Today is the end of an era. The end of the golden age. The end of the innocence.

Whatever.

Today is, barring a complete brain-breakdown in finals week (I hope all my teachers are reading), my last day as a Penn State student. Up next, the real world, in a foreign land known to me only as New Jersey.

But here I am, doing what I love most, writing about sports.

It's always been a passion of mine since I grew out of the He-Man phase and into rooting for the Von Hayes-led Phillies. Ah, the irony.

That being said, it's time I give thanks where thanks is due. For all the people who've allowed me to turn sports fanaticism into sports journalism, here's what it's all about.

It's about getting into those always-candid dinnertime arguments over whether or not sports were fixed. Thanks Mom.

It's about taking your grandmother to her first Phillies game, then watching Curt Schilling mow down Dodgers batters and the Fightin's posting an eight-run inning in a blowout win. Thanks Nana.

It's about taking your father and uncle to the routine Father's Day baseball game at Veterans Stadium, where the Phillies were more likely to lose but each one always held a special place. Thanks Dad and Uncle Freddie.

It's about sitting next to your best friend from birth, your older brother, at your first game ever seen at Yankee Stadium, and watching Armando Benitez and Darryl Strawberry duke it out in a bench-clearing brawl. I think the Yankees won — the game and the fight. Thanks Steve.

It's about sitting next to your best friend from high school this past Christmas Eve, watching the (gulp) playoff-bound Eagles defeat the Cincinnati Bengals in weather more common in Antarctica than Philadelphia. Thanks Rob.

It's about playing 14,568 games of NHL 98 with your best friend from day one of orientation. Last time I checked the score Bob and I were tied 7284 games apiece. Bring it on Bobby. And I'm not thanking you until we've played God Bless America.

It's about playing one last game of NHL 98 before your roommate and one of your best friends takes the road less traveled and leaves his college life behind and moves away. I'll always be behind you John.

It's about the other roommate who would usually be awake when you got home from the night shift, ready to drink a few and talk about the day that was — SportsCenter. Thanks Curt.

It's about the only two friends who stayed with you the entire five-overtime playoff game between the Flyers and the Penguins, which ended 14 hours, $73 dollars and countless beers after I first arrived at Sports Café. Thanks Bob and Curt.

It's about Remember the Titans and Moonlight Graham.

Thanks Anthony. People will come, Train, people will come.

It's about covering the team you'd always dreamed of covering — the 76ers — for a whole week, pay included. Thanks Ron.

It's about getting the chance. Thanks to everyone at The Daily Collegian, the News Journal, The Associated Press. Mainly for putting up with me, mostly for letting me show my talents.

And of course, thanks to all the athletes that makes sports what they are.

The quarterback who lost three Super Bowls before winning back-to-back titles, then riding off into the sunset.

Sosa-McGwire. Enough said.

The quarterback who went from grocery store clerk to NFL and Super Bowl MVP, proving that dreams do come true.

And the hockey player, who has not only defeated the games' best, but defeated cancer as well, coming back from a three-year retirement to prove he can't beat the best anymore — because he is the best. In no way am I a Penguins fan, but it isn't because of him.

Maybe I haven't met the last few people who I gave thanks to, but it's OK. I am still, after all, a sports fanatic.

And that's what it's all about.