Personal blog; professional portfolio

I decided to use this Web site, which used to be only my personal blog, for my professional portfolio. It should in no way alter the content of the blog.

At first, I was hesitant to put my portfolio on this site. Theoretically, I will be showing this site to potential employers, and this blog has not always been that professional. I wasn’t sure if my writing here was the best thing to show someone with my future in his hands.

I want to be a sports writer, but any sports editor who looked at this site would see that, when it comes to sports, I am not objective, that old journalism buzz word that causes everyone so much trouble. I’ve made it pretty clear in this space that I am a huge, biased, irrational fan of the Yankees, Knicks and Giants.

But in the end, I thought that my anxiety was silly. There’s no reason I should be ashamed to be a fan. Cheering for New York sports teams will in no way alter my ability to be a successful sports journalist. I can think of three pretty good reasons why this is the case.

1. I will probably never be a beat writer for any of those three teams. I’m not sure I could do it. I know I wouldn’t want to do it. Routing for those teams is too important to me for me to screw it up by mixing work with pleasure. Could I become independent from my teams to cover them impartially and without favor? I’m not sure. Do I have any interest in trying? Absolutely not.

2. At some point in my career, there’s probably a good chance that I will have to cover one of my teams at least for a game. A Lakers beat writer has to cover the Knicks twice a year. A Vikings beat writer has to cover the Giants every couple years. Covering any professional team would mean covering the Knicks, Giants and Yankees now and then. I am sure that covering one of my teams would be a great challenge.

But that’s completely irrelevant to this Web site. Regardless of whether I broadcast it on this site, the reality is that I am a fan of the Yankees, Knicks and Giants. Trying to hide it from employers would not change it. I think it’s a better policy to be transparent about my biases and try to work to minimize them when they conflict with my work than to simply deny that they exist. I think part of what led newspapers to completely lose the public’s trust was that they claimed they weren’t biased when in reality well all have inherent bias about one thing or another.

3. In the new media world, it’s good to be a real person. Obviously, every newspaper writer is a person. But for most of history newspaper reporters have allowed their personal lives to become public. Now, in the age of blogs and Twitter, it is nearly impossible to keep public and private completely separate. Plus, many of the people, bloggers and journalists alike, who have been most successful in the Internet age have not been afraid to show the world their personal side. At the ASNE ethics forum that was at MU last week, Jim Brady, who used to run WashingtonPost.com, discussed his use of Twitter and how he often tweets about his love of the Jets. He said he thought it helped him make connections online because it showed his followers that he’s just a regular guy. I think my allegiances should do the same.

Asking the Giants to turn around their season, my year

Eli Manning rolled to his right as he drifted farther back from the line of scrimmage. As he ran backward inside his own 20 with no time left on the clock and no chance to get the ball away, it became clear that he wasn’t going to throw a miracle 71-yard touchdown pass. Manning stumbled, then slipped, then fell to the ground as Chargers linebacker Shawne Merriman dived on top of him to end the game.

Really, it was clear the Giants were going to lose well before this final play. The game was over as soon as Vincent Jackson hauled in a touchdown pass from Phillip Rivers with 21 seconds left to put San Diego ahead 21-20, capping an 80-yard drive. Really, the game was over as soon as the Giants failed to score a touchdown (failed to even TRY to score a touchdown) when they had first-and-goal from the four on their previous possession. Giving the ball back to Rivers with a chance to win the game, considering how the Giants secondary had played all year, was suicide.

The only problem is, I just can’t bring myself to admit that the Giants are ever out of game, despite the fact that they’ve played two this year that were over before they started. My brain refuses to entertain the possibility that the Giants might not win the rest of their games, might not make the playoffs or might not win the Super Bowl. I just can’t let the Giants die. They’re too important to my life.

Too many words about toilet paper

Working and going to school is really stretching me thin, and this blog has suffered for it. But to paraphrase The Mountain Goats, I’m making my triumphant return to the city with Tec-9s tucked under the floorboards.

Much like God, brand loyalty works in strange and mysterious ways. My father loves Budweiser. Every night after he comes in from a hard day of physical labor on the farm, or now from a hard day of sitting in his office at the bank, he sits down with a Budweiser, the king of watery, bland American beers. “No matter where you are, a Budweiser always tastes the same,” he says. My dad would rather go thirsty than drink a Miller, that dirty pilsner.

Charlie McAlister Knows How to Pen a Verse

As those who know me best probably know, I really love The Mountain Goats. Like, The Mountain Goats are so good, I would place them in a class with Bob Dylan, CCR, The Beatles and The Rolling Stones. With a group of artists that great, there is no reason for me to pick between them when I can have them all, but if I had to choose one it just might be The Mountain Goats. They are that good.

Anyway, the lead-singer/songwriter/guitarist/sometimes-he’s-the-whole-band-ist for The Mountain Goats is a guy named John Darnielle, who The New Yorker, which owns, called “America’s best non-hip-hop lyricist.” He’s moved around a lot. He’s a vegetarian. He wrote a book called “Black Sabbath’s Master of Reality.” And he writes a blog called “Last Plane to Jakarta.”

Striving / Being Content No. 3 (Thrilling Conclusion)

When Jimmy was growing up, his parents and teachers told him that if he worked hard in life, he could achieve his wildest goals. Jimmy was smart, handsome and charismatic, but that’s not why people told him he could succeed. In America, we tell all children that they can accomplish whatever they set their minds to. The message is the same to the poor and the rich, to the stupid and the smart. After all, the most fundamental of all American principles is the possibility that, with a little elbow grease and a good idea or two, any pauper can become a prince. But now I’m losing track of Jimmy.

Why I should be on the Yankees’ Payroll

Last night, for the fifth time this season, I attended a Yankees game. The Bombers are now 5-0 with me in stands. If my journalism gig doesn’t work out, maybe I’ll become a professional good luck charm.

Imagine how great it would be if the Yankees paid for me to come to every game. They would never lose, finishing the season 162-0. The Red Sox could win 100 games, a number of wins that would usually make any team the best in baseball, and finish 62 games out of first place.

Striving vs. Being Content Take 2

When it comes to both reading and writing, my preference is for prose that is narrative, visual and descriptive. I like concrete examples better than abstract postulations. I like showing more than telling. Part of the purpose of creating this blog was to write narrative nonfiction. So far, some posts have been in line with that goal, like the one about the stuff on my desk, and other posts have not been in line with that goal, like this one. This bad boy is pretty philosophical.

However, I am interested enough in the idea of trying to hash out the best way to attain happiness, that I’m happy to throw out my usual writerly aims in the name of academic pursuit. In this post, I am going to respond to a comment made by the brilliant Rigolega (my roommate John). I’ll quote some of what he said and then respond from both sides of the argument.

To strive or to be content, that is a question Part 1

I have been planning to write a post about how much I love, respect and admire the work of Joe Posnanski, and I am sure I will still write that post at some point. My feelings about him are too strong to suppress for long. But today I am going to write about something that I started thinking about while reading one of Posnanski’s recent columns.

Which type of people are more happy, those that are constantly striving and working hard to achieve their goals, or those that are simply content with what they have already?

Posnanski recently wrote a column, or ranting babbling blog post really, about Raul Ibanez. Actually, he has written at least one other post about Ibanez recently as well.

Basically, the reason Joe loves Ibanez so much, if I dare be so presumptuous as to think I can articulately reproduce his thought, is that Ibanez was one of those athletes who never quit. His whole life was a list of doubters and injuries and setbacks and mediocre performances in short major league stints. But instead of giving up on his dream, which he had many, many opportunities to do, Ibanez kept believing in himself, finally becoming the oldest first-time All-Star in major league history this year.*

*Correction: As brilliant reader Rigolega points about, Ibanez was the oldest first-time All-Star among position players ever. A couple of pitchers have been older.

Observations From a Shake Shack Trip

Last week, I think it was on Wednesday, I walked the four blocks to the famous Shake Shack in Madison Square Park because I wanted an ice cream cone to wash down my takeout Chinese dinner. While there, I noticed a few things:

1. I really don’t understand why burgers have become so trendy in New York City. It’s puzzling that people can live in one of the most diverse cities in the world, with any type of food imaginable just a few blocks away, and all they eat is burgers and pizza. Even more baffling are sliders. I have a limitless list of questions about them: Why would people eat four tiny burgers when they could eat one big one? Why do fancy restaurants now list sliders on their menus next to steaks and elaborate pasta dishes? Why does anyone list sliders on their menus at all? Who are the people that actually pay 15 bucks for a plate of tiny, fake hamburgers? I digress.

2. It is amazing to me how many grungy, artsy guys end up with really stunning girlfriends. Apparently, average guys like me are just a weird haircut, a bunch of clothes from the Salvation Army, an interest in indie music, some trendy slang and a strong urge to only eat fresh food away from suddenly having women throw themselves at them.

The Lost Art of Calling It

Calling It just ain’t what it used to be.

I don’t care if I sound like a 70-year-old telling stories about how things used to be so much better back in the day.

Calling It used to be part of a sacred ritual. Now it has completely lost its luster.

The other day, my good friend Steve Weinman, who used to write for Celticsblog and now does some different things for the NBA, and I went out to lunch.

We were discussing the Dodgers’ offensive struggles while Manny Ramirez was out of the lineup. Many of the Dodgers players experienced statistical decreases in Manny’s absence. This wasn’t all because of Manny. Many Dodgers had performed way above their normal career levels in April, so they were bound to come back down to Earth with or without Manny.

The point is, Steve and I were discussing this when he brought up that he had Called that Andre Ethier would collapse without Manny. When he mentioned it, I remembered the official Call right away. On the day that Manny had been suspended, one of the first things Steve did was to announce his prediction that Ethier’s numbers would plummet, and if I recall correctly, Steve may have even thrown in a, “I’m Calling It right now,” just for good measure.

And as it turned out, Steve’s Call It was right on the money, as they say. Ramirez was suspended early in May. Ethier’s OPS in April was .976. In May it was .601. His batting average was .306 in April and .211 in May. Ethier ended up playing well in June without Manny, but Steve’s Call was good enough that he deserved some serious credit. A fist pound, high five or free brownie was definitely in order.

But for some reason, I just wasn’t feeling it. I congratulated Steve on his accomplishment, but I didn’t really put any emotion into it. It was just that Calling It did not seem that cool anymore.