This is a personal column about assistant sports editor Noah Vinsky’s first-hand experience covering men’s basketball.

Sports have always run in my blood. Growing up, ESPN was nearly on a constant loop on my living room television.

I came to USF knowing I wanted to be a writer. The Oracle seemed like a great place to combine both of my loves. 

I was first assigned to cover men’s basketball early on in the 2022 season. The team was winless and coach Brian Gregory was on the hot seat. 

But there was one thing that was glaringly evident. 

Where were all the fans? 

I was dipping my toes into the ocean of sports journalism at the time. 

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Game days were like funerals. I don’t think I covered a win that entire season. 

This wasn’t the high-flying life of a sports writer that I always envisioned. 

But I stuck it out. I wanted to be on the frontlines of a nationally ranked program. 

To do that, I had to be a better journalist. I added a mass communications major. I actively began trying to mimic some of my favorite sports reporters. I started to challenge myself with more complex, long-form stories. 

Journalism is an art, and I became determined to master it. 

Eventually, I got my wish.

I remember the moment I knew this year’s team was special. It was the first day of winter break, Jan. 9, a neutral-site matchup against Florida State. 

I wasn’t watching the game. I was trying my hardest to detox from technology after the long semester. 

I flipped to the score sometime afterwards, shocked by the result. An 88-72 win? Against Florida State? 

Then they won again. And again. And again. 

You get where I’m going with this. 

I had practically written this team off after the first 10 minutes or so against Memphis. I assumed it would be the blowout loss that absolutely everybody expected. I began prewriting after the Bulls were down 20 late in the first-half. 

Then the unbelievable ensued. Freshman guard Jayden Reid had hit a bucket to tie the game with 37 seconds on the clock. 

I vacated my habitual writing spot and found myself planted just inches away from my apartment television. I was supposed to be a neutral member of the media, but in moments like this, how can you not be a fan? 

A couple of weeks later was a home game against Charlotte – something that was being advertised as one of the biggest regular-season matchups in USF history. 

I was dealing with a heinous cold that entire day, and the thought of covering a basketball game that night sounded brutal. 

It didn’t matter. 

The Bulls were a must-see basketball team. I popped some Advil and dragged myself to the Yuengling Center. 

Although we hadn’t yet reached sold-out status, the energy in the arena was something unlike I’d ever seen for this team. 

It was 9 p.m. on a Tuesday night. The fans were electric – boisterously cheering at every possession. The student section nearly stretched to the top row. 

This is what college sports is supposed to feel like. This is why I decided to be a sports writer. 

The morning after beating FAU I was feverishly refreshing my browser to check the updated AP rankings. I could’ve sworn USF would be included. After all, we led the conference and had two top-25 victories. 

It took another week for that prophecy to be fulfilled. Man, that was a special moment. 

I thought back to my correspondent self in 2022. I never thought I’d get the chance to cover a postseason basketball game. I’d never thought I’d be in the position to become an editor. 

Maybe sports can be a direct reflection of life. It reminds me of one of my favorite quotes from writer Leo Tolstoy: “The two most powerful warriors are patience and time.” 

Patience and time were all I needed to become the writer I am now. I’m pushing myself way outside of the comfort zone I have always imposed on myself. 

It’s all this program needed, too. 

I had a feeling Amir Abdur-Rahim would be the answer at head coach. Maybe it’s his charisma, his subtle swagger or his metaphor-induced responses to my questions during press conferences. 

I remember one time when I asked him about how the waning minutes of a close game felt, he responded with an anecdote about his family struggles growing up with 12 siblings in northern Georgia. 

“It’s just a game,” he told me. An unorthodox answer – but it keeps things in perspective. That’s just the type of guy he is. 

Putting wins and losses aside, I think the most incredible thing is to see the life breathed back into this program. It makes this job that much more rewarding. 

People are excited about USF men’s basketball. Sometimes I will be walking to my class with my friends and we’ll pass by an athlete. 

“Oh my god, that was Kasean Pryor!” they would exclaim. 

Soon, I will transition to sports editor for the next year or so – being privileged with the opportunity to cover another season of USF men’s basketball as a student here. 

Maybe there’s some uncertainty of the sustainability of success. In this day-and-age of college athletics, I completely understand that. 

But there’s one more thing that this team taught me this season: 

Don’t count the Bulls out.