Howe | My time at the Butler Eagle, next career move wouldn’t have been possible without you. Yes, you
I always wanted to have my name in the Butler Eagle.
Living across the street as a 10-year-old, I’d open it — admittedly — solely to glance at the sports photos and comic strips. Sometimes, I’d take a look at a column written by a guy who had brown hair and glasses in the accompanying headshot. (More on him later.)
Then, as a 5-foot-7, 140-pound receiver in a run-heavy Butler offense, I never gave any standout high school football performance to warrant athletic attention. Still, I’d make my parents go to the Sunoco across from the Monroe Hotel every Saturday morning to get the weekend edition to see what the sports section had to say about the previous night’s game.
Now that “By Brendan Howe” has been printed in ink in this newspaper time after time, I think it’s fitting to make sure many other names are, as well, as I put away the keyboard for this publication on a full-time basis after covering Friday night’s Golden Tornado game against Taylor Allderdice.
To my high school journalism teachers, Tracy Travaglio and Erik Robbins — it feels odd to refer to you by your first names — this all started with you. The confidence you guys gave me to track down a dream of mine pushed me to even try.
To my parents, Paul and Justine: you giving me the runway to pursue a career writing about sports — rather than pushing me to be an English teacher — will always mean the world to me. To my younger brother, Tyler: it was always cool having you follow in my footsteps. I wouldn’t have wanted to grow in my career alongside anyone else, and you’re doing great where you are now. I never had any doubt you’d succeed.
To my little sisters, Cheyenne and Lyssie: I hope I’ve inspired you to go after what you want in life, no matter how hard you have to work for it.
To Karl Ludwig: if it weren’t for you, I’d still be writing game stories in stale, chronological order, and feature stories without color. Pick that pen back up. Please.
To Donna Sybert and Tammy Schuey: thank you for giving me a chance right out of college at Slippery Rock University and letting me see firsthand, every day for over five years, what true journalism is.
To Jake Merda Adams: you pushed me to see writing and reporting in different ways, though I might not have always been — OK, definitely wasn’t — the easiest to teach. Your organizational skills are second to none.
To Derek Pyda: I’ve half-joked I’ve spent more time with you than I have anyone else since I was hired. I’ve never met someone more dedicated to dotting i’s and crossing t’s, or with so strong a love for trivia. I’ll leave you with one more question, knowing how much you love those. (How long is Tom Brady’s index fingernail?)
To others in the newsroom — Zach Zimmerman, Steve Cukovich, Joe Giampietro, Tracy Leturgey, Laura Crago and Eddie Trizzino, to name a few — this place is in good hands.
To coaches, athletes and anyone else I interviewed — Eric Christy, Eric Kasperowicz, Matt Clement, John Gaillot, Mike Seybert, Mark Maier, Gabe Hein, Ben Lane and hundreds of others — telling your stories has been so fun. I hope you enjoyed reading them as much as I did writing them.
To readers: thank you for tagging along and allowing me to be a voice on sports in this community. High school athletics will always be special to me, even as I embark on continuing to cover the professional and college scenes.
To my girlfriend, Bailey Lawson: you don’t know how much I appreciate you and all you do. From taking care of our needy-but-adorable golden retriever, Rambo, to putting up with me working every weeknight only to come home and type on my laptop even more. I also can’t thank your family enough for its support, but you can bet I’m going to include their names, too — Tiffany Monz, Emma Delaney, Addie Monz and Nate Delaney.
To Alan Saunders: I have a blast working beside you. I’ve had to pinch myself plenty leaving the UPMC Rooney Sports Complex and Acrisure Stadium, and even writing these words, this change still hasn’t fully set in. Maybe it will this weekend. I’m forever grateful for every opportunity you’ve given me since we first met in 2022. (Also a big thanks to Mike Vukovcan.)
Last, and certainly not least, to John Enrietto: without you, I wouldn’t be the writer, reporter or person I am as I walk out the door. By the time I met you, your hair was just a little grayer than it was in that headshot. I’ve never seen you have a bad day, and your enthusiasm for covering sports and optimistic outlook showed me how to do things the right way. The late nights in the office sitting and talking with you about anything and everything were some of the best I’ve ever had. It was an honor to sit to your left for three years.
(Finally, for the big star of the show, John’s wife, Darlene: thank you for your endless supply of brownies — and for keeping John in line. We know he needs it.)
This certainly won’t be the last time you all read something I write for the Butler Eagle. To keep up with my other work, follow me @bybrendanhowe on X/Twitter. Check out my other coverage by, well, it might be easier to Google my name, honestly.
I’d hope by now you all know me well enough to know how to spell it.
