Damn, This Happens Fast

I've been at this journalism gig, either at internships or The Vista or in other mediums, for give or take three years now. That being the case, it's not every day that I experience something new.

Last week, that changed. 

Thursday, February 24 was a big day for the fan of the National Basketball Association. It was the trade deadline. At two o'clock sharp, the paperwork for any and all trades that are to be made in the NBA's 2010-2011 season had to be on the commissioner's desk. Otherwise, no deal. This tends to spur a flurry of activity in a tiny time frame, with team brass swapping players like the very same glossed cards that grace their likeness in the hope of adding the final pieces needed to take their club to the promised land. 

The Oklahoma City Thunder, the hometown team that I cover for a Toronto-based website called Hoops Addict (I seldom mention it for fear of being accused of making a fuss), wasn't expected to be a big player in the trade market. Thunder General Manager Sam Presti is a thinking man, a strategist whose favorite virtue would seem to be patience. 

Still, for the sake of knowing, I was sitting at my desk in The Vista, sifting through news just to see if the Thunder would surprise anyone. 

Guess what. 

At approximately 1:59:30 p.m., the news came across the wire: the Thunder had acquired defensive specialist and rebound-hawking Kendrick Perkins, the six-foot-ten, 280-pound behemoth that had for the last eight seasons patrolled the frontcourt as the Boston Celtics' starting center. 

The Thunder also acquired Celtics scoring spark plug Nate Robinson, and Bobcats big man Nazr Mohammed, but for the purpose of this particular post, that's neither here nor there. Suffice it to say that the move was a big one. 

Digressing to the original point, I experienced something for the first time that day. Within two minutes, I saw the trade go over the wire, received an e-mail from my Toronto editor asking me to "hammer something out about the deal", and started doing exactly that. 

Twenty-five or so minutes later, I had written almost 600 words about the trades and almost immediately afterward, it was published to the masses. I love calling myself a newspaperman, but wow. Print doesn't move that fast. Especially when I write for a twice-a-week collegiate publication. 

It was easily the most thrilling experience from a deadline standpoint that I have ever had, and damn, it was fun.