I’m often asked how I got a job writing about baseball for a living. How I managed to turn a legal career and life in an office tower to blogging in my pajamas. The people who ask me that do so in the same way that they might ask a magician how he guessed the card they picked. As if there were some simple trick to it all that, were I so moved, I’d be willing to divulge.
I don’t have an answer for them. There was a lot of luck involved. Some of that luck was the residue of design. It wasn’t good design. Indeed, looking back I’m struck by how reckless I was to make many of the decisions I made while crossing over from the real working world to however you’d describe the world in which I’m more or less paid to argue with people on the Internet all day.
I write a daily recap of the previous night’s events in baseball called “And That Happened.” It doesn’t seek to explain all that much. It merely sets forth what occurred and tries its best to place those events into some kind of understandable context. That’s the best I can do with my career path as well.
I’m going to spend some time over the coming weeks writing down a bit about how I got where I am in life. A lot of it about my legal career and a lot of it about how I came to be a writer. Someone may find it interesting. But even if they don’t, I feel the need to do it for myself. As the last few entries suggest, my life sort of blew up recently. I’m dealing with that pretty well all things considered, but I have been worried that all of this chaos will push all which came before out of my brain for good as I begin a new chapter – hell, a new volume – of my life. As a result, I kind of want to get that old stuff down before it slides out forever. For posterity, if nothing else. A demarcation between my old life and my new one.
Maybe this will work. Maybe it won’t. We’ll see.