Sometimes being an intern is a lot like being a AAA pitcher.
You spend months on end rumbling at the bottom of the barrel, pitching no-name pitches for no-name leagues to an audience of girlfriends and in-laws. You feel good you got into the business, simply grateful to be given the opportunity to make the next step. You feel that your years of training were not a waste, at least not yet. And the one special moment in life you live for is to be awoken from a drunken stupor from that one special phone call that sends you yet another opportunity.
Then all of a sudden, you get it.
You make the front page.
After a month and a half of reporting lowly internish stories about the weather, museum exhibitions and charity basketball games, I got that one special call.
It seemed a Virginia resident was enraged that the teachers union at his local high school sent an e-mail encouraging teachers to wear blue for “Blue Obama Day” and also to register students to vote … for Obama.
I thought to myself … this is gold.
A half-day later, I’m finished with the story, I send it to my editor, and he says, “This is gold.”
And it was. The next morning, I see my name on the first page of The Washington Times. It’s quite a sight to behold, those big, bold letters that confirm your existence to thousands of coffee-inflated commuters. Then you think, this is cool.
But wait, the awesomeness doesn’t end.
You see your article was referenced on Drudge Report, the head editor wants to shake your hand, and a complete stranger whom you’ve never laid eyes on asks for you by name, says, “Excellent work, Mike,” and hands you a Kit-Kat bar.
Making the big leagues never felt so weird.
— Michael Drost, Metro Desk intern