The Best Part Was Never the Access

As I step away, I find myself thinking less about the games than the people who made covering them such a rewarding experience.

---

I thought the hardest part about stepping away from covering the Bulls and Sky would be losing access.

The locker room.

The press room.

Practices.

The tunnel before tipoff.

The postgame scrums.

That's what I thought I'd miss.

I was wrong.

The best part was never the access.

It was the people.

Before my first game, I must’ve peppered Terrence Tomlin and Eugene McIntosh with a hundred questions. They’d trusted me to cover the Bulls, and I didn't want to let them down.

Where do I park? What am I supposed to wear? Where do I sit? How does this all work?

It's funny now, but at the time, it wasn't. I was terrified of getting something wrong.

I still remember walking into the tunnel at the United Center. The first recognizable face I saw wasn't a Bull. It was Rick Carlisle.

That was the moment it hit me. I was actually here.

Over the next few years, there would be a lot of moments like that.

I never got used to any of them.

Like I often do in new environments, I wanted to blend in more than I wanted to stand out.

Early on, I'd ask Billy Donovan questions using players' full names.

"Billy, how did you think Alex Caruso..."

It was one of those little reminders that I was learning the rhythm of an NBA beat.

Somewhere along the way, that changed. The job didn't become less intimidating. I just became more comfortable.

Part of that was because of the people around me.

I'll never forget overhearing K.C. Johnson telling someone in public relations that I asked good questions. He probably has no idea how much confidence that gave me.

I'll also never forget the time Johnson quietly reached over during a scrum with Coby White, who was back at the United Center after being traded to Charlotte.

Without saying a word, he took my recorder and moved it closer to White so I'd actually be able to hear what I was recording later.

Neither moment made a headline. Both stayed with me.

One of the most memorable moments of my time with The Bigs came in October 2023, when I traveled to Belmont University in Nashville to cover the first day of Bulls training camp.

Even now, it's hard to believe that sentence is true.

I flew in that morning, covered practice, interviewed Donovan and a couple of players, and flew back home later that afternoon.

It was the only time I traveled to cover the team, and somewhere during the day I caught myself thinking,

"So this is what it's like to be part of the traveling beat.

“I could get used to this.”

Then practice ended.

As other members of the beat were making plans to meet up later, I pulled out my phone and requested an Uber back to the airport.

They were heading to dinner.

I was heading home.

Looking back, that day told the whole story.

I wasn't a full-time beat writer. I was a healthcare provider chasing a dream in whatever pockets of time life allowed.

And honestly, I wouldn't have traded that day for anything.

There were moments throughout this journey that never stopped feeling surreal.

Walking into the Bulls' locker room for the first time and seeing Nikes on top of Nikes on top of Nikes stacked to the top of DeMar DeRozan's locker.

Meeting Kevin Durant after a game and discovering that someone of his stature could be so genuine and generous with his time.

Having the chance to co-host the inaugural season of By The Horns with fellow Saluki Cam Smith.

Those are experiences I'll always treasure.

But the memories that keep coming back aren't the glamorous ones.

They're the ordinary ones.

The security guards who greeted me with a smile.

The parking attendant who eventually recognized my car and would wave me through with, “Drew Stevens with The Bigs, right?"

Something changed.

I stopped feeling like I was visiting and started feeling like I belonged.

Covering the Sky reinforced that lesson.

Walking into Wintrust Arena for the first time, I expected to feel like the new guy all over again.

Instead, I saw familiar faces.

That reminded me that this basketball community had become a little smaller.

As I step away, I find myself thinking less about the games than the people who made covering them such a rewarding experience.

I think about Terrence, Eugene and Herb Howard. I think about the reporters who welcomed me, the PR staffs, the security personnel, the game-day staff and the players and coaches who were generous with their time.

My role may be changing. My curiosity isn't.

I'll still be watching the Bulls and Sky. Just from a different seat.

When I told Terrence I planned to step away, I thought our conversation was over.

A couple of mornings later, he texted one more idea.

"What if you wrote one last piece?"

Later he told me something I'll never forget: :This is a family... this is a see you later."

The first time I walked into the United Center, I thought the greatest privilege this job could offer was access.

I know better now.

The best part was never the access.

It was the people.