New sportswriter is back among the palms

I knew I would miss palm trees upon boarding my flight to Boston.

They appeared increasingly smaller beneath me as the plane ascended, and amid the bittersweet sentiments I felt as a new UCLA graduate, a strange reality sank in.

Those swaying fronds were behind me for good.

No more would I regularly stroll around a campus decorated with them. No more would I regularly attend sporting events where they encircled the venue.

Photo by Jack Nelson

Like many others who journey to tropical areas of the globe, I came to associate these trees with a certain sense of reassurance — a sign of peace and relaxation ahead. But the education I absorbed over four hard years tells me otherwise. 

Aesthetics aside, palm trees do little good for the climate around them. They produce a negligible amount of oxygen, offer sparse shade and they guzzle up water. The Climate Science degree hanging on my wall always reminds me of that much.

Then again, science didn’t bring me here to East County and Sarasota. There are different stories to be told.

I’m honored to introduce myself — Jack Nelson — as your newest sports reporter for the East County and Sarasota/Siesta Key Observers. Florida has been my home for just over a week, but my excitement about this new opportunity has been building up for far longer.

My detour from STEM student to sports nut seems odd, but to me, it’s not much of a detour at all. I grew up in the golden age of Boston professional sports. It was only natural to admire championship culture and idolize superstars.

By the time I departed from my hometown of Scituate, Massachusetts for college, a love for the wide world of sports burned bright. But it was never cultivated as an athlete myself.

A lion’s share of my playing days were spent on the diamond. When my time in the dugout began to outweigh my time on the field, I tried my hand at tennis. Both careers were ill-fated, so, like many other journalists past and present, I turned to writing to feed my hunger.

Admittance to UCLA felt like a stroke of luck. Joining the Daily Bruin was a stroke of genius. 

My start with the school’s independent, student-run newspaper was a humble one — covering men’s tennis matches remotely as a freshman during the COVID-19 pandemic. Reporting at the Rose Bowl and Pauley Pavilion three years later felt that much more rewarding because of it.

Working as a student journalist is how I discovered the blueprint to who I am now. Time has passed since my graduation in June 2024, but to this day, it’s impossible to forget such a foundation.

More recently, I served as a high school sports clerk for MassLive, an experience which showed me the ever-valuable, yet often-daunting nature of prep coverage. Either beads of sweat rolled down my face in the heat or my fingers lost feeling in the cold as I furiously wrote stories from the passenger seat of my car.

You can also find my byline in the NBA and USA Basketball — opportunities that, at one point, had me sitting at the same table as LeBron James and Stephen Curry. I sure can’t dunk, but I sure love writing about one. 

A new adventure has arrived. And even if the plentiful Sabal palmettos suggest otherwise, this will be no vacation.

I intend to give my all in the interest of bringing untold stories to life. From the outset, I seek to understand the ins and outs of this thriving athletic community at the heart of southwest Florida.

That process begins with having conversations and building relationships. Whether it’s a casual introduction, a formal interview or anything in-between, I fully believe that maintaining trust is paramount to my position.

I’ll never sway from the facts that fuel my storytelling. Quality, accuracy and speed are the tenets of my daily grind. I expect nothing less of myself, and you reserve the right to expect nothing less either in that regard.

That being said, the journey has only just begun. I plan on hitting the ground running, but as I’m getting my bearings, help is greatly appreciated by this 23-year-old reporter. Tips, story ideas, questions, concerns and more are always welcomed.

It was a big decision to leave my life behind in Massachusetts. The gravity of it all hit me when the Amtrak auto train I was supposed to take here was cancelled — after I had already driven all the way to Virginia — and I wound up driving all 20-plus hours alone.

To make such a move, I always told myself it would have to be the right position, and the right time. Both are true beyond a shadow of doubt.

How wonderful it is to see those swaying fronds once more. They look more beautiful than ever.