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Articles by Cory Hahn
We All Got Angels, We All Got Demons | By Mikey Nichols and Eric LeGrand
For every second of those two minutes, the odds are stacked against you. The other team is supposed to score. You’ve got to have complete belief in the three teammates working with you out there. You need to know when the other forward follows the guy with the puck, because you have to rotate to the open space. You need to know whether to go down to block a shot, or let your goalie see it all the way. And, when it comes down to it, you’ve also gotta have a little faith.
One-Pointer | By Jeremiah Bonsu
In 2013, my freshman year at Dayton, I went to our gym, the RecPlex, every day. I’m talking every single day. Classes were done? Off to the Rec. I probably spent more time hooping than I spent in my dorm room. And pretty early on, I think other kids noticed. But not like, Oh, that kid’s really good at basketball. Nah, it was more like, Oh, that Jeremiah kid down the hall? He’s a weirdo. He never goes out. He doesn’t like to drink. I guess they were right. I didn’t want to drink. I wanted to ball.
It’s My Turn Now
As our kids lay in their beds, my wife, Catie, and I sat at our kitchen table one evening across from my parents under a pale light. It was May 2014. They had made the trip to our home in Kalamazoo, Mich., to see their grandchildren, but their visit was about to take a turn. They looked like they knew something was up: Their eyes darted back and forth between Catie and me. In a tiny crevice of my brain, hidden in a dark place, I was terrified that there was something very wrong with me.
A Boy From Cali
Pop. The ball smacked into my mitt. Finally. For the first time all season, a ball had been hit to centerfield. Which was my position. You see, this wasn’t a routine fly ball. This was my first putout in an Arizona State uniform. There hadn’t been a ball hit to centerfield in our opener. I had to wait until the first inning of our second game to cross that achievement off my list.
A Boy From Cali | By Cory Hahn
The ball smacked into my mitt. For the first time all season, a ball had been hit to centerfield. Which was my position. You see, this wasn’t a routine fly ball. This was my first putout in an Arizona State uniform. There hadn’t been a ball hit to centerfield in our opener. I had to wait until the first inning of our second game to cross that achievement off my list.
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