By Todd Hardy
Arizona Daily Wildcat
December 10, 1997

Seven months in the hot seat

Arizona Daily Wildcat Todd Hardy

I spent a night in an Argentine jail after an overzealous police officer discovered me cozying up to a bottle of red wine in a park.

I ran from thieves in a Moroccan medina, and fled from an scandalous bar tab in the south of France.

I sold my blood for $15 in jai alai gambling money on the Mexican border.

And for the past seven months I have been editor in chief of the Arizona Daily Wildcat.

Sitting here trying to figure out how I ever got from point A to point B, that old saying, be careful what you wish for, rings through my head.

Three years ago as I rolled down some open road, drunk on life, I doubt I ever wished for this.

It's sleepless nights pacing around the newsroom while sweating out yesterday's coffee, dealing with angry readers, computer viruses, hirings, firings, agonizing over mistakes, headlines, cutlines. I am consumed by this newspaper.

I guess I thought I'd be different.

I had a pony tail when I became editor in chief. I was a longhair with big dreams.

I planned on stepping in and stirring things up as a free spirit in a position of authority. I'd draw upon my life experiences to give the Wildcat some teeth. I'd do it my way.

Hell, I was running down Fourth Avenue naked just a week before I interviewed for the job.

Me and my long hair.

I wasn't about to be gobbled up by the machine, I was gonna drive it.

With 40,000 daily readers and the First Amendment, the editor of the Wildcat has some real power.

The job description said it all:

"The editor in chief is responsible for the production and content of any publication bearing the name Arizona Daily Wildcat or Arizona Summer Wildcat. The editor-in-chief has ultimate authority as to what will be published under the Wildcat name and in what form it will be published. The editor's decisions in matters of content are final and he/she may not be overruled or restrained by any agent of the University of Arizona or the State of Arizona."

But putting all that responsibility in the hands of a capricious 23-year-old is like a cruel science experiment. And as much as I'd like to say I left my mark on the Wildcat, sadly, I think it's the other way around.

I shed the pony tail in the middle of July. I said it was too hot, but you know how it is. A month into the gig and I was feeling the heat.

That was just the beginning and the Wildcat has come a long way since then.

We've covered the selection of a new University president, approval of the Integrated Instructional Facility, campus crime, a battle with administrators over open records, the politics of the Student Union Referendum, the plight of the Arizona International Campus, Nike and McDonald's protests.

To keep up with the pace, I gave up on sleep, gained 20 pounds and developed some unhealthy dependencies - two pots of coffee in the morning, a 40 ounce beer at night. It got me through.

And through it all, the Wildcat reached the stands every day. That in itself is an accomplishment.

Somehow all the words, photos, opinions, cartoons and ads fit together in a cohesive package that reached readers every morning. Somehow. After seven months in charge of the whole process, I still think it's a damn miracle.

Some things will always be a mystery.

As these are my final words in the Wildcat, I'd like to say I came out on top. But the what-have-you-done-for-me-lately world of journalism doesn't work that way.

In the newspaper business you can't pause to reflect on a job well done, because there is always another one to put out. Above all, the newspaper must come out each day, and there are people who dedicate their lives to making sure that happens. For seven months, that was my life. It's not exactly Hemmingway, but I dug it.

But now I'm handing over the reins. I'll take my new love handles, my short hair and the permanent bags under my eyes and move aside.

I ran into the new editor the other night after putting out one of my final editions of the Wildcat. We passed each other in one of those long corridors leading out of the basement of the Student Union. It was 1 a.m. I was going home.

Armed with a 2-liter bottle of Dr. Pepper and a notebook, he was gearing up for an all-nighter in the newsroom.

We didn't really speak. He was all wrapped up in anxiety.

I think freedom is just around the bend.

This is Todd Hardy's final day as editor in chief of the Wildcat. He thinks there may be a correlation between McDonald's and weight gain.