Today, I'm in Austin, Texas, reporting a story for our second-annual Athletes' Issue. For what became the cover story of last year's issue, I accompanied Matt Leinart to the NFL owners' meetings in Phoenix and helped him ask nine NFL coaches, "Why did you pass on me in the draft?"

This year, I am shadowing San Francisco 49ers running back (and former Penn State RB/WR/QB/Big-10 offensive player of the year/supastar) Michael Robinson as he makes his network broadcast debut.

Robinson has a triple degree in marketing, advertising and broadcasting from PSU and is attempting to make use of all three while playing in San Fran. He wants a career in broadcast journalism after he's done playing, and has been practicing the craft any chance he gets. (Check out his Robinson Reports on sf49ers.com.) So ESPN-U hooked him up with a chance to play sideline reporter at the Baylor-Texas softball game this Wednesday. Obviously, he's never played softball. But he's been doing his homework.

Today, we took a dry run at the Rice-Texas baseball game. We walked the field, learned what each camera/operator is responsible for catching, and took a tour of "the truck"—ground zero for an ESPN broadcast.

It was neat learning how the bells and whistles of a broadcast—stuff you take for granted as a viewer—all happens. What? Those graphics don't just magically appear on my screen? But after about a half hour of being cramped into an area even smaller than my NYC living room, with 10 folks barking commands over and at one another, I was getting claustrophobic. I have a hard time being locked in an office building for extended periods of time, so I don't know how they do that for hours on end, game after game, week after week.

But, in the end, what they produce is something pretty seamless (baseball pun intended) and very cool.

Tomorrow is the big show.

I heart college towns. They just put me in a good mood. Another thing that puts me in a good mood: running stadiums in college towns. Love them! So that was my post-pre-production meeting outing this morning. UT's stadium was smaller in person than I anticipated, but they have the largest jumbotron in the world. It's incredible. And the entire north endzone is under construction. They're adding "about 10,000 new seats", according to Seth, the softball SID. That will put the stadium close to the 100,000-seat mark.

Today was the UT-Baylor softball game. (Our reason for being in Austin.) US Olympic softball team member Jessica Mendoza also called the game and acted as Michael's coach. They did a super job, and I'm sure both will be asked back many times. It was neat to see two athletes from very differenet worlds interact. They both had interesting perspectives on the other. Mike said several times that he wished athletes like Jessica were more famous than they are. (Amen!) She does so much non-profit work and is a real role model for young girls. Then he proposed to her on the air.

Now I'm off to Aspen for the Snow Angels Invitational. Much like the contest Travis Rice staged in Jackson Hole, this is a contest organized by a pro snowboarder, Gretchen Bleiler, who saw something missing in her sport and, instead of complaining about it, set out to make a change. This weekend, some of the best female halfpipe riders in the world are here in Aspen for their final contest of the season. They will also get to work with top photographers and videographers as a way to get great shots of them out to the media. And, just like in Jackson Hole, the weather is perfect. Who do these athletes know?

Mike, workin' the mic ...

I don't know if there is a harder city to leave than Aspen. But today, I have to buck up and Just Do It (prelude to my next destination).

Yesterday, the Snow Angels Invitational halfpipe contest was held, and it was no surprise that event organizer Gretchen Bleiler won. Kelly Clark took second and Elena Hight took third. The format, a jam, resulted in about six runs per athlete and some decent progression. Unfortunately, it also resulted in a serious concussion (Clark), a less-serious concussion (Soko Yamaoka), a dislocated shoulder (Hannah Teter), a bruised hip and back (Claire Bidez) and a broken rib (Kaitlyn Farrington).

Check out the blog I wrote for espnthemag.com on the event. I dropped in on an environmental workshop where the women discussed how to help raise awareness on a little topic called global warming ...

The angels. A bright bunch ...

For the past two days, I've been holed up at the Nike HQ in Beaverton, Oregon, for their Beijing '08 Innovation Summit. I've seen shoes that weigh less than socks and are based on bridge design. I've seen swimsuits that claim to be faster than the Speedo LZR Racer suit currently making headlines for breaking too many world records. And I watched Alberto Salazar train American distance runners (and husband and wife) Adam and Kara Goucher on the lawn behind the Tiger Woods Center. That, I must admit, was very cool.

As I sit in these innovation presentations, I have also been pondering this question ... What is the difference between engineering Cheetah Legs so a double amputee sprinter can compete with the able-bodied (Oscar Pistorius), engineering a human body to break world records with HGH (Marion Jones), and engineering a space-aged swimsuit to break world records (LZR Racer, Nike Swift Suit)? In all three cases, certain athletes have access to an advantage over the other men or women standing at the start. So who decides what is legal and what is not?

Yesterday, Nike unveiled their newest basketball shoe, the Hyperdunk. A guy named Kobe Bryant stopped by to discuss its conception and design. Check out my espnthemag.com blog on his visit.

EPCOT? ... Vacation Resort? ... Nope. Nike HQ.

My story on the Bra Boys, the infamous surf tribe from Maroubra, Australia, is in this issue of the magazine (the NFL Draft Preview issue). Perfect timing, as their movie, also titled Bra Boys, premiered in Los Angeles on Monday and will debut in NYC this Saturday. Next week, it his U.S. theaters, and is worth checking out.

In the meantime, check out the story, and my fabulous broadcasting skills here.

I also had the chance to interview my favorite TV personality, Bear Grylls of The Discovery Channel's Man vs. Wild. Love him. Check it out here.

After leaving the NIke Innovation Summit, I flew to San Diego for a few days of moto madness: the inaugural ESPN Moto X World Championships held at Qualcomm Stadium (home of the SD Chargers). I love how self-important we are at ESPN. The "world championships". I think the Moto X Games would have been a smarter name for this event. It builds on a franchise people have heard of. And, let's be honest. This is an invite-only event. It might as well be called the Moto X SoCal Championships.

Of all the traveling I do for work and play, I had never been to Chicago. Strange, but true. Two of the cties most folks visit on their first domestic and international trips are Chicago and London—two cities I had never visited. London still tops my list of must-get-to spots, but this week was my chance to experience the Windy City. Friends sent me lists of restaurants I "must" eat at, art museums I "could not miss out on visiting" and bars and nightclubs "I would not regret staying out late for".

Instead, over the past three days, I've seen a whole lot of the inside of the historical Palmer House Hilton in downtown Chicago, and very little of downtown Chicago. I've met and interviewed dozens of Olympic athletes, dined with my colleague Luke Cyphers (who will be my Mag buddy in Beijing), Mia Farrow and her Dream for Darfur colleagues and sat through countless press conferences. Still, I had no idea what Chicago looked like outside of this hotel and a Corner Bakery on the corner of Monroe.

So today, after shadowing the newest members of the Olympic world (the BMX racing team) as they were inaugurated into the madness, I went for a walk. Just me, my camera and my backpack. I wandered the streets of downtown Chicago for two hours, trying to absorb as much of the city as time allowed. I walked throught Millennium Park, found the Chicago Tribune offices, strolled around the river and soaked up the first warm day since I arrived Monday morning. My first thought as I walked down Michigan Avenue: What the heck have I been doing inside all this time?

First, a stroll through Millennium Park ...

... No thanks, I'm walking ...

... but a ride on the water taxi sure looks fun.

When IRL driver Danica Patrick (who became the first woman to win an Indy race last weekend), steps out of her car after a race, she usually does so wearing lipstick. She also poses in leather undies (see April FHM), bats her eyelashes at interviewers and talks about her hair on Letterman (see Wednesday's show). Usually, this wouldn't bug me. Except for the fact that folks on the inside say this is disingenuous. When the cameras are off, Danica's about as girlie as Chuck Lidell in a miniskirt. Which I believe sends the wrong message to young girls: You've gotta be beautiful, and girlie, and talented, and a bulldog on the racetrack to be great at this sport. That is a rare combination.

But it happens. I met WNBA legend Lisa Leslie at the USOC summit last week. Her book "Don't Let the Lipstick Fool You" comes out in a couple months, and Leslie says she hasn't played a quarter of basketball since high school without applying a fresh coat of pre-game color to her lips. She says she wants to show young girls you can be beautiful, and girlie, and still kick ass on the court. But—you don't have to be. Every night, out on the court with her, are four lipstick-less women kicking just as much ass. So young girls, no matter who they are, have someone they can releate with. That's where I think Leslie's message works and Danica's doesn't. Leslie is being true to herself, and celebrating who she is. Danica is being true to who her sponsors believe will sell more GoDaddy! or XM subscriptions, Hondas, Pioneer radios, hair product ...

And it's not like girls have many other female drivers to look up to as role models. Wanna be an Indy driver? Better pick up some leather panties.

However, Danica's not the only woman driving in the Indy league. Which brings me to my story. On Wednesday, our motorsports editor, JB Morris, asked me what I was doing for lunch on Thursday. IRL racer Sarah Fisher was in town promoting her new race team, Sarah Fisher Racing (she is a both the team owner and driver) and giving media rides in her two-seater Indy car. "Wanna go?" he asked. "I nominated you for a ride." Ummm, yeah.

So, Thursday afternoon, I took a video camera and espnthemag.com video producer Lyndsey Read down to Union Square to meet up with Sarah. She took me for a spin (if that's what you call driving a car that tops out at 200-plus about 15 mph in NYC traffic) and then we talked about being an owner, her return to the Indy series from stock car racing, her days in a Sprint car and Danica's win. The video will be up on the mag.com site closer to the May 26 Indy 500, and I'll be sure to link it up here.

For those of you who want to know what it feels like to sit in an open-wheel racecar:

Open-wheel drivers say they become one with their cars, that they drive as if the car is attached to them, an extention of their own bodies. I understood that as I strapped the seatbelts around my torso. I felt like I was strapping on an Indy car backpack.

Although I knew all of this going in, I couldn't help being surprised at how exposed I felt, how low to the ground my body was positioned, and how intensely I could feel every bump and turn. My outstretched legs were no more than six inches above the blacktop and I was eye level with the tops of the tires of most cars. It reminded me of sitting in a go-kart as a kid. I can't imagine the force of turning that car up to 200 mph. (But man, did I want her to!) Any time we could get a bit of space between us and the car in front, Sarah would gas it—for a good half block. Instantly, I was aware that there is a whole lot of power fueling a whole notalot of car, and I could feel it in my bones.

Before we left for the ride, mag.com coordinating producer Lori Berlin asked me to "come with her". The show E:60 was shooting in our office that day, and their makeup artists were hanging around waiting for the next talent to glam up.

"This is Alyssa," she said, introducing me to the women. "She's on camera lately, and she doesn't really wear makeup." Just as you probably do now, I saw it coming ...

"Can you show her how to put on lipstick, please?"

I have to admit, I secretly love this time of year. And I don't mean Springtime in New York (although I do). I mean the announcement of the player who will grace this year's incarnation of EA's Madden NFL video game.

I love it because it means sportswriters all around the country will be talking about the Madden Jinx. When will it strike? What team will be affected? Will it strike at all?

So why do I care? Because ... I made it up—in 2002, the year Marshall Faulk graced the cover. The Madden Jinx was the very first piece I pitched to The Mag. My first ESPN clip. I owe a lot to that made-up jinx. If it's not responsible for landing me my job at The Mag, it was at least the idea that made a few editors say, "Hey, that Cheerleader mag chick gets us."

It also meant my first real interview with a pro athlete. Kind of. I e-mailed questions to Faulk's agent. When they came back answered, I remember thinking, "Wow, Marshall Faulk maybe answered questions, written by me, that his PR person possibly took the time to ask him. How cool is that?"

Well, with today's announcement, it all may come crashing to an end. The athlete fronting this year's Madden cover is Brett Favre, the first retired athlete on the box. Unless he pulls a Junior Seau and reappears in a Patriots jersey in a few months (ooo, that's a frightening thought), or pulls a Favre and just returns to the Packers, this year's coverboy has no chance of continuing the curse.

So, Brett, if I can make one request of you ... please come back. My reputation's on the line here.

I went to the NFL Draft this weekend. It was my first time.

I'm working on a story on former Boston College QB Matt Ryan and was hoping to spend some time with him and his family. You know, watch a few draft picks, score a couple childhood stories from mom, meet his sister and brothers and call it a day. If predictions were right and Ryan was going number three to Atlanta, I'd be out of there in no time.

What was I thinking?

I'm not sure. I've watched the Draft on TV for years, so I honestly can't tell you what I expected in person. What I did know was that on my list of ways I'd like to spend a Saturday, watching the Draft ranked just below watching paint dry. Aside from professional curiosity, I've really never had a desire to sit in a room (even if that room is in Radio City Music Hall) and listen to a guy at a podium call out names. I could do that at the DMV. Besides, Blackberry updates could quench my need to know, and at home, I could see everything ticket holders see in person—and then some. And I wouldn't have to put on a suit. But I also can't say I wasn't at least a little curious.

When I arrived at Radio City, I was stunned. Hundreds of sports fans clad in gameday gear were staking out the building, hoping for a glimpse of the players. Inside was something I can only describe as an NFL Superfan convention: thousands of fans who had paid hundreds of dollars to throw on a team jersey, sit in a cushioned theater seat and cheer once every few hours when their team was on the clock. Don't worry. They kept themselves busy by booing the other 31 picks. It was like a Star Trek convention. Except, obviously, there were way more guys in funny outfits with pointy ears milling about the Draft.

I grabbed my credential, press area seat assignment (and NFL Draft radio, just in case I had to take a bathroom break and miss a few minutes of the waiting) and entered the fray. Luckily, as predicted, my stay was "brief"—I was out in three hours—as Ryan indeed went third overall. Down in the interview room, I met a few members of his family. I say a few, because Ryan had at least 30 family members in attendance.

Mrs. Ryan said when Matt was first invited to New York, he was hesitant to come because he was afraid there would be a limit on family members. When he found out there was no limit, well, let's just say the Falcons should be excited. They're about to be the best road team in the league. "Yes, the Ryans travel well," Mom said. On Saturday morning, 18 of Matt's younger cousins hopped a train from Philly to surprise him in New York. And everyone from Uncles to high school coaches to his "bitty ball" coach made the trip, as well.

Leaving, I still didn't fully understand the draw for the average sports fan. But for the friends and family and coaches of a player invited to the Draft, I certainly understood what all the fuss was about.

"What? I'll be making how much?"