A Quick Word about Carly Schaber

My friend is one ferocious lady, and it's her birthday.

Today is my friend Carly’s birthday. She is “how many years she damn well pleases to be” years old. (In other news, it’s basically 50 divided by two.) I’ve known her for a long time. A period of time that makes you stop and think exactly how long it’s been before ending up at the proper conclusion: Hey math genius, just say long time!

There are certain people on this chaotic rock that you need in your life, even if it’s unconventional. I met and became friends with Carly Schaber when we were both writing for a website called Arch City Sports. A Twitter follow became a social media friend, and then a real life pal. Before I could properly understand how awesome Carly was, she was lifting me off the ground at a St. Charles Chill hockey game.

Schaber is a passionate person, and that’s an understatement. When she is talking to you less than six feet away, it’s like you’re looking at a live wire. Ideas seem to race around her head while the conversation goes, and all you can do is try and keep up. You need friends in life like that, ones that give all of themselves to a friend and also bounce ambitious ideas off you.

We did some radio and writing together, but it was the conversations we’d have from time to time that stick out to me. Whether it was a quick Uber ride across town or a coffee stop at a local joint, I always learned something from her. She’s the much younger lady teaching this aging loudmouth new tricks every time we get to hang.

If you know her, it’s quick to ascertain that she has been through a lot in her young life. That’s a story for her to tell, and you should be following all of her socials. She doesn’t tweet like any other human being. It’s genuine, short, and to the point. No threads or special greetings required when the lady in the profile pic looks like she could John Wick your ass through drywall.

Carly fires off soccer and baseball opinions with texture and a little Joe Strauss-type snarky intent, Atlanta weather takes, homemade Italian cuisine updates from her awesome husband, as well as her latest professional accomplishments in a single thread spread across a few days or weeks. You never know when she is going to tweet, but you’re definitely glad she did.

Carly walks to her own beat; her own rhythm and motion have a way of their own. You get that about her right away. If the standard quo was that way, she’s looking the other fucking way. Those tweets aren’t standard depictions of what’s going on in her life; they’re often treated with a fine layer of comic wit that sneaks up on you. That’s what I like the most about her; everything about her sort of sneaks up on you, yet still looks larger than life from afar.

I once met her at her former workplace, and you could spot Carly out of about 60 people. Tall, long dark hair, glasses, a no bullshit demeanor about her, and tattoos. Oh, we haven’t talked about the gorgeous artwork on Ms. Schaber’s arms.

What once carried one or two tats, now carries a vicious story that requires you to see every single creature and shape that found its way into the imagery. My personal favorite is a lion that adjourns her right forearm. Other areas include flower art. It’s all very well done ink.

Before I go, two more things about Carly. First, she is a killer OG in a media room. The one year we covered the Winter Warm-Up downtown together, she brought it. The outfit, the professionalism in a male-dominated arena. It was her and Jenifer Langosch I think in that room. Carly has “it,” and it’s always been fun to watch that unfold in public to others who don’t know her as well.

Second, she always looks out for her friends. A month or so ago, she texted me out of the blue, “DAN.” That was the whole text. What would become a potential offer-the opening of my potential partnership with a wildly growing company-simply boiled down to her looking out for her friend.

That’s me. A pretty lucky position. Cheers to you, birthday lady.