"The Big Dog" Mitch Vosburg

It’s a cool, sunny Wednesday night in the alley behind my apartment.

There’s a hot game of Yahtzee being played, and the winner was Mike. You may know him as the man who rides his bike all around Escanaba.

I’m sitting on the back tailgate of my neighbor’s truck. It’s a conversation about life with Wiz, some of my favorite conversations in our “tailgates” that force me to take mental notes. At 30 years old I’m the group’s young buck, and I’ll listen to any wisdom I can take.

On this night, topics ranged from music to Wiz’s love for Clint Eastwood movies and even the passing of one of Wiz’s relatives and how short life could be.

I left back for my apartment that evening wondering how I lucked out with the life I have now. More importantly, I couldn’t believe the drastic, positive change my life took within the last year.

On July 10, 2023, I walked into the office of The Daily Press for my first day as sports editor. I moved to Escanaba three days earlier with half of my possessions in the back of my Dad’s Silverado held together like something you’d see out of “The Beverly Hillbillies.”

I didn’t know a soul in Escanaba when I moved here. I went in totally blind.

I traded the beaches and beautiful sunsets of Manistee for pasties and the wilderness of Escanaba. For me, it was a no-brainer trade.

Similar to Anakin Skywalker, I hate sand, but I wanted to make the U.P. my yard. And there’s no better way to do that than to put a spotlight on area athletes.

As fate would have it, I found a way to do that.

Escanaba’s Keira Maki was my first 1,000 point scorer, and her 47 point performance against Sault Ste. Marie was one of the best individual performances I’ve witnessed covering basketball. Lillie Johnson went from a pretty good basketball player to a monster, all while her mom battled breast cancer. Ella Schuetter’s right arm needed a permit on the volleyball court, especially if Manistique wanted to play a match in Wisconsin.

But there was a bigger reason why I uprooted my life and moved to Escanaba. I came here to heal.

I’ve been really honest about my past on how I wanted to take my own life four years ago. I spilled my guts, and fortunately my story is a powerful one.

But there’s something people don’t realize when they spill their guts out like I did. There’s the process of putting the guts back in the right place, sew things up and let the wounds turn into scars.

While examining my guts on the ground I noticed some cuts.

Some I knew were there, some I wish weren’t there, and some that were a surprise and made me lose my mind a bit.

This process also came with a severe anxiety diagnosis, as well as an acute case of ADHD toward the end of basketball season.

It was, to put it lightly, a tough time. I understood where all the cuts came from, and I also realized that with the cuts came bleeding, and I bled on people who never had any intention of cutting me.

There was a two-month stretch where I was not myself. A stretch where I felt lost while trying to make peace with my past.

Yet, I can pinpoint three instances where my cuts healed and I finally stopped bleeding on people.

First was on May 3, 2024. I was invited back to speak at Climax-Scotts High School, where I graduated back in 2013. I spoke about my past: the good, bad and ugly.

Although I was jealous that the school replaced the lockers, I was left happy that my high school English teacher Josh Vick, the man who pushed me toward journalism in the first place, still has a terrible taste in shirts.

I left the school that day feeling at peace with my high school past. I also left feeling like I was one of the kids that once roamed the halls of Climax-Scotts and became one of the kids that made it.

Then there’s May 4, 2024. I had a wedding ceremony to perform, but this wedding was a special one to me.

During the pandemic I worked as a delivery driver for a pizza place in Mount Pleasant. That’s where I met a young lady named Alex. We immediately bonded over baseball, and her heart is as large as the Pacific Ocean. She was also one of the few people I saw on a near daily basis when I was at my lowest.

Eventually a new driver was hired in. His name was Gage, a dude who, at the time, consumed more Brisk Iced Tea products than any human being I’ve ever met. But Gage and Alex hit it off almost immediately, and eventually I quit that pizza place to jump back into journalism.

One of the first articles I did after retiring as a pizza delivery driver was how Central Michigan University’s marching band was still performing live during the Pandemic. It was an article that revived my journalistic confidence. It also forced me to chat with CMU’s drum major, a young lady named Gabby, who just so happens to be one of Gage’s younger sisters.

So, on May 4, 2024, I performed the wedding ceremony for Alex and Gage. Two families that played a crucial role in my rise back from rock bottom were one. And in that moment, I felt part of my past at CMU was healed.

The third instance came during the spring sports season.

My late grandmother Partrica Thompson, my emotional rock, taught me to always do what makes me happy. At the start of the spring sports season I felt like there wasn’t much to be happy about. Until there was.

It was the thousands of photos taken, the thousands of miles traveled and countless memories that will be its own chapter in a future book. Because of all of this I healed as a journalist.

So, what have I learned during my first year in the U.P.?

I learned that in some way we are all flawed. I learned that we will never truly know what battle the person next to us is currently fighting. I learned that U.P. athletes are just as talented as those on the other side of the bridge. I learned that I will never be able to fully comprehend how much I’m loved.

Most of all, I learned that I’ve spent the last year in a place where I can be myself, a place where I’m judged by my work ethic and attitude instead of my flaws while possessing a career I truly love.

And for that, I am grateful.

“The Big Dog” Mitch Vosburg is a multi-time award-winning sports writer and photographer who currently serves as sports editor for The Daily Press in Escanaba. He can be reached at mvosburg@dailypress.net or at 906-786-2021 (ext. 143).