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When Bob Wischusen 鈥�93 arrived at Boston College in 1989, he knew exactly what he wanted to do. 鈥淚 was laser focused,鈥� he said. 鈥淚 was going to be a sports broadcaster.鈥�

Just two years earlier, the first all-sports radio station in the country, WFAN, had launched in New York, and Wischusen was obsessed. He imagined himself as one of the hosts, and even collected cassette recordings of the station鈥檚 best debates. On his second day at BC, he went to WZBC, the student radio station, and asked if anyone was covering athletics. The station, which was better known for alternative music than talk, had only one sports talk show, Sports Tonight. It aired every Monday evening, he was told, and if Wischusen was interested, he could join. He signed up immediately.

Wischusen encouraged Christian Megliola 鈥�93, one of his two randomly assigned roommates, to join him at the station. Over the semester, they met other sports fanatics who wanted to contribute to Sports Tonight. One was a fellow freshman, Joe Tessitore 鈥�93, who was studying marketing at the Carroll School of Management. Tessitore鈥檚 football career had been derailed in high school by a broken leg, and he relished the opportunity to be close to the game again. Another member of the show was Jon Sciambi 鈥�92, a sophomore transfer from William & Mary who鈥檇 come to BC to play baseball. The group thrived in the freewheeling talk radio format, debating and analyzing the latest in BC athletics and taking listener calls. 鈥淭here was this real good chemistry between us,鈥� Sciambi said. 鈥淲e had the same interests, the same passions. On-air, off-air, we were always making each other laugh. Just thinking about it now is making me smile.鈥�

More than thirty years later, Tessitore, Sciambi, and Wischusen have become three of the most successful voices in national sports broadcasting, and Megliola has become the senior vice president of communications for the Boston Celtics. Among their many other accomplishments, Tessitore spent two seasons as the play-by-play commentator for Monday Night Football, Sciambi will call this year鈥檚 World Series for ESPN Radio, Wischusen is the radio voice of the New York Jets, and Megliola has excelled in one of the most demanding jobs in sports communications, overseeing the entire public relations wing of an NBA team with a notably rabid fan base. They鈥檝e each attained a coveted position in intensely competitive fields, but back when they were getting their start on WZBC, they were just kids who loved sports and arguing in equal measure.

鈥�Those were hysterical years,鈥� Tessitore recalled. 鈥淓veryone was really talented at a young age. Bob was ridiculously good at hockey play-by-play. Christian was ridiculously knowledgeable about basketball. And Sciambi could do everything. It was eye-opening. I remember thinking, Man, these guys are just excellent.鈥�

Sports Tonight started to develop what Megliola called an 鈥渋ntimate but enthusiastic following鈥� around BC. 鈥淲e had regular callers,鈥� he said. 鈥淲e were learning on the fly, but we took the journalism seriously鈥攏o one was having a couple of beers and then getting on air. I think it鈥檚 unusual for college kids to have that kind of discipline.鈥�

Wischusen attributed the quality of their show to a certain competitiveness between the friends. They were always trying to one-up each other, whether they were on air or just hanging out at the Mods. 鈥淚f you didn鈥檛 know your stuff, if you didn鈥檛 bring that knowledge, you were going to get exposed and made fun of,鈥� Wischusen said. 鈥淚t was like a master鈥檚 degree in sports.鈥�

None of which is to imply that they didn鈥檛 know how to have fun. On one occasion, Wischusen, Tessitore, and Sciambi followed the football team to West Virginia to cover a game. 鈥淲e flew from Boston to Pittsburgh to Morgantown, which was ridiculous because it鈥檚 like a seventy-minute drive from Pittsburgh to Morgantown,鈥� Wischusen said. 鈥淏ut none of us knew that. We booked this plane from Pittsburgh that looked like a flying milk carton.鈥� BC won the game, and afterward the three ended up at the hotel bar on a Saturday night. And, as is known to happen with college guys, they stayed out so late that they missed the next morning鈥檚 flight home.

Still, for the most part, the guys were all getting increasingly serious about their careers. As graduation neared, a switch flipped for Tessitore. He no longer saw himself in a business or marketing career after college鈥攈e wanted to keep talking sports. So did Sciambi, who鈥檇 been cut from the baseball team, and Megliola and Wischusen were equally intent on careers in sports journalism.

At first, things didn鈥檛 look too promising. Megliola moved back in with his parents after graduation and got a job making five dollars an hour at Newbury Comics. Wischusen tried fruitlessly to find a job at two radio stations where he鈥檇 interned during college. Sciambi wound up covering local news at a tiny radio station in Bradford, Pennsylvania, population nine thousand. And Tessitore was going back and forth between Boston and Dallas, where he鈥檇 found a freelance TV opportunity he hoped would turn into something full-time.

Then in June 1993, Wischusen鈥檚 former internship supervisor told him about a producer job at WQAM sports radio in Miami. 鈥淚 went from having no idea this job even existed to packing up a car and moving to Miami about a week later,鈥� Wischusen said. He had his foot in the door鈥攂ut just barely. He was making $7.10 an hour. 鈥淭his was 1993, not 1953鈥攖hat鈥檚 how little they were paying me,鈥� he said. But it was a real job at a real sports station. Roughly a month into his time there, the program director approached him. 鈥淗e walked into the control room and said, 鈥楧o you know anybody dumb enough to come down here and do what you鈥檙e doing for no money, too?鈥� And I was like, 鈥業 got just the guy.鈥欌��

Wischusen told them about Sciambi. WQAM offered him a position, and he moved down to Miami, where he crashed on Wischusen鈥檚 couch. The two college buddies had essentially the same producing job, just different shifts, Wischusen during the day and Sciambi at night. They both remember the best part of those years the same鈥攖he free food. 鈥淎t every sports game, they fed the media,鈥� Wischusen said. 鈥淲e were a couple of twenty-one, twenty-two-year-olds making seven bucks an hour, who could go to any professional or college sport whenever we wanted and could eat for free. We must have saved thousands in groceries.鈥�

鈥淭hat was kind of heaven,鈥� said Sciambi, who earned a new and lasting nickname at WQAM鈥斺�淏oog,鈥� due to his resemblance to MLB great Boog Powell.

While his friends were chowing down in Miami, Megliola鈥攖he son of Lenny Megliola, a popular sports columnist for the MetroWest Daily News鈥攎anaged to escape Newbury Comics and start his career by 鈥渏ust showing up鈥� at NECN, the twenty-four-hour Boston cable news station that had launched a year earlier. He wasn鈥檛 making any money, but he managed to parlay the experience into a part-time producing gig at the station, which led him to several full-time jobs afterward, eventually landing at Boston鈥檚 FOX25 as the head sports producer.

At that same time, Tessitore had turned his hustling into a real job as a broadcaster for an NBC affiliate in Dallas. Within a few years, he became the main sports anchor at WFSB in Connecticut.

鈥淎fter those first few years out of school, it started to become clear to me that we really had a special group of guys,鈥� Megliola said. 鈥淲e all found work in sports journalism, and it isn鈥檛 easy to do that. I started to think, Man, it鈥檚 going to be interesting to see where we all go.鈥�

Indeed, the crew鈥攁 鈥減retty good draft class,鈥� as Wischusen put it鈥攖ook off after its somewhat slow start. Wischusen left Miami in 1995, finding work at none other than WFAN, the station that had launched his love for sports talk. In 2005, he joined ESPN, calling hockey and college football and basketball.

Sciambi, meanwhile, stuck it out in Miami, landing a prime spot in 1997 calling Marlins baseball games for WQAM. That led, among many other jobs, to doing play-by-play for the Atlanta Braves and, most recently, the Chicago Cubs. This year, you鈥檒l hear him calling the World Series on ESPN Radio, where he also announces Sunday Night Baseball.

Megliola left sports journalism in 1999 for a career in public relations at Regan Communications, one of Boston鈥檚 most influential PR shops. When Regan took on the Celtics as a client, the team鈥檚 top brass noticed Megliola鈥檚 impressive work, eventually hiring him in 2015 as senior vice president of communications.

While his friends were climbing the ranks around the country, Tessitore joined ESPN in 2002, delivering blow-by-blow boxing commentary. Over the next twenty years, he became one of the network鈥檚 most versatile commentators, announcing horse racing, college football, and from 2018 to 2020, Monday Night Football. (His son, John Tessitore, also attended BC, and was a punter for the football team. In 2020, during the ESPN broadcast of a BC鈥揅lemson game, Tessitore鈥檚 call of his son鈥檚 killer trick play drawing the Tigers offsides proved a heartwarming moment that quickly went viral.) On top of his work for ESPN, Tessitore now plays the straight man to comedian Rob Riggle on Holey Moley, a reality golf competition ABC series.

聽鈥淚t鈥檚 been really cool to see everyone succeed,鈥� Tessitore said. 鈥淚 don鈥檛 know that we all would have become who we became if it wasn鈥檛 for us being together at WZBC. Everyone was so sharp, so knowledgeable鈥攕uch precocious talents that it set the bar so high. We all raised each other鈥檚 game.鈥� 聽

Archer Parquette 鈥�18 is the managing editor at Milwaukee Magazine.