For nearly a year, I have had an amazing opportunity. I have had a chance to experience major college athletics firsthand. I wasn’t a journalism student — in fact, the journalism school rejected my application — but my former editors Lars Russell and Mary Motzko saw more than the imperfect GPA the university had used to judge me. To them, I say thanks.

This is the last Badger Herald in which you will find my name listed as a sports editor. While this might be one of the most enjoyable jobs I will ever have, it would be rather selfish of me to continue on for another semester when there are other students that deserve the same chance I was given.

I’ll still write the occasional story or column (bad news for those that don’t enjoy my ramblings or repeated attempts at humor), and I’ll try and put a positive stamp on the HoopsAmerica page, but control of the Herald Sports section is now in the capable hands of Mike Giefer and Stacy Hicklin. I am confident they’ll continue the Herald Sports tradition.

However, I’m not one for overly sentimental going-away columns, so let’s look back upon some of the more notable UW sporting moments that happened under my watch.

Bo’s improbable beginning

The story has been told over and over again, but it is a feat that in all likelihood will not be repeated any time soon, if ever. The last Big Ten title the Badgers had won in men’s basketball came in 1947. No one ever expected one in 2002.

Having just been assigned the men’s basketball beat in the fall of 2001, one could say I was ecstatic. Covering men’s basketball for my favorite team would be great, even if it meant that I would probably suffer through one of the worst seasons that Badger fans had seen recently. All signs pointed that way, after all.

A new coach was in place. The core of the team that had seemed to be around forever was gone. Some were gone because of graduations, while others left the program. Wisconsin barely had enough players to practice, so it held tryouts to bolster its numbers.

Wisconsin began the season struggling mightily, and where other teams may have quit, it got better, and much to everyone’s surprise it became one of the best teams in the Big Ten.

As the season unfolded, Wisconsin found itself with an opportunity to own a piece of the title. It didn’t let it slip past either. The team downed Michigan, the fans charged the court, and the players cut down nets.

Lights out in Las Vegas

This was certainly the best way I could have ever hoped to begin the semester, or a sports season, for that matter. This job comes with certain perks; a good excuse to head to Vegas was certainly one of them

We arrived in the city fashionably early and immediately set out to take advantage of all the town had to offer. Countless Badger fans were on hand, and many of them were Madison students.

I drank, I gambled (sometimes for incredible stretches), found some clubs and watched a friend attempt to chat up Gary Payton (she did get a bottle of Cristal from him). Another friend realized he couldn’t afford Cristal after a bartender opened a bottle, and told him it was $500. He just walked away with a dumb look on his face.

When the game arrived, the Badgers played well. They intercepted passes, forced fumbles and shot the lights out on offense, literally.

As the game was nearing a close, the lights in the stadium went black, while the ones in the press box flickered on and off. The UW band struck up a merry tune, fans sang and danced. The darkness caused the teams to call it quits with Wisconsin victorious.

I still think the Vegas bookies had a hand in it.

Celebrating the axe

Time expired, and as I looked down the sideline B.J. Tucker led a wave of white jerseys across the field. Tucker, being the fastest, was the first to put his hands on the prize that is Paul Bunyan’s axe.

As the team mobbed him, I started across the field, watching the players celebrate around Tucker and, alternately, watching the crowd’s reaction. A sea of 70,000 cheering Badger fans is truly something to behold.

Near midfield, I looked back toward the team, and suddenly it had begun its victory lap, and for some reason it had decided not to run along the edge of the stadium but to run directly across it first.

More to the point, Al Johnson led the way, wildly swinging the axe with cousin Ben and the rest of his linemates just a step behind. Feeling a bit like an animal stuck in front of a stampede, I ran 10 yards to safety, turned and watched the thundering herd go by.

I know I won’t forget any of these things, and I have my time at the Herald to thank for these memories, along with so many more.