You never knew what’d happen when you walked into Room 205 of Mr. Cannamela’s fifth grade class. He’d built a loft — yes, a wooden platform with stairs and cushions that took up half the room — for his classes to use. He made us try sardines. He held an in-class competition where groups had to make buildings (or something like that) out of chocolate wafer cookies and Cool Whip. He taught us how to juggle. He helped us prepare for a declamation contest where we acted out poems in front of the St. Christopher’s School community.
This was fifth grade social studies and English. These were the three periods of the day we spent in the world of Mr. Cannamela, who’d been a teacher for decades and retired the year after I had him. We still learned and had tests, but he also insisted on teaching us life lessons. He called them the things we’d remember him for years in the future. I didn’t believe him then, but I do now. The one that’s stuck with me most: “Life is to be enjoyed, explored and discovered.”
Mr. Cannamela said this at least once a week, ingraining each of the phrase’s parts into our minds. It’s why sardines, juggling balls and a loft made it into our classroom. It’s why his class became the one that everyone looked forward to. And it’s why now, nearly 12 years later, his particular phrase of enjoying, exploring and discovering life still continues to shape me as a journalist as I’m about to graduate from The Daily Orange and Syracuse University.
That’s because I’ve grown to realize that sports journalism, and my time at The D.O., was the intersection of those three words. We’re taught to explore different beats and sports. We’re assigned stories that force us to discover more about the athletes and coaches we cover. And, along the way, we’re taught to enjoy it all, too.
I’ve tried to trace back the origin of my journalistic roots over the last few weeks, but I can’t pinpoint an exact location. Maybe it was when I won a writing contest in high school. Maybe it was the daily reading of the newspaper’s sports section, which led to my mother implementing a rule — one that I often broke — where I needed to read two articles from other sections before starting the sports page. Maybe it was the games I’d broadcast in my mind and the rosters and stats I’d create while playing basketball in either my driveway or my grandparents’ driveway. My grandparents’ neighbor who lived down the hill said he always knew when I was over because of the backboard’s clank that’d echo between the Lockport, New York, properties. That was enjoying.
But maybe it was before any of that even started. Ahead of Christmas in fifth grade, Mr. Cannamela assigned us a project where we needed to interview a family member about their life and write a short biography. After laminating the pages and spiraling them together, we’d have a book to give them. Tears were guaranteed when the family members opened the presents, he said.
So I interviewed my grandma. I came up with a list of questions — some recommended by Mr. Cannamela, others crafted by myself — and learned more about her life. I wrote the book, printed out the pages, spiraled them together, and sure enough, when my grandma ripped the wrapping paper on Christmas Eve that year, tears followed. That was exploring.
I hadn’t written much, at least journalistically, before arriving at Syracuse in 2018. The only experience came from a month-long internship at The Buffalo News as an 11th-grader and a “Marauder Highlights” website that I worked with the St. Joseph’s Collegiate Institute athletic department to make my senior year.
And after I arrived at SU, the first three sports I covered in college were volleyball, tennis and field hockey. I never played any of those, but I needed to learn enough about them to write reported stories and educate readers along the way. Those sports eventually became basketball, soccer and lacrosse, but the key to navigating any of those beats was to never stop asking questions. That was discovering.
So thank you — to my parents, to my friends, to everyone at The D.O. — for helping me enjoy, explore and discover life in more ways than I thought imaginable. Thank you for reading all of my stories and creating the memories in between, like driving 32 hours in one week to Boston College and Virginia Tech while hitting a snowstorm on I-81 during the final leg home.
And the best part of Mr. Cannamela’s line is that it never truly ends. There’s always more to come.
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Andrew Crane was a senior staff writer for The Daily Orange, where his column will no longer appear. He can be reached at craneandrewr@gmail.com and on Twitter @CraneAndrew.
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