May 5, 2016

Gonzales Inquirer

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Don’t miss out on life’s second chances

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Posted: Monday, March 5, 2012 7:23 pm

I’ve always been a firm believer in second chances.

Just 18 months ago, I was provided with a second chance at journalism. I got out of the business for a year to pursue a career in education.

But shortly after getting into education, I realized something was missing. I felt like a round peg in a square hole or a fish out of water in the classroom – or Dennis Miller on Monday Night Football.

To emphasize how out of place I was in teaching, I considered joining the Army and going through Officer Candidate School. But before I answered Uncle Sam’s call, I answered a call from the Madisonville Meteor.

I was offered the position of sports editor for The Meteor, which I gladly accepted. I started a week later, and am glad to be back where I belong – journalism.

There’s something I love about being a sports writer. Heck, there are several things I love about it.

I don’t have to work the normal “9-to-5” shift, I get to attend athletic events, meet people from all walks of life and travel to different towns that I never dreamed of venturing as a child. To put it all in a nutshell, I love what I do.

After a 10-month tenure in Madisonville, I answered another call – one from the Gonzales Inquirer. I was offered the sports editor position at The Inquirer, which I gladly accepted.

The Inquirer and Meteor are both part of Granite Publications, and it is a privilege to be a part of this family of newspapers. It’s also a privilege to cover Gonzales, Nixon-Smiley, Waelder, St. Paul and Shiner.

Based on what happened two weeks ago, I felt it was appropriate to express my appreciation and gratitude to work at The Inquirer and for being associated with five quality schools. My cousin, Steve Sandefur, passed away Feb. 20.

That was a call I wasn’t prepared for at all. My mom called me to inform me of Steve’s passing while I was driving to Shiner for the St. Paul girls basketball team’s second-round playoff game against Austin Waldorf.

Steve was 41, and a great guy who loved his family, children and the Dallas Cowboys. He left behind two sons, Austin (10-years-old) and Ty (8).

I looked up to Steve, and we watched the Cowboys play every Thanksgiving. When 3:30 p.m. hit on Thanksgiving Day, you knew where Steve and I were going to be — in front of the television watching the Cowboys.

I last talked to Steve during Thanksgiving weekend, and he seemed to be in good spirits.

While I wish I could’ve had one more conversation with Steve, I will always remember the times we spent together, especially when we watched the Cowboys.

I know Steve will be watching over the Cowboys this fall.

I guess the roof of Cowboys Stadium is open so that God and Steve can watch their favorite team so hopefully they’ll have something to cheer about upstairs.

I’m not one for sentiment, but I learned to let my family know how much I love them every time I talk to them, and to let people know how much I appreciate them.

Because you never know if you’ll get a second chance to do so.

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