Every once in a while, I would break out the box from my closet. I’d sit on the floor of my room, carefully removing each binder filled with yellowed, clipped-out articles. I would spend hours reading each of those stories. As I got older, I’d not only read them, but study them.

Study how they were written, the details, the depth of reporting. But the byline on each of those stories is what made me most proud.

“By Jim Donaghy.”

My uncle. He died of cancer when I was only about 3 years old. I only have faint memories of the man who would become a role model, inspiration and, ultimately, the reason why I followed in the same career path.

My uncle was a sports writer for the Associated Press, mainly a baseball writer for the final eight years of his life. I listened to the stories my family told of him. A humble, reserved man, he rarely divulged many details. The ones he did were enough for my family to retell me.

I heard about his trips to Florida to cover Spring Training. I heard about his annual trip to Cooperstown to cover the Hall of Fame ceremony.

They told me about his poise and his calm during a frantic couple of minutes at the 1989 World Series, when a 6.9 earthquake struck the city in the minutes before Game 3. He stayed in the press box while almost everyone else fled for safety, and he filed a brilliantly written, descriptive account of the scene.

He covered every World Series from 1986 through 1993, and I loved reading every game story or sidebar he wrote from each of those games.

And scattered throughout my room are the remnants from his remarkable — albeit too short — career. His Baseball Writers’ Association of America card. Some of his press passes. A glass display with all the press pins from the World Series and All-Star Games he covered.

All of this shaped my desire to become a sports writer. From the time I was 9, I was a devoted baseball fan. Just like my uncle was. I loved to break down statistics and read every baseball book and article I could find. Just like my uncle did.

I wanted to turn this into a career like he did. I wanted to tell the stories. I wanted to witness incredible games, spectacular moments and share the stories that resulted.

I dreamed of becoming a sports writer. I came to Syracuse hoping to make it reality. And I came to The Daily Orange because this is where I knew it could happen.

In the past four years, I’ve covered everything from volleyball to football to men’s basketball.

I covered the football team’s win over West Virginia in the Pinstripe Bowl. I stood on the Verizon Center court watching Jim Boeheim cut down the net after his Orange won the East region. I covered Syracuse’s improbable run to the Final Four, right up to its loss to Michigan down in Atlanta.

Most of all, I had the chance to work alongside some of the same writers my uncle worked with. And each time I sat in a press box, I thought about how lucky I was. I knew I was in the middle of accomplishing a dream that grew from those hours of digging through that box.

I combined a love of sports with a love of writing. For the last four years, I had the chance to work for The Daily Orange, writing the stories I always wanted to write. From the Pinstripe Bowl to the Final Four, it’s been a blast.

Perhaps most of all, I’ve gotten to fill my own binders.

Just like my uncle.

Chris Iseman is the sports editor at The Daily Orange, where his column no longer appears. He can be reached at cjiseman@syr.edu, or on Twitter @chris_iseman.

Published on April 30, 2013 at 12:40 am