Before you read any further, know that the following article provides insight to the human spirit, a direct exclusive on yours truly. I fear if you don’t take this view, the subsequent passage may strike you unabashedly narcissistic. Again, please treat this text as nothing more than a case study. Learn from the mistakes, the trials and tribulations of a baby boy who grew up to become a baby man. While no mistakes will be listed in this article, know that I have made them. Let that be a lesson to all you kids out there!
Along the way, I hope to entertain with a bit of humor but only a bit. This is my sales pitch to you, no tricks. Proceed at your own peril as I fearlessly use the ignorant “I” at an alarming rate.
Hi brothers and sisters, my name is Chris Ryan aka “Chris Ryan”. Interested? Unless you’re Aunt Verna, or the kid who follows me at the grocery store, unlikely. But hey, you’ve read this far, so I may have you pegged wronger than a whistle.
I am a recent graduate of Michigan State University where I received a Bachelor’s in Journalism. A native of the Metro Detroit area, I am ready to give my all in exchange for a shot at this business. That’s three “I”s in two sentences! If you have gotten this far, needless to say, I like you quite a bit.
It all started on a hot summer day at the end of August. Me, a big baby, and my mother, a small lady, but after 18 hours of labor, it happened. I opened my eyes and said hello to the world. “Hello world,” said I. The next day I went to college, and my journey began.
I got my start at Grand Valley State University where I hosted and produced radio programs on WCKS the Whale with a major in Broadcasting. Only a day old, I experienced excitement for the first time.
My favorite show I worked on was Ryan’s Rant, a program that gave me great freedom to talk about my passion of sports. Each week, I could bring in a different guest host and talk to my listeners about the latest national and local sports topics. Listeners could call in and voice their opinions like Detroit’s very own sports station, 97.1 The Ticket.
Let me just say, I had so many listeners. What can I say? I guess people love hearing babies talk. Later that night, I turned two days old and became a Spartan!
At Michigan State, I focused on taking my excruciatingly fantastic radio talent to the telly. Focal Point, MSU’s one and only news program, taught me invaluable skills in writing, editing, shooting, reporting, and anchoring.
If you have gotten to this point, I would like to say I love you. Unfortunately, I have intimacy issues.
However, I did fall in love with sports. From day one, I kept especially heavy tabs on baseball, football and basketball, from high school athletics to the professionals. If you ever wanted to know how the third-string long snapper is doing for the Bridgewater State Bears, I would be your guy. On second thought, that might have been slightly outside my range of expertise. Again, at the time I was just a cute, little, tiny, small, baby boy. Yes, I did just use three synonyms in a row. Do I regret it? Sometimes.
At four days old, I got my first internship with isportsweb.com. They assigned me to write editorials on the Detroit Lions. A lifelong Lions fan, I accepted and made my first smile.
Five days old and I accepted my second internship with the Sports Dept. at WXYZ (Channel 7) of Detroit. Learning from the best, meeting my heroes and experiencing some amazing events made for a joyride in the workplace. I could write endlessly about this opportunity, but I fear I’m rambling.
So, graduation came around the corner, and just like that 22 years went by.
My adventure at HOMTV began three weeks ago. A host of foreign faces became downright lovable in a matter of, well, three weeks. I didn’t realize it at first, but HOMTV truly is a HOMe away from home. Two homes for one boy? Ridiculous, I say! Much more on this internship to come in future posts. “I tease the audience so they come back!”- me.
Fast forwarding to the future, I dream of being a sports personality in Detroit to be near the city and people I dearly care for. 40 “I”s later, and I am done. Make that 41.