I have been a Connecticut resident for 15 years.
That sentence sounds ridiculous to me, even after all these years. I still think of myself as an Oklahoman. I still get Tulsa weather alerts, read the local papers, and follow elections in the Sooner State.
But Aug. 1 was my 15-year anniversary at ESPN. That sentence also sounds ridiculous. Working here was always a dream, and to say I made it this long – after moving halfway across the country to start a new life – is something I never thought I’d do. Now, my ESPN career is a year away from driving.
To say I jumped into the sports ecosphere is to put it mildly. I eat, sleep and breathe all things sports, and understand the business way beyond what happens on the gaming surface. Sports is dramatic, full of ego and emotion, and absolutely thrilling. I have never regretted leaving the news world, which I did because I used to go drink with the guys in the Tulsa World sports department and they convinced me I could make it in sports.
And I am still “et up,” as Okies say. I pay way, way more attention to sports than anything else in the world. It impresses my teenage sons and their friends. But boy, I am woefully behind on “real news.”
The spouse asked me the other day about my sister in Seattle and whether she is close to the wildfires.
“Fires?” I asked. “What fires?”
Now, if I had been asked about Seattle Seahawks Quarterback Sam Darnold, and whether he is actually a good quarterback or was just the beneficiary of good receiver, I could have gone on and on.
Did I next call my sister to check on her? Yes. She’s fine.
This is the kind of job that can eat you alive if you let it, but I have done my best to navigate it. My accent and weird way of speaking notwithstanding, Okies have an earnestness that is appreciated up here. We aren’t trying to be fancy. I’m possibly too honest — like a lot of us are — and tell it like it is. And they love when I say “y’all.”
I still felt like the freshest turnip off the truck for about three years. I will share a secret from my first weeks of work in 2011 here.
On my first day:
— I wore my sweater inside-out. I assumed I’d be fired right away, but I don’t know if anyone even noticed.
— I asked where the pop machine was and was greeted with blank stares until I squeaked, “Where can I get a Diet Coke?” and then was told the “soda” machines were on the second floor.
— I answered the phone when I shouldn’t have. I’d been an editor at smaller newspapers forever and felt inclined to help — and Adam Schefter, our superhero of an NFL reporter, was on the line to break news. Adam’s from Long Island, and he was in a hurry. A stream of words I did not understand came from him, and I panicked and told him we had a bad connection and hung up. He called back and I let someone else pick it up. Now, he’s a teammate, and I fully understand his accent — and New York/Boston talk in general.
It’s a steep learning curve to go from Oklahoma newspapers to the Worldwide Leader in Sports, but the biggest lesson I have learned is entrenched in Oklahoma: Treat people fairly, honestly, and with real care, and your work will be appreciated.
I meet famous people a lot — I went to a wedding in July that had both Tim Tebow and Lil’ Wayne in attendance — but it does not affect me much anymore. Treat them with the same respect you’d treat someone you don’t know, and not much more. Not until they earn it.
I’m incredibly grateful and I love Connecticut, but I would commit crimes for some Oklahoma Mexican food — or Braum’s. Connecticut will never have that.
Sarah Hart is a news editor for ESPN. A Muskogee native, she is a former news editor for the Tahlequah Daily Press.