Where It All Started
When people ask me how I got into broadcast journalism, I always trace it back to where I grew up—Long Island, New York. It’s more than just the place I was raised. It’s the place that gave me my voice, my grit, and my unshakable love for sports. Long Island has this distinct energy. It’s fast, direct, and unapologetically real. And when you grow up surrounded by that kind of intensity, you learn how to hustle early.
I remember watching Yankees games on a grainy TV in our family room, listening to broadcasters like Michael Kay and John Sterling make every pitch feel like a moment in history. It wasn’t just the game that kept me glued to the screen—it was the storytelling. I was hooked not only on the action but on how the stories were told. There was something about the rhythm of it all, the way a game’s drama could unfold through just a voice and a well-placed pause. That stuck with me.
The Neighborhood Influence
Growing up on Long Island wasn’t always glamorous, but it was real. The people I grew up with were tough, honest, and deeply loyal—to their families, to their friends, and especially to their teams. There’s a special kind of pride that comes with being from Long Island, and that pride shows up in everything—from the way we talk to the way we argue sports in a pizza shop.
Those early debates about whether the Yankees should’ve pulled their starter in the 6th, or if the Giants could bounce back from a tough loss, taught me how to defend a position. More importantly, they taught me how to listen. That’s something I’ve carried into every newsroom I’ve worked in. Listening is a skill that’s underrated in journalism, but it’s everything when you’re telling someone’s story. You’ve got to listen between the lines, understand where someone’s coming from, and recognize what matters most to them.
Finding My Voice
When I first walked into a college newsroom at St. John’s University, I didn’t sound like anyone else. And I mean that in the best way. I had a Long Island edge, a working-class mentality, and a stubborn commitment to making sure every story had a pulse. I wasn’t trying to be overly polished or robotic. I wanted to sound like someone people could trust—like the guy they grew up watching games with.
Over the years, I realized that staying true to that voice was one of the best decisions I ever made. Broadcast journalism isn’t about sounding like everyone else. It’s about being authentic. And being from Long Island, I learned early that people can sniff out a phony a mile away. That ability to keep it real—to cut through the noise and just tell the truth—is one of the biggest lessons my hometown ever gave me.
Grit in the Grind
Broadcast journalism is not an easy path. The hours are long. The deadlines are tight. And the pressure to get it right—especially in sports—is constant. But the grind never scared me. If anything, I welcomed it. Long Island taught me how to show up, even when it’s not easy. Whether it was hauling gear through a snowstorm to shoot a Friday night football game or staying up late to re-edit a segment that didn’t quite land, I never shied away from the tough stuff.
I think back to people in my neighborhood—construction workers, nurses, teachers—people who worked hard because they had to. That kind of work ethic is embedded in me. It shows up every time I chase down a lead, write a new segment, or coach a younger producer through a difficult edit. You don’t coast in this business. You push. You care. You grind.
Full Circle Moments
Now, years into my career, I look back and realize how much of what makes me good at my job comes directly from where I started. From the way I frame a question to the tone I use in a voiceover, Long Island is there. It’s in the straightforward way I tell stories. It’s in my obsession with detail. It’s in the passion I still have every time I sit down to write a script or walk into an edit room.
There’s a certain pride I carry with me. Not just in my work, but in where I came from. The road from Long Island to the newsroom wasn’t always smooth, but it was mine. And every step taught me something that still matters today.
Never Forget Where You Came From
One of the best pieces of advice I ever got was this: “Don’t forget where you came from.” And I haven’t. I’ve worked in big cities and high-pressure newsrooms, but my foundation has never changed. I still believe in hard work, honest storytelling, and connecting with people in a real way. That’s not just good journalism—that’s Long Island journalism.
So yeah, I’m proud of the Emmys and the Murrow award. I’m proud of the stories I’ve told and the athletes I’ve interviewed. But more than anything, I’m proud of staying true to the roots that shaped me. Every time I sit in the control room or behind the mic, I carry Long Island with me. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.