Howie: We're expanding our sports coverage this fall

It’s been a long road to this point — the launch of Howie Sports — and I’ve walked it in cleats, skates, and press passes. I’ve sweated through double sessions, skated end-to-end drills until my lungs burned, and stood in the bitter November wind with numb fingers clutching a notebook. I’ve lived this stuff, not as a hobby but as a lifetime — as a player, a sportswriter, and a witness to the endless drama of our games.

I’ve played on bad ankles, broken my nose seven times, and in rinks where your breath turned to fog before you hit the ice, in gyms so loud you couldn’t hear your name. I remember my high school days — bus rides that smelled like leather jackets and Atomic Fireballs, the quiet moments before a big game, the thrill of hearing your name called over the PA. That feeling never leaves you, whether in uniform or in the press box with a laptop.

My early years covering sports were just as gritty. I’d be huddled in the corner of a locker room, scribbling notes while steam rose from the showers and a coach chewed out the team. I learned fast to keep my head down, ears open, and pen moving. I covered games where the bleachers shook under stomping feet and others where you could count the crowd on both hands. Reporting in empty arenas, gyms, ballparks, and football stadiums during COVID seems like an award-winning episode of Twilight Zone.

These days? I still get the same charge from being at a Tuesday night hockey game in January, the stands half full, the Zamboni carving fresh ice. I’ve seen senior captains play their last shift with tears freezing on their cheeks and backup quarterbacks step into history because someone ahead of them went down. I’ve been there when the Bulldogs stormed the ice as conference champs and when they were packing up after a season gone sideways.

I know the difference between left and right field. I know why Scott Sandelin will sit his star player for an entire period to make a point, even if it costs him the game. I know how to pronounce and spell a player’s name right the first time — because I’ve been doing it for decades. Rarely a week goes by when a now-grown former high schooler doesn’t stop me in a grocery store aisle or drop me a text saying, “You were the first reporter to interview me. Man, was I scared, but you made me feel comfortable. Everyone asked if I'd seen the story. Thanks for the ink.”

I remember when the Bulldogs men’s hockey program wasn’t just a team — it was a force. Winning conference championships. Crashing the NCAA tournament like they owned the place. Competing for national titles. And Brett Hull? He was a one-man show with the puck — a laser shot and a bigger-than-life personality, equal parts deadly finisher and lovable rogue. The kind of player who could make a coach scream one minute and beam the next. Characters like that don’t just make teams — they define eras.

And that’s what I want Howie Sports to capture: the soul of our games, the real story, the truth in all its messy glory. We’ll cover the Bulldogs like we’re in the locker room — because sometimes we are. We’ll cover preps with the kind of edge you only get from being in the bleachers on a cold night when the wind’s blowing sideways. We’ll name names when praise is due, and we’ll name names when a player’s not getting it done.

This isn’t corporate sports media. This isn’t fluff. Howie Sports is Independent. Local. Unfiltered. Fifty years in the game — telling you who’s hot, who’s not, and who needs a swift kick in the behind. I’ve got experience, the contacts, and the stubborn streak to do it my way — the way our sports deserve to be covered.

We’ve all been through enough hollow coverage. It’s time to get the real thing. And if this project inspires you — if you believe in telling our sports stories without filters or fluff — then by all means, support it. Share it. Show up for it. Every word, every story, every honest sentence is built for the fans, the players, and the communities that make this region tick.

Game on.