My Next Dream Job
How chasing a career in sports journalism led me to UX
When I was younger, I thought I had my dream career picked out.
In 2003, at age 16, I read a remarkable collection of articles from journalists at The Kansas City Star about Latin America’s influence on Major League Baseball. To me, those thousands of words represented more than stories contained in ink and paper. That special section brought to life themes of survival and resilience from a region that seemed exotic to a boy who came of age on the barren plains of southwest Kansas.
Those stories represented a calling: I wanted to become those writers. I wanted to live a similar life, one that brought me to places I couldn’t imagine from my wind-swept home. I had loved sports since a young age, but this moment meant something different. I wanted to dissect the human condition through the prism of sports and provide a canvas for everything that came with it: hope, trial, and triumph.
I began following that dream. I assumed the chase would last for decades.
Some people fall into dream careers and positions without drama. But for most of us, life doesn’t follow a straight line. Instead, it’s a collection of twists, detours, and adaptations delivered by forces larger than our personal talents and will. I learned this the hard way.
I tried to do everything right to succeed in the only career I wanted. I graduated from the University of Missouri, home to one of the country’s top journalism schools. I earned internships at The Washington Post, Orlando Sentinel, and The Indianapolis Star. I won writing awards. I filed stories from national events such as the World Series and NCAA Tournament, the Stanley Cup Final and MLB All-Star Game. I was committed to the grind throughout my 20s, sacrificing personal balance and happiness for demanding jobs in the industry I loved.
But I had terrible timing. I exited college during the Great Recession. I entered the workforce when magazines floundered, newspapers folded, and everyone in publishing grappled with how to evolve after the Internet wrecked trusted business models. I worked for digital outlets that strained to satisfy their corporate parents and survive.
Watching the industry I love crumble was confusing and heartbreaking. Some talented people were lucky enough to be given a life raft, like when Jeff Bezos bought The Washington Post in 2013. But I wasn’t as fortunate. The turmoil of it all led to doubts about my self-worth.
I was laid off for the first time in 2015 when I was living in Florida. My employer at the time, Fox Sports, shed all of its regional writers in a shift of how the company approached original content. I wasn’t ready for my dream to end, so I adjusted.
Throughout the next year, I sent unsolicited pitches to editors and fired off applications for the limited full-time sports journalism jobs that were available throughout the country. At the same time, I scratched for freelance work in the Tampa Bay area and completed jobs for people in other states who were little more than names on emails to limit the damage to my bank account. I wrote blog posts, newspaper articles, and appeared on television to provide sports opinions.
Through it all, I thought I would survive with the right eyes on my byline. I thought my dream would continue with a little more hustle.
Then in 2016, I thought my break arrived. I moved to Atlanta to work on the breaking news desk of a Cox Media Group college football website. I wrote short articles about buzzy topics, produced commentary, and reported longer pieces. For a while, it seemed like our venture was thriving, and we even planned to expand our coverage.
But less than two years after I arrived, the company announced our entire staff would lose our jobs, despite our strong results. New corporate leadership wanted to save money and had no interest in supporting our project beyond the following month.
Those experiences taught me something harsh but important: individual performance in my industry ultimately didn’t matter. My dream career — and all of the work I had placed into it — was just another line item for someone high on the corporate ladder to cut.
That was a hard lesson to stomach.
After two layoffs in three years, I wanted to regain personal freedom. So to build something new, I looked elsewhere. I turned in a direction opposite of everything I had chased since those stories from The Kansas City Star filled me with wonder.
I walked away from sports journalism.
It’s good to form dreams about your career, but sometimes they’re not compatible with the existence you grow to want. With time, I learned to explore a new lifestyle and take lessons from the one I left behind.
These days, I’m a UX Content Strategist at a tech company in Atlanta. That’s a sentence I never thought I would have typed two years ago, but I’m glad I can. I still make a living with words, and I value the creative freedom I enjoy in this new chapter of my career.
I love taking pride in my creations, and that drive to impact audiences has carried over from my time in journalism. As a journalist, I developed an eye for detail and an appreciation for how words affect people, and these skills remain critical as we enhance our software daily.
Throughout the past year, I’ve also received support to shape and lead a video initiative for my company. I write scripts and build customer-facing videos that aid with product education, all after telling my boss I had similar experiences in my former career. In my own way, I want to impact audiences the way those stories from The Kansas City Star impacted me — even if that just means opening their eyes to new possibilities.
Overall, my life has improved. I no longer interrupt time with my wife to whip out my phone or laptop to write a short article about an arrested player or a suspended coach. I no longer work baseball and football games on weekends and return home past midnight. These are things I used to do without hesitation, but now I have mixed feelings about how hard I worked in my former career and what it all meant.
The verdict is complicated. Sometimes, I wonder why I didn’t change directions sooner. On other occasions, I’m proud of what I accomplished, and I’m curious how far I could have taken my journey if circumstances had been different along the way.
But, as I’ve aged, I’ve learned to value different things. Personal balance, uninterrupted time with friends and family, and enjoying a job with more security and upward mobility are larger priorities. I’m not on the same path I dreamed about as a starry-eyed teenager, but that doesn’t mean it’s not exciting to try to excel in something else.
I’ve changed, but parts of my former life flicker. I keep in touch with old coworkers. I tweet about sports, and I attend games as a fan. I read and appreciate good journalism. I hope young writers who are chasing their dreams can continue for as long as they desire.
However, I learned you can’t plan your entire professional life. As working adults, we’re at the mercy of timing, financial circumstances, and our employer’s vision from 40,000 feet away. We can take pride in our work and become excellent at what we do, but sometimes, that’s not enough.
I’d tell my younger self to be more flexible when following a dream career and not to take the obstacles and dead ends personally. After all, even with ambition and quality work, the dream doesn’t always unfold the way you envisioned. And none of it is your fault. It’s OK to pivot and become something different.
Most of all, I’ve learned embracing a new career didn’t mean I failed. Instead, I adapted and thrived.
Even though I thought my former dream would last for so much longer, I’m at peace with my decision to step away. As I mature in my new career, I want to continue creating and communicating with words and visuals, and I’m intrigued by the thought of growing into a management role and helping colleagues build their careers. There are so many possibilities for the future.
In my case, life was too short for one path. I’m better for the adaptations that have made my journey real, and I’m excited to explore all the dream jobs to come.
Andrew Astleford is an Atlanta-based UX Content Strategist at CallRail. When he’s not at work, he enjoys hiking, following sports, and spending time with his wife and dog.
