Ever since I could remember, I wanted to attend the University of Pittsburgh. It’s been ingrained in my brain for my entire life — thanks, Dad, Mom and Zach. It’s the only college I toured, researched and applied to.
In middle school and high school, no one ever asked me where I wanted to go to college, because they all knew where I wanted to go. I wanted to go where Tony Dorsett, Dan Marino, Aaron Donald, James Connor, DeJuan Blair, LeVance Fields and James Robinson went to college.
Maybe it was stupid to apply to only one college, but hey, I knew what I wanted back when I was 17. I knew more about myself when I was 17 than I know now as a 21 year old who has to figure out this entire life thing pretty soon.
But that’s besides the point — all I got to say is 17-year-old Matthew Scabilloni was on to something. He might not have known that he should check what his hair looked like before going to class in high school, but he knew what college would bring all of these cool people into his life.
Pitt, however, wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows for me during my time here. During my first semester in the spring of 2023, I went home every weekend because, honestly, I had no friends here. My friends were back home.
Then, when it was time for my dad to drive me back to campus on Monday morning each week, I got back to my dorm room in Lothrop Hall, sat there, looked at the ceiling for a second and cried.
Everything I dreamt of since I could remember absolutely sucked. It really did. Nothing at Pitt made me happy, even the basketball team, which was having its best season in the Jeff Capel era — I just waited for my Friday afternoon class to end and went straight home.
But my first semester here was not a total waste. I learned I could live on my own, and more importantly, I joined the student newspaper and asked to take the volleyball beat for the upcoming season.
Of every decision I made in my time at the University of Pittsburgh, that was the best one I made because that volleyball beat shaped my time here at Pitt.
Because of that beat, I got to work side-by-side with Jermaine Sykes — the best assistant sports editor in the world, and I stand by that — Brian Sherry — who mentored me all of last school year — Aidan Kasner and Conor Hutchison — the best two sports editors one could work alongside — and so many others.
The Pitt News and the people in it showed me why there was only one school I applied to. Sure, maybe I could find that somewhere else, but I doubt it. I doubt there was another school where I could write a 1,429-word story about how a volleyball band helps a volleyball team earn four consecutive No. 1 seeds or a 1,235-word story about a serving specialist who dons two-toned hair.
I’m not finding those stories anywhere else, and I sure as heck ain’t finding these people anywhere else. Surely, there’s no sports desk across all college campuses having a 10-minute debate on how important St. John’s free-throw percentage is for them to make a run in March Madness — and if there is, I hope The Pitt News collaborates with them one day.
This student newspaper really changed my life, and I hope it can do the same for the people who come after me.
I know that this paper is in great hands, and I can’t wait to see what the sports desk does next. Conor Hutchison is going to keep on killing it as the sports editor, and Alex Kiger handled the football beat with ease, so I know working as the assistant sports editor will be simple for him. And don’t you, The Pitt News readers, worry about volleyball whatsoever — Ava Nicholas has you covered, and she might just be a better writer than me already.
But before I go and ride off into the sunset with my 187 pieces of content I have posted for this publication, I want to give one last message to the readers and The Pitt News writers who might be reading this.
Be yourself all the damn time. Be someone that your younger self would look up to, and be vulnerable.
Because at the end of the day, nothing is embarrassing.
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