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Writing About Writing About Baseball

June 19, 2014

New-York-Journal-American-writer-Frank-Graham-sitting-at-typewriter-covering-Army-Navy-game-827x1024

When I started this blog in February 2011, I had been a working journalist for nearly a decade. But I rarely got to write about sports; my beat was generally less important stuff like elections and government meetings and profiles of supposedly powerful or interesting people, none of whom had the good sense to play baseball.

Oh, I managed to shoehorn in the odd athlete human-interest feature here or there, and even finagled a press pass to AT&T Park, conducted a two-minute interview with Tyler Walker then spent three-plus hours wandering around the clubhouse, field and press box trying with limited success to not look like a hyped-out-of-his-gourd 12-year-old.

I’m still a working journalist — which means I need to borrow some money — and I still generally write about not-baseball. Recently, however, I scored a gig writing for Bleacher Report, about the NL West, mostly.

This is cool because:

a) They pay me actual American dollars;

b) They attract thousands of eyeballs;

c) Did I mention the actual American dollars?

My wife is a patient woman; she married me, after all. But there are only so many hours in a day, and only so many of those hours that I can spend looking up George Kontos’s WHIP before divorce proceedings are initiated.

So…this isn’t a goodbye. I will continue to update this blog as time and my marital status allow, particularly if there are big things happening with the Giants that I can make stupid jokes about. But my already infrequent posts may become even more infrequent. For the literally dozen of you who have flattered me by reading this blog regularly, I say: many thanks, and please keep checking back.

You can also read my Bleacher Report stuff — which is less Giants-centric and will feature 8o percent fewer bad puns — here.

Thanks again for hanging out in this little slice of Giants fandom. This season — what with the Giants losing eight of ten and Clayton Kershaw being a superhuman ball-thrower from the planet Curve-Lankia — is looking an awful lot like it may go from a fun day at the county fair to a fire on the ferris wheel and crazed carnies running screaming into the night.

We need each other, is what I’m saying. Now more than ever.

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One Comment leave one →
  1. sid sandwich permalink
    June 19, 2014 4:33 pm

    Fuck Mellonhead. What a piece of shit he is.

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