Why We Work in Sports: A Love Letter to the Game and the Grind
I was a little girl sitting cross-legged on the carpet when Brandi Chastain ripped off her jersey and dropped to her knees in that black sports bra - victorious, electric, unapologetically powerful. It wasn’t just the moment the U.S. won the World Cup. It was the first time I understood what it meant for a woman to take up space in sports and be celebrated for it. The crowd roared. The country watched. And suddenly, being a girl with big dreams and a ball at her feet didn’t feel so far-fetched.
Brandi Chastain, forever cemented in sports history after her iconic 1999 World Cup celebration (Robert Beck/Sports Illustrated)
That summer in 1999, every girl I knew showed up to soccer camp in fresh Umbros and a ponytail slicked back like Mia Hamm. We reenacted Brandi’s moment on every patch of grass we could find. That was the spark - the beginning of a love for the game. And over time, it became more than that. It became my reason for working in sports. When you’re lucky enough to witness that kind of history as a kid, you spend the rest of your life chasing ways to be a part of it.
I grew up in a house where my parents pushed me to be the best version of myself - not the best girl version, but simply the best. With two daughters first, my dad figured he was signing up for a life of pink and dance recitals. But my mom quickly reminded him: “These girls can do anything the boys can do.” And we did. Sure, we wore tutus and took ballet, but we also grew up in a neighborhood full of boys - playing pickup baseball at the playground, sprinting through Capture the Flag, and riding bikes until the streetlights blinked on. My first crush was Benny “The Jet” Rodriguez from The Sandlot, and I saw myself in Sheryl Yoast from Remember the Titans - fiery, opinionated, fearless. I didn’t just want to watch the game. I wanted to be in it.
Sarah (right) with her older sister Allison - the two grew up playing soccer, basketball, golf, and tennis together and later overlapped as students at the University of Wisconsin-Madison.
In high school, I started to realize I wouldn’t be playing professionally - but that didn’t change how deeply I felt the pull of the sports world. I wasn’t sure where I belonged - on the mic, behind the scenes, or somewhere in between. Back then, there weren’t many obvious paths for girls who wanted to work in sports. So, I picked journalism, hoping to follow in the footsteps of the women who were carving out space where there wasn’t much before.
Before we ever worked in sports, we listened. And in the early 2000s, something started to shift. Pam Ward made history calling college football. Doris Burke owned the NBA sidelines with poise and precision. Erin Andrews became a household name - not just for her reporting but for her resilience. She navigated the pressure, the scrutiny, and the constant commentary on her appearance with a calm fierceness that said, 'I belong here.' Bit by bit, we started hearing voices that sounded more like our own. Not shouting to prove a point, but steady - undeniable.
That’s when the love affair deepened. Not just with the game, but with the grind. The showing up. The speaking up. The knowing, deep down, that this world was never just for them. It’s for us, too.
Like any athlete knows, the road to greatness—or even just belonging—is rarely linear. In my decade-long career in sports, I’ve heard more “no’s” than I can count. I’ve been talked over in rooms, had basic rules explained to me, and been told I’d never sell a sponsorship. I’ve wanted to quit more times than I’ll admit. But I stayed. I stayed because I still believe in the power of the moment - in the goosebumps before kickoff, in the flyover that makes you pause, in the overtime buzzer-beater that sends a stadium into orbit.
Sarah at Super Bowl LIX in Las Vegas, where she supported NFL league and athlete partnerships for clients during the first-ever Super Bowl hosted in the city.
And I stayed because the industry is changing - for the better. We’re no longer just selling stats and scores. We’re telling stories: of athletes and their identities, of locker room culture, of fashion, of family. We’re building brands that matter and creating a more human, more inclusive version of sports. One where diverse, female-forward voices aren’t just welcome - they’re needed.
Because at the end of the day, it’s still a team sport. Whether you’re behind a desk or behind home plate, you’re working towards something bigger than yourself. That’s the magic. That’s why we do it.
So yes - I do it for the love of the game. But I also do it for the little girl I was 20 years ago, who dared to dream beyond the sidelines. And I do it for the next generation of little girls - the ones showing up to camp with fresh cleats and big ideas, who’ll never once question whether they belong.
About the Author
Sarah Lucareli is a sports marketing professional, storyteller, and lifelong fan of the game. With extensive experience in the sports partnership and athlete marketing space, Sarah has worked across MLB, the USGA, NFL, and NCAA football and basketball, bringing brand stories to life both on and off the field. She is passionate about creating authentic fan experiences, championing women in the industry, and building a more inclusive sports world. Sarah is a proud Wisconsin Badger graduate and currently resides in Chicago, IL.