Monday, July 19, 2010
Allow us to (re)introduce ourselves ...
By Scott Barboza and Brendan Hall
Introducing … A 6-5 defenseman from Fall River, Massachusetts … Scott Barboza.
That was my childhood dream set to the sizzle of Alex Van Halen’s hi-hat (for those of you in high school, ask your parents who that was and then listen to ‘Right Now’). I’d come skating out donned in the six-spoked sweater just like the Providence Bruins did in the age of the immortal Glen Featherstone (for those of you in high school, don’t bother asking your parents who that was).
Obviously, things didn’t work out in that fashion. I grew into the frame of a Chara-like defenseman and I tried hard. Let’s just say it took a while for my coordination skills to catch up with my gangly frame as a youngster.
Despite my J.V. level skill set across a gamut of sports — baseball, track and a touch of basketball as a lad — I knew from before the time I attended Bishop Connolly High in Fall River (the school on Elsbree Street not named Durfee) that I wanted to be involved in sports some way, somehow.
That path took me to Emerson College and, after graduation, to the Taunton Daily Gazette, where I cut my teeth primarily on the local high school sports scene. From there, I took a spin into the world of pro sports, working the last three whirlwind seasons as a member of the Patriots media relations department.
When the opportunity presented itself to join ESPNBoston’s ranks and work with Brendan on this enterprise, I knew my ship had come in. The opportunity to join my passions for writing, video production and sports is truly a dream come true.
Here’s to the great ride ahead.
Brendan's take One of the easiest decisions of my life came in May, when I was offered the opportunity to hop aboard ESPNBoston.com as one of its high school editors. I’d covered everything in my time with the Boston Globe, from the four major pro teams to New England’s numerous Division 1 colleges, and have even dabbled briefly in police writing.
But for me, nothing beats the thrill of Friday nights under the lights. To players, Friday night games are the ones you lose sleep over. To reporters such as myself, they’re a breath of fresh air, a healthy reminder of the experience of sport at its roots.
Try as I might in the local weight rooms, I’ll never be able to re-live my glory days as the world’s greatest high school football practice hero - I’m a 5 foot 10 power forward; you figure it out - so maybe writing about it is the next-best thing.