I really had no idea what I was doing when I started this blog. No knowledge of HTML or web design. No clue how I was going to be able to produce interesting content (for me to write and for you to read) each week. No concrete plan for how I was going to make my little ol' blog different or better than the thousands of sports and pop culture blogs out there. I was scared I didn't possess the talent and creativity required to convince people to read my words. I still am.
It's truly an interesting concept upon further thought. With every post I publish on here, I'm really just casting out my line, hoping a fish or two will look at my bait and decide "That's my kind of bait." Since I don't fish at all I probably mangled that analogy, but the point (hopefully) is clear: I'm tasked with stimulating your mind enough that your brain will seek to continue to attain the source of the stimulation. I may be making this all seem more complicated than it is, but that's my thing. I overthink, I exaggerate, I make every trivial subject out to be the Cuban Missile Crisis in my head. This level of over-introspection and extreme self-awareness constantly leads me to deter myself from acting off instinct.
I started this blog because I have a passion for writing about, well, what I'm passionate about. That would be sports, music, maybe some TV shows and movies, and anything else I'm oddly interested in, like how my friends' gridiron abilities would be quantified in terms of Madden ratings. My passion for putting my thoughts into words extends to songwriting, a hobby that, despite genuine compliments I receive from people, I consistently self-sabotage because I put in my head that I'm not writing anything close to the poetry I'm hearing in my headphones.
My other cherished hobby, poker, may soon fall victim to that very fate, if that's even possible. Lately I've been watching A LOT of professional poker, and who knows, perhaps soon I won't even want to play with my friends any more because I'm not making reads as proficiently as Daniel Negreanu or Phil Hellmuth, or because I don't have the stones to make a bold pre-flop raise out of position like Tom Dwan. I will never even begin to ever attempt to live up to the gold standards those guys set in the game of poker, but if the thought ever creeps into my head, it can invade and conquer like 16th century Spain in Latin America.
What I'm really getting at is that I'm fully aware that I haven't posted anything since Selection Sunday, about 5 weeks ago. I think about it every day. It weighs on me like a digital pile of cinderblocks.
I easily could've whipped up a post about Duke's incredible run to a championship, but Mark Titus of Grantland said everything that could've been said, and he did it way better than I could've.
I could've written a post about the NBA MVP race (which I finally settled on Curry as my pick after months of being on #TeamBeard), but that was everyone's favorite topic to discuss and analyze. I decided there was no fresh take I could've provided.
I even could've wrote up something on the McDonald's All-American game, the pinnacle of high school basketball All-star games. I mean, recruiting is my thing in the world of sports. None of my friends rival my knowledge in that area, and I rarely even see college basketball and NBA writers delve into recruiting past a one-sentence mention. Yet, I didn't even watch the damn thing. I barely even perused the highlights.
So, what's my problem? Why can't I simply write? Well, at every turn, I doubt myself. I doubt the words that I type into my laptop, and I doubt that more than maybe 10 people are actually reading all of them. That last part is likely true. I've finally come to a point where I've accepted that. I'd be crazy to expect each of my blog posts to garner triple-digit unique readers who read and appreciate everything I write in my first 9 months of the site's launch. That's just not realistic.
Why even post anything if I'm not receiving any type of recognition for it, even if I enjoy writing most of them? That was my mindset, a toxic one to say the least. I retreated into a self-imposed exile all over the pessimistic and cowardly thoughts that rattled around in my head. An uptick in school work also contributed to my extended hiatus, but in no way am I passing that off as an acceptable excuse.
Just today, I was reading Bill Simmons' latest column, a rarity in these days. Now that's a guy with legitimate excuses to slack off in his writing. He's got an entire multi-platform website to run, along with an award-winning documentary series to executive-produce. If it sounds like I'm being sarcastic, I am most certainly not. I have idolized Mr. Simmons, along with a couple of the talented writers that he has hired, for years now. His personable writing style and willingness to address less-publicized topics in an entertaining and relatable way has captivated me from the very first column of his that I read.
I've always wondered how he developed his style, and how he reached the enviable, and well-deserved, perch he now sits on. I never sought his life story, because any magazine feature or Wikipedia entry likely wouldn't given me the proper gratification. Imagine how pleasantly surprised I was when, while reading Simmons' mailbag today, came across a link in the middle of it to a B.S. Report podcast he held 3 weeks ago in which he takes 40 minutes to detail his journey from wide-eyed college graduate to rising star in the ESPN machine.
At first glance, more than anything, I was stunned that I didn't see this when it originally went up on Grantland. I keep a firm look-out for new Simmons content, and I don't know how this one got past me. Anyway, I immediately listened to it, of course, and honestly, it may end up changing my life. At least I truly, truly hope it does. Simmons painstakingly described each professional phase of his life post-graudation. From Boston Herald lackey to part-time bartender to AOL upstart to ESPN's "Page 2", Simmons opened himself up completely to his loyal listeners in a truly admirable gesture from him to aspiring sports writers, or any young person who is struggling over whether to continue the pursuit of his/her dream or "give up" and settle for a less fulfilling occupation.
I swear I'm not an impressionable person. I don't really get inspired unless I come into contact with something I undeniably connect with on a extraordinary level. The overwhelming optimism and hope for a purely love-and-passion-filled life of J. Cole's 2014 Forest Hills Drive probably only rates like a 7 out of 10 on the scale that I just created that determines how inspired I get by something. Childish Gambino's astounding world creation/critique on modern human interaction otherwise known as Because the Internet generated a comparable level of inspiration.
In terms of resonating with the specific struggles I am currently dealing with pertaining to my future career, Simmons' 40-minute reminiscing session had an unparalleled effect on my psyche. His detailing of how he came to acquire each job was compelling, sure, but his final advice is what stuck with me the most:
"There's really no way to help anybody. There's no magic sentence to tell somebody. Really it comes down to 'Are you willing to outwork everybody else? Are you willing to do whatever it takes to get a chance? And if you get that chance, how hard are you gonna work once you get it?'"
I've always known this to be true. It's a quite generic and oft-repeated set of rhetorical questions that can be applied to almost any field. Yet, I heard them coming from one of my largest writing influences, the man who brought my absolute favorite website/sports and pop culture content provider into existence. Something just kinda went off inside me. Something long repressed and nearly forgotten.
Drive. Ambition. Fire. True Fucking PASSION.
In my twisted logic, I generally assumed that with a really good GPA, a degree from Temple University, and the writing talent that I know I have but don't often showcase, I'll land a job writing for Grantland, or a similar publication, within a couple years of graduation.
"Yeah, I know I won't get it right out of college. But I'll get there soon enough. What could stop me?"
Myself, that's what. I never really possessed the right work ethic. I'm lazy, I'm a know-it-all, I'm apprehensive and prone to second-guessing. I may never overcome any of those deficiencies.
After hearing Simmons' advice, though, I realized that I can still make something of myself. Through all my difficulties, I've surprisingly never lost confidence in my ability to write. Sure, I'm not good enough at this very moment to start working for Grantland or a newspaper or anywhere really, but I have a knack for this that is readily apparent in the projects that I pour my heart into. I'm going to continue to improve and hone my skills, because that's what any other 18-year-old would do.
From now on, however, I'm going to work harder than any other 18-year-old, though. There's no way to quantify this (which is something I'm going to have to repeatedly remind myself), so basically it's all on me. I'm up for the challenge, because there's no one I'd rather bet on than myself.
This doesn't necessarily mean I'm going to start posting every day, or spend every hour of free time I have working on my blog. I'm still going to enjoy my hobbies, like songwriting and poker, as well as watch all the sports, TV shows, and movies I usually do. However, I believe that I'm finally ready and willing to put in the work necessary to reach the professional success I envision for myself.
Regular blog posts will resume starting tomorrow, with a post about my recent experience at a Trevor Noah (the next host of The Daily Show) stand-up show and how he used his act to retroactively audition for the job he already has. That may have sounded confusing, so be sure to read the post to gain clarification.
But for right now, I'm going to watch my Yankees hopefully end the Mets' 11-game winning streak, because I'm an 18-year-old kid who enjoys sports more than almost anything in this world. Just don't say I don't work hard enough from now on simply because I decided to watch sports rather than write about them.
To the few 10 AM'ers I may have, thanks for reading. You guys are the real MVP.
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