, and stronger individual, ready to come home for good.

Don't Stand Up...Unless It's For Your Rights

I've noticed that this blog has become an outlet for me, to release stress and be a healthy way to let myself go in a matter of typing. This month's post is going to be just a tad different than in the past. In case you readers didn't know this, I wrote a piece for Thought Catalog in the summer of 2014. It discussed an issue about being asked, "Why are you still single?"

It's a nice rant for the single ladies as Valentine's Day is coming up, or as I like to refer to it as Single Awareness Day (PDAs are just too real that day, and it needs to go away). Anyway, I just went through something that no woman should ever experience. Unfortunately, I have experienced this now for the fourth time in my life, and it has me questioning things about myself and my personality.

Back in December, I was talking to this one guy, who will stay nameless. We were talking for a few weeks. Here's the twist: we met online, and yes, it was Tinder. Go ahead and judge, but that app is a great way to get an ego boost and meet people. Anyway, we started talking, and he seemed like an alright guy. I wanted to meet the kid just to feel things out. So I asked him if he was free on a Thursday night to grab a bite and just meet up in person. He told me he was available and would meet me at this sub shop back home in Chicago. We agreed to meet up at 8.

I'm at my house getting ready and having my awesome little sister pick out jewelry for me to wear. I realized I was running a little late, so I shot him a text saying I was running behind. He responded, "That's fine. I'll meet you there." I get there around 8:15, and see that he wasn't there. I texted him; no response. I waited about a half hour; again, no response. Another hour goes by; no response. By this time, I am livid and angry that, for the fourth time in my life, I have been stood up.

I drove home after some much needed retail therapy (I also justified it as a way to use the gift cards I got for Christmas). I burst in the door with bags in hand; my mom looks at me and just felt awful for me that she's seen this happen to me four times now.

Men, WHY? Why do you stand up chicks? Do you know how much effort goes into getting ready? That involves putting on a full face of makeup, doing our hair, finding an outfit that isn't a pair of sweats and a hoodie...you just made me waste about two hours of my time.

I wasn't expecting this guy to become a relationship, and that maltreatment of my time and my emotions guaranteed that. What was even worse is that he texted me the next day, completely ignoring what happened. I ignored him for days and weeks until he got the hint. I then found him subtweeting about me and how girls play mind games. Excuse me, but you toyed with my emotions and wasted my time to satisfy whatever you needed to satisfy. And women are the ones who play mind games.

Men, women are not difficult to figure out. We are quite simple. Just don't get us angry, and you will be on easy street. If you've met a girl who is way more complex than that, then I feel so bad for you. For example, as long as you respect my schedule and that I don't feel the need to speak to you every single second of the day, you will do just fine.

If you can't make the date or you feel like you're too nervous (which you know you feel), then just let us know. Just text us. We will be upset that you did make us waste a couple hours, but I know that we would still continuing talking to you because you were honest with us. That's all it takes. Learn your lesson men. You're welcome.

What the Holidays are Really About

December is always a month where everyone just seems to be in a cheerier mood. Why? It's almost Christmas time. Christmas brings out a sense of generosity in everyone to all people. It's a great thing to witness and take part in as well. However, people seem to realize what these holidays really do, and what saddens me is that not everyone can experience this.

The holidays are meant to bring family and friends together and reminisce about the past year. However, so many people have never felt this feeling of what a family truly is, and that hurts my heart. I was blessed to grow up in a loving family with parents who have been together for over 20 years and two amazing little siblings. My parents had in-laws that loved everyone in the family. I have cousins, aunts, and uncles that are all able to get along with loving grandparents.

Just a few weeks before the end of my fall semester of junior year, I was speaking with a friend of mine. They told me that they have never really celebrated the holidays with their family; everyone just goes on with their day as if there's nothing special. They also told me that they have never felt like they are a part of family. There's no unity, trust, or familial aspect to their life.

I have never felt so sad hearing this, and it really made me reflect on my life. I was blessed with a family that, obviously, has its ups and downs but will always be there for anyone in need in the family. I never knew that some people were never blessed with this familial aspect of their life.

I've also read stories on some homeless and less financially fortunate who have no one else in their life to turn to for help. They are truly alone and have nowhere to turn. They stay in raggedy homeless shelters where they can get the necessities, but they have no one to spend a holiday. This is just depressing and sad.

Merry Christmas from Me!

Why am I mentioning all this negativity with just a week before Christmas? To remind you of something. No matter how much wealth or material posessions you have, you will only find true joy in spending some time with someone close to you. That can range from your family to your best friend to a significant other. For those who feel alone, you know that deep down, there is at least one person you can reach out to in your time of need. Connect with someone who you have lost touch with and have a mini-reunion. Enjoy your holidays with just one person that will appreciate that someone cares about them.

Merry Christmas & Happy Holidays.

What's the Deal with Award Season?

The MTV Video Music Awards, or VMAs, were this past week. Almost everyone's eyes was on their television, waiting to see who would win what award or if there would be a repeat of Miley Cyrus. Well, there was nothing as jaw-dropping as Miley Cyrus' performance last year, but Beyonce pulled on the heart strings with her whole album performance and being awarded by her husband and child.

I was one of the few people who was not watching the VMAs (in case you want to know, I was watching Bears highlights on YouTube). I read about the happenings on Twitter and watched the trends the following morning.

Thinking about the VMAs in retrospect, I kept wondering why these award seasons are ridiculously popular. I understand four awards: Grammys, Emmys, Oscars, and Tonys. Every other award, e.g. the TCA, PCA, VMAs, etc, seems absolutely pointless. Why does a singer/band need an award, because they put together a great video? There are THOUSANDS of people who can create videos at the same caliber or even better, and they are not being recognized.

The TCA & PCAs? Really? Let's give you an award because people like you? Then give everyone in the world a TCA or PCA, because at least one person likes another person. It's absolutely pointless.

Again, while I was considering the purpose of these awards, I remembered a fellow classmate from my high school. He stated, "The award season is basically watching rich and wealthy people receive awards from other rich and wealthy people for singing or portraying someone that they're not." That could not be more true. Think about it for a second.

The Oscars, Emmys, and Tonys are awards given out for acting in Hollywood and on Broadway. What is acting in reality? Acting is a way to play a person that you aren't, a fantasy, an escape from reality. There are people being REWARDED for playing something they're not. Isn't the point of life to be rewarded for being who you are? It's hypocritical.

The Grammys are awards given out to singers. Well, there are MILLIONS of people that are talented singers across the world, yet they didn't receive a grammy. Why? Because they don't have a contract with the music industry. That's really the only reason they didn't receive one. That's absolutely ridiculous.

People then say, "Well, the fashion is what I care about." You could actually wait until the next day, pick up a tabloid, and see what these celebrities wore to the event. You could also subscribe to fashion magazine and see what they will probably wear months before they decide.

"Well, I like the performances." That's what YouTube is for; you can see past live performances that these singers/bands have done. You can also go and see them in concert yourself.

After reading all this, do you really see a reason to waste three or four hours of your time to watch rich people receive an award?

A Sharp Turn Down the Road of Life

Well, as many of you may know, I am out in Omaha, interning at WOWT in the sports department. I'm having the best summer, getting hands-on experience in a newsroom, and living the dream covering some Triple A baseball and the College World Series. Guess what; I'm not there.

After just two days in the newsroom, I started feeling very sick. I could barely keep my eyes open, because the light hurt my eyes. I was fatigued all the time, trying to fit multiple naps in somewhere throughout my day. I couldn't talk, because my throat felt swollen. My head was pounding non-stop; I didn't know what was wrong with me. I thought it was a 24-hour bug so I went in to the station the next day.

I was still not feeling well, but I was better than I was the day before. I went in to the newsroom, and I was trying to find some energy. I was getting weaker and weaker. I was using so much energy to just try and keep my eyes open. I went to a doctor, and they told me it was a sinus infection. They gave me some antibiotics, and I went on my way home.

A couple days later, I was still wasn't feeling well. I ended up getting sick while I was on the job. I went to another doctor, and they gave me different antibiotics. It did nothing; I was getting really upset, because I was missing all these days at the station without getting any better. Finally, my uncle noticed that I was red in the face and not my normal sunburn red. I looked in the mirror, and it looked like I had chicken pox all over my face. I went to a doctor for the third time. They said it was either strep or mono (mind you, I haven't had strep since I had my tonsils and anoids removed when I was 5). Doc came back after running a blood test and told me I had tested positive for mono.

Those were the hardest six words I have ever heard. Those words meant my internship was done, my part time job I had was done, and I would have to come back home to Chicago. I was balling my eyes out, knowing that the summer I was so excited for just disappeared. I went back to my uncle's house and just could not stop crying. I called my boss at the station, and he was really understanding of the whole situation. I was only in the newsroom for four days, and he still offered me the internship for next summer. That was the absolute last thing I expected; I was waiting for a "Well, it was great working with you for a short time. Feel better and enjoy your upcoming school year." Four days and I still received an internship for next summer? I was astounded.

I called my parents, and my mom flew out to come and get me on Father's Day. I just sunk into depression on the entire eight hour drive back to Chicago. Granted, I was given a second chance for next summer, but I wanted it this summer (you will come to find that I can be very impatient). I was so upset at myself for not taking care of my body throughout the entire school year. Instead, I ignored any health problem I had so I could be with friends, study, or be at WOUB on campus.

A month and 20 pounds later, I am almost over this disease. I had red dots all over my body, I lost so much weight, my hearing was damaged, and I slept for practically a month. Blood test after blood test, aspirins, constant visits to doctors; I swear Northwestern Hospital should know me by name by now. All this free time that I've had this month has helped me instead of harmed me, like I originally thought.

I have been spending this time getting healthy as a way to continue my work. I have been writing constantly, whether it's on this blog or it's a sports piece for SportsRants Women. I have been working on my memoirs non stop. While my family went on their vacation, I spent time with my grandfather (by that, I mean he spoiled me). I've found this new strength, both physical and mental, that I've never experienced. This time has taught me to think of each sharp turn down this road of life as the long way to acheiving my goals and aspirations. Eventually, I'll get there with hard work, connections, and a bit of luck. Am I happy I got mono? No, but I am happy with what this disease did to me: open my eyes a bit more and just go along for the drive on this road of life.

Being a Big Girl: Another Step in Adulthood

What a month. I'm now a junior in college; it feels like it was just yesterday that I graduated high school. Time really flies when you do what you love. I finished the torturous finals week and was ready to start my summer. I was only home for three weeks, and boy, did they put me to the test.

I knew coming back home was going to be difficult. My grandmother's health was declining, friends were in town for only a short while, and I was only going to be home for three weeks. I had a lot to do in a short amount of time. My first week was spent with family seeing as my friends were just then entering their finals week. I visited my grandmother on almost a daily basis, checking in and making sure everything was ok.

Days pass by, and her health deteriorated rapidly. She was having a hard time just doing basic things, like breathing. She was able to make it through Mother's Day, but shortly there after, she took her last breath. My grandmother passed away on May 18, one week before I was supposed to leave for the summer.

I apologize for starting on a sad note, but when you lose someone that close to you, it needs to be stated first and foremost. I was able to catch up with my friends, patch up differences with old friends, and make new ones as well. I was able to see a few friends of mine that I haven't seen since I was 10 years old. I met new people at my grandmother's memorial service and at random restaurants all over the city.

However, this past week alone has taught me that I'm not just Mom and Dad's daughter; I need to grow and be on my own. Yes, that's what college is for, exploring new found independence, but eventually, you come home. Sometimes, you see your parents in their weakest states and have to be their shoulder to cry and depend on. Other times, you realize that your siblings will age and become more and more mature; they don't need you to mother them anymore.

I've had both revelations this past week. Being the oldest, I am already someone that the family depends on with petty housework and babysitting. But when I became an emotional pillar for my mother, that's when reality really kicked in. I have to grow up and stop acting like a child. I have to be there for my family (as everyone should always be there for their families), but I also need to grow and flourish as an individual and as a journalist.

This past week, I had the amazing opportunity to get a tour of Halas Hall and meet with the communications department of the Chicago Bears. I was able to pick their brains for knowledge and frankly anything that could give me an edge in the extremely competitive journalism field. I wanted to make my name resonate in their minds and make them remember me as maybe a future potential employee, not just a star struck Bears fan.

Now, as you're reading this, I'm on my way to Omaha, Nebraska, to start my first professional internship. I've had this position since March, and now the anticipation is over. I'm taking my first baby step into adulthood by making my first solo road trip to another state. I'm going to get a taste of what living off of the Mom and Dad fund (well, not entirely off) is going to feel like. Only two years separate me from the real world. It's time to grow up and become a big girl.

Death of Personal Beauty

I'm just going to take a second and let you grasp what this post is going to be about: death. No one likes to write about issues like this. That's what the obituaries are for: reporting people that have died. A girl who is only a sophomore in college has no right or experience to speak about death and the toll it has on a person's life. Oh I'm sorry, I didn't know that age was a factor. Sorry to burst your bubble buddy, but until you have walked in my shoes for a day, then just quiet down for a hot second.

Death. Death means many things; it could mean the death of a person, an idea, a trend, or a soul. It could mean that someone has brutally attacked another person that caused the victim to re-evaluate everything in their life. It could also mean that someone was physically attacked with a gun, knife, cancer, or disease that took them away from this planet.

In today's society, it seems like the latter is happening to people at younger and younger ages. Just recently in Chicago, a 14 year old shot and killed another classmate. Take that in for a moment. A 14 year old used a gun to kill another classmate. What was the motive? It's unknown at this point in the investigation.

That's just in a neighborhood. I'm going to let you into my walled up life to see what death of a human being can do to someone. In my short span of almost 20 years on this great Earth of ours, I have lost 15 people in my life, ranging from family members to best friends. To sum it up: I'll just give you a list real quick:
 - I saw my best friend's body(he was 18) hanging from a rafter at the age of 14
 - My grandfather, two uncles, and cousin died of cancer
 - Six close friends of mine died from drug overdosees (All were 14, 15, 17, 18, 20, and 22)
 - A classmate of mine drowned (He was 17)
 - An infant of a family friend of mine died of downs syndrome (She was 3)
 - Another best friend of mine was shot and killed by a gang member (He was 24)
 - Another close friend of mine died of alcohol poisoning on her 21st birthday

All of these happened in span from 2009-2014. In a span of 5 years, I have lost 15 people close to me in my life. Do you notice something that is consistent? Excluding the family members, all these deaths are happening to youth, young adults, even infants.

In today's society, there are MILLIONS of pressures put on youth that so many people do not even realize stress out these children. Parental pressure to get the best grades, sibling comparison to why you aren't as athletic or intelligent, peer pressure to do drugs or drink early on, media pressures to look a certain way, and personal pressures to be successful.

Some people cannot handle these stressors in a healthy way. All of my friends that committed suicide or died of drug overdose were ridiculously stressed out. The reason my friends did drugs was to escape reality and the stress of the real world. They didn't have a healthy outlet to relieve their stress; they decided to shoot up, snort, or smoke instead. It put them in a different realm where the real world didn't matter for a few moments. That realm needs to exist outside of a drug high.

Here's a message to all these people: STOP PUTTING PRESSURE ON THESE CHILDREN.

Parents, stop comparing your children to their siblings. John Doe will never be the same as Mary Doe and vice versa. Even if Mary is the star child, athlete, or whatever, don't compare John to her. He has a different skill set than her; he has different talents than her. No two people are ever the exact same; stop trying to make it that way.

Peers and friends: don't pressure people to do things they don't want to do. If someone does not want to drink, don't call them a loser, dork, wuss, etc. Just accept it and live your life. Stop trying to control their actions. They are their own person and will do what they want to do. Let them make their own decisions and live through their mistakes or successes. It's not your place to mold them to be your perfect friend.

The media, oh boy. I am a part of the media; I am a journalist. I know the pressures the media is putting on society, and I am a part of it. Honestly, these media personnel, especially Hollywood, stop defining beauty. As cliche as this may sound, "Beauty is in the eye of the beholder." What one person finds attractive in one person, someone else may not find attractive.

For example, I know many girls that find very buff, ripped men very attractive. Personally, those people scare me; they look like they have bowling balls in their body. I find a man in a suit 1,000 times more attractive than a guy in a bro tank and salmon-colored shorts.

There are differences among people; stop trying to create this "perfection" image. It's not about what the people look like, well slightly. It's about the personality that's attached to it. I know MANY men that are ridiculously attractive but treat me like I'm a piece of meat. I am not your slave; I am an independent woman that will tell you to get off your own two feet and get yourself a sandwhich. I am not here to serve you; I am here because we both are attracted to each other, physically and emotionally.

Ladies, embrace yourself. Give yourself confidence and work your flaws. These stressors that society, parents, peers, and siblings are using against you? Push them aside and just work through it. Be strong and confident about yourself, both physically and emotionally. Not everyone can fit the 5'6" skinny, blonde, tan, athletic housewife stereotype that society is making us buy. I know I sure don't. I'm 6'1" and believe me when I say that men are intimidated by my height alone. It's quite frustrating.

Men, the same goes for you. You don't have to look like Ryan Gosling or David Beckham. That's what we have them for, to look at. What we want from you? A caring, chivalrous, supportive, humorous partner in life. We're not looking for a father or a slave master; we're looking for someone to be our partner and support us emotionally; someone that loves us for how big our personality is, not how big our rack is.

These stressors are causing these youthful deaths. Stop pushing these pressures on the youth. Another cliche, but this generation is the future. Stop pressuring us to be something we are not. We are who we want to be. You're going to have to accept it and deal with.