This blog was unofficially conceived during the top of the 8th inning of a baseball game between the Los Angeles Dodgers and the San Francisco Giants on
As had happened every time Bonds stepped to the plate that series, the boos came quickly. Roughly half the stadium got to its feet, with the occasional fan holding up a sign that read “756*” or “Ruth did it on hot dogs and beer.” The first pitch was outside for a ball. So was the second.
Then, with Bonds facing a 2-0 count, the boos became decidedly louder.
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Stay tuned for the conclusion to that story. Most of the time, I’ll be writing about stuff just like that – as in, sports. But today will be a little different. I’d like to introduce myself, explain what I’m going to try to do here, and hopefully encourage some of you to check back with me soon.
My name is Dan Adler. I’m 21 years old, and I just graduated from college. My taste in music has changed disturbingly little since 1996, I walk into things, and I have an unfortunate love for bad puns – but I’ll keep them out of this blog.
Why, you ask, do I care who the crap you are? Fair question. I’m not the attraction here, and I can assure you here and now that this will never devolve into “21 reasons why I’m awesome today.”
However, you need to know who I am for two reasons. First, if you understand that there’s regular, ordinary, perfectly fallible me behind these columns, you will understand that whatever I write is nothing more than my opinion. If you know where I’m coming from, my particular quirks and biases, you’ll take whatever you see fit from my ramblings and not just disregard me the moment we have a little disagreement.
Second, frankly, this blog has a lot to do with me. I’m about to jump headlong into a – gasp – real job, where I will have to wear a suit and stop acting like a 12-year-old. But I love sports, and I love writing, and this is where I’ll be testing whether I want to turn one or both of those passions into something I could do for a long time.
This blog will be updated twice a week, on Tuesdays and Fridays. The goal is to have a roughly 1000-word column for you both days, although I’m not going to make any promises just yet.
Content-wise, any sport is fair game. My personal favorites are professional football and baseball, and college football and basketball, but you’ll be seeing a lot more than just that. Don’t run away if you see a column on pro cycling; if I write on a more fringe sport, I’ll make sure it’s accessible. I’ll also be looking to write on subjects beyond the sporting events themselves. That includes off-field issues, but also sports culture, such as movies, books and video games.
This blog will not be many things, but a few of those deserve special mention.
My frustration with much of sports coverage is best described by the immortal words of Brick Tamland: “I don’t know what we’re yelling about.” Athletes have done some stupid things lately, and some really bad things too. But I firmly believe that athletes on the whole are just as worthy of our respect as anyone else, and that the current popular atmosphere toward them is undeservedly toxic thanks to the over-exuberance of uninformed witch hunters. I will reserve my judgment for individuals who deserve to be called out.
At the same time, this blog will by no means blindly glorify sports and its trappings. To state the obvious, sports come with no small measure of trouble these days, and I will not hesitate to call them to your attention. While I don’t want to be just another angry voice, I will very much give the problems in sports their due in this space. On the flip side, when I write about the positive in sports, don’t expect 1000-word odes on the beauty of LaDainian Tomlinson’s field vision. You wouldn’t enjoy reading that, and I sure as hell can think of more exciting things to write about.
One last thing this blog will not be is a one-way street. The beauty of sports isn’t how hard Brian Urlacher can hit someone, or how easily Jose Reyes steals second base. The beauty of sports is that I can go up to someone I’ve never spoken to before in my life and immediately strike up a conversation based on any one of a million sports happenings. In that vein, WRITE ME. I know there’s not a heck of a lot to respond to in this entry, but there will be soon. Send me anything: Counterarguments, movie recommendations, job offers with Sports Illustrated. The more you write me and the more I know you’re out there, the more motivated I am to be creative in this space. You can reach me at: dansextrapoint@gmail.com.
Back to Dodger Stadium, and the big idea behind this blog.
The crowd had not become more raucous in protest of Barry Bonds’ 755th home run, nor any sign from the slugger. The boos were redirected toward the Dodgers. Catcher Russell Martin had stood up, stepped away from the plate and motioned for an intentional walk.
It says something that as much as the crowd at that baseball game may have detested Barry Bonds, not giving him a shot at Hammerin’ Hank was even more repulsive.
The bottom line is that despite steroid scandals, dogfighting and Isiah Thomas, sports mean something extremely special. My brain knows that Barry Bonds was probably hitting something a little harder than flaxseed oil, but that didn’t stop me from craning forward in suspense every time he came to the plate.
To say that sports merely distract us would be unfair. We want sports to save us, to show us that life can be pretty sweet sometimes. This blog won’t be looking at sports through rose-colored glasses, but I hope it reminds us there’s a reason we care.
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