Not that I had the ability, per se, but more that someone like me (uncredentialed, unlicensed,unsupervised) could waltz through the gates of an established website, flip the proprietor a writing sample, and basically be given the run of the place.
It wasn’t even that I was that good. It wasn’t that at all. Much to my initial amazement, I learned that virtually anyone could write for some of these sites, provided they possess Internet connectivity and few active braincells.
Understanding that reality, at that time, was extremely exciting to me (though as I write this now I am keenly aware of how absolutely scary it is as well.)
The first site that let me in the door was a fledgling compilation sports blog network called Sports Mixed. At the time, it was a little known and (evidently) sparsely-read group of
sites.
Even so, www.Redsmix.com was willing to let me post whatever ill-advised observations I could muster, whether they had anything to do with the Cincinnati Reds or not, simply because they needed someone to fill their space. I jumped at the chance.
For the better part of the 2010 season, I “covered” every Reds series, just because it was fun to publicly dissect the issues I thought about constantly. For someone who had loved writing since middle school and lived sports since birth, it was a captivating new escape.
And, frankly, it was just kind of cool seeing my name out there.
Soon after Philadelphia gave the Reds the unceremonious squadoosh in the playoffs (and yes, I was present for one of those atrocities), I came across the Bleacher Report (B/R). Similar to Redsmix, B/R offered an open format for getting my thoughts on sports out to anyone besides, well, my brothers. Even more redeeming, however, was that as much as Redsmix was the wobbly-kneed start-up, desperate for exposure, Bleacher Report was a veritable titan of industry (currently the fourth-most visited sports site on the Web).
Suddenly, instead of speaking to dozens on a good day (comments on Redsmix articles were about as frequent as designated drivers at the Kentucky Derby infield), I had the ability to reach thousands. Instead of publishing an article and dozing off to a symphony of crickets, my work was suddenly greeted by dozens of people calling me a douche.
Life was good.
Over the course of six months at B/R, I touched on a lot of topics. Along with the standard weekly National League Central pieces (including pieces like THIS on every possible angle of the Albert Pujols free agency saga), I did my best to branch out. I outlined the best course of direction for a moribund Bengals franchise. I jumped on the Jared Sullinger POY campaign, trumpeting what I thought was the best college basketball team in the nation (and at the time, March 2011, I still think they were) and I even wrote a piece on how compelling the Pro Bowl would be if they made the fat guys play the skill positions (just think about it). (For a complete archive of my B/R articles, click HERE.)
Generally, B/R opened a door for me that I never expected to be open. I met a lot of people, and got into more cyber-debates with homer nut-jobs than I can count.
Unfortunately, there was one aspect missing.
For Redsmix, I could write whatever I wanted, basically because no one was listening. An article on National League shortstop rankings could get sidetracked, completely unravel for 700 words or so, and end up as a persuasive essay on the benefits of boxers versus briefs. I could be knee-deep in a game analysis and suddenly find myself constructing a treatise on inter-marital mores and norms. I could literally end up anywhere, and as long as I was enjoying myself, it didn’t matter because no one seemed to be reading.
B/R was exactly what I was looking for -- a professional, well-respected site with an awesome vision and thousands of loyal readers. (And, even as I start this new direction, I plan to stay closely linked with Bleacher Report as a regular contributor). However, in order re-open the avenues to the obscure and focus on covering the teams and issues in my wheelhouse, I needed something else.
JOURNEYMEN is that something.
