Bring your son to work day

Jeff had asked Biscuit if he'd ever like to go to one of the college basketball games he had to cover. Biscuit said he'd like to go sometime, but he never would give Jeff a definite yes.

I think Biscuit just didn't know what to expect. He's been to baseball games and football games, but he's never been to basketball, except for my 13-year-old nephew's middle school team. And college games are a bit different, as you know.

Biscuit finally said he'd like to go with Jeff to a game, so Jeff looked at the schedule and picked a Saturday night.

Everyone makes comments about how they'd like to attend games for a living. But they don't know what all is involved. Jeff has to arrive at least an hour before the game to get all the info he'll need — game notes, programs, roster and other stuff.

During the game, he has to write constant updates on social media. Then after the game, he has to write a story about the game — sometimes two different versions of the story: one to post on the website and on for print.

By the time he does the pre-game and post-game work, he's pretty much worked an entire shift.

So Jeff told Biscuit that they would be sitting on press row, which is right beside the court. And because they were there representing the newspaper, they had to be completely objective. So Jeff explained to Biscuit that no matter how he felt about what was happening on the court, he couldn't cheer for either team.

Luckily, Biscuit understood and although Jeff said Biscuit's head was on a swivel throughout the whole game, he didn't cheer. He just soaked in everything that was happening in the gym.

After the game, the coach walked over to Jeff to do a post-game interview. After he got what he needed from the coach, he introduced Biscuit to him.

Biscuit shook his hand, and the coach asked how he liked the game.

"It was good," Biscuit said, "but Dad told me that I couldn't cheer when I was sitting on press row. But don't worry, I was cheering for your team in my head."

I'm pretty sure the coach liked our boy.