My Bio

Ted BodenraderThere’s an old adage that writers are just hacks who failed to reach their dreams of becoming sports heroes, movie stars, rock singers – or wherever their childhood fancies ventured.

Well, I am living testament to the contrary. Even as an adept athlete and rabid sports fanatic, I figured out at an early age that my lifelong passions would not involve a bat, helmet, or jersey, but rather the almighty pen. As a young child, my most cherished gift was the prehistoric typewriter I received on my ninth Christmas. Within weeks, I’d worn a half-dozen ribbons down to the inkless strand. I vividly recall banging out a 105-page book on the National Hockey League (NHL), complete with crayoned illustrations, and pawning zeroxed copies off to my fourth-grade comrades for a buck apiece.

By junior high, I’d become the sports editor of my suburban town’s weekly paper, churning out sports articles for a whopping five bucks a pop. At 13, while my classmates were bagging groceries and mowing lawns, I was capping two or three bylines per week for the Lawrence Eagle-Tribune, one of the largest dailies in the Greater Boston region, covering everything from baseball to badminton for the Pulitzer Prize-winning publication.

Shortly thereafter, I notched the Alan B. Johnson Memorial Scholarship for excellence in journalism, and still amid my Emerson College stint, delved into dual careers with the Boston Herald and Newburyport Daily News. At the latter, I was a courtside reporter of the Boston Celtics at age 20, soaking in the final act of the Larry Bird era. At the former, I invested nine years of service, where I was assigned everything from high school lacrosse to Boston Red Sox baseball.

Unforgettable, of course, was my first-ever trip to Las Vegas in 1997, where I covered the now-infamous Mike Tyson-Evander Holyfield heavyweight championship rematch for the Herald. Close enough to hear the ear cartilage crunch between Tyson’s molars, the event served as a springboard for my 12-year stint in the sweet science, where I became a nationally-renowned boxing scribe and multimedia personality. After penning weekly columns and covering live championship bouts for the Herald, I began crafting regular features for the legendary Ring Magazine in 1999, an eight-year endeavor that spawned global recognition, my work often showcased on networks like HBO and Showtime.

Meantime, my boxing prowess soon branched into additional media outlets. From 2003-2007, I became the official “Boxing Insider” for Sports Pulse, the Comcast network’s nightly sports talk show, aired throughout Greater New England. I also became the producer and host of the popular New England Ringside radio show on Sporting News Radio (aired in Boston, Providence, and Hartford), conducting regular interviews with some of the most celebrated names in the history of pugilism.

After nearly a decade at the Herald, and feeling a case of the “been there, done that” bug, I pursued more lucrative endeavors of technical writing. In 2001, my full-time career veered into the high-tech world of corporate Americana. Interviews with professional jocks were replaced by discussions with engineers, programmers, and developers. Before long, I was creating libraries of user guides, release notes, and whitepapers for such IT corporations as SunGard, EMC, and Teradyne, Inc., audiences ranging from in-house personnel to multitudes of end users from around the planet.

My endeavors soon expanded into marketing avenues, as I constructed press releases, email blasts, web copy, and sales-privy marketing tools for various sports promotional companies. As I interwove a technical writing career with my freelance adventures, one common remark was so frequently slung my way from corporate peers. “This stuff must be so unexciting compared to writing sports for magazines.”

Well, it’s not the subject matter that whets my appetite. It never was. Rather, it’s the experience of my fingertips dancing across a keyboard, performing symphonies with words.

After all, writing has remained the one constant throughout my life.

I can barely make toast without it turning to ashes. Ironing? That’s something reserved for the golf course. And the only screwdriver I’m interested in is splashed over the rocks.

But when it comes to writing, there’s little I haven’t done with a keyboard and a fresh cup of Folgers.

It’s just what I do.