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| A lot changed when he showed up, including my ability to work |
I realize the true two-year mark of #Project365 is actually effective Thursday.
Except, it's really today. Hear me out.
I pondered doing a post-per-day several times over the years, even having a few false starts around 2011-12.
Then, at the end of every year, I'd tell myself to write more. So there were always a few posts around Dec 30-Jan 2.
And so it was two years ago on Dec 30 that I decided to write a post on "Classic Play-by-Play." I did it, I'm sure, because I was horrified that I had let the blog slip down to just 33 posts for 2018. I was very much at the point of ending it.
I had pondered just stopping.
I had considered a farewell with a "Gone Fishing" or "Sorry, We're Closed" sign.
I had considered a "Goodbye for Now" post, leaving the door open for a Sinatra-style retirement before gloriously returning at Madison Square Garden (introduced by Howard Cosell). Oh, wait, that was 1974.
Then there was option four: keep going and do the damn post-per-day.
John Nash (still the co-conspirator and podcast co-host) said he was starting a post-per-day and encouraged me to do the same.
The stars seemed to align to give it a go, so I did. Post number one was on Dec. 30, 2018 with the post about classic broadcasting, and post number two was to announce that I was taking a stab at #Proejct365. I even used the "Closed" sign to indicate how close I was to shutting down.
So began the journey of posting from a parking lot because I wouldn't be home before midnight and writing a post a day ahead because I wasn't sure when I'd be able to write (going to North Carolina) and finding time before falling asleep after being up for 24 hours to go to San Francisco.
And on. And on. And on. And on. I liked some of the posts. I didn't like plenty of others. I still wonder if I'm a better or worse writer. I think I'm less confident than I used to be, but that's my own damaged goods.
I cranked out words and thoughts and just enough personal stuff to get me in trouble. I bled a bit. Laughed some. Felt different emotions at other times. Often felt like I told too much, even if I didn't.
The locations haven't always been exotic (well, San Francisco was cool) but it was still fun to write from some places. But, especially in 2020, most of the posts happened at home. Most from the room I occupied until early September. The rest from upstairs in the house -- be it the couch, office, dining room or in bed.
Some stories were a joy. Some were a drag. Some were probably too gruff. Some might not have been gruff enough.
So, if you're keeping track, that was two posts in 2018, 365 in 2019, and 364 so far in 2020.
Thus this is post number 731 in a row, meaning two straight years, with an extra day for leap year, because (what else?) 2020.
Somehow, this blog -- this ridiculous, dogs*it blog -- was visited over 67,000 times in the past 12 months. Why? How? I can only tell you what the stats told my (still-shocked) eyes this morning. That doesn't mean 67,000 read the posts but it means they at least glanced at the site. That counts for something, I guess.
"The Bronx Bracket," about one of those silly "March Madness-style" votes, was the top post. Not surprisingly, the next two posts (#2: link...#3: link) and four of the top 10 overall (#7: link...#10: link), were about my mother's death and the aftermath.
Ridgefield's win in girls basketball (#4), Star Wars (#5), Little League Baseball (#6), Thom Brennaman (#8), and an editorial that didn't sit well with me (#9) was among the other top reads.
Out of sadness, grief, triumph, and COVID, there's still me, Sean, and now Rascal. We're survivors.
Obviously, I'm grateful to a lot of people for coming along for this ride. Too many to count, starting with Susan, who I will one day write a more complete post about (whether she likes it or not).
This, however, is not the last post of 2020. It's more to acknowledge 731 days of dogs*it. Or over 14 years since this started. Or 52 years, but you get the idea.
I was recently asked what I'll do come Friday when 2021 arrives. Will I take a day -- or days -- of? The answer is "no." I know me. It's a habit now. It's a challenge. It's a burden at times. But it's what I do.
One thing I am considering is retiring the Project 365 hashtag. I've thought about that for some time and I haven't made up my mind.
I know that I'm going to take on writing game recaps for the Renegades come baseball season, so we'll see what impact that has on "Exit 55." Will I finish a third year? You know what? I'm going to just worry about today. Then tomorrow.
That's how I live my life. Or how I should. I get overwhelmed when I look ahead.
"All I want from tomorrow is to get it better than today," Bruce Hornsby once wrote (and Huey Lewis took it to number one).
And so we'll go to number one. Post number one of year three.
Tomorrow.
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