Night Owl Cards

Today is the one day out of the year that I feel like a hen in the fox house. No, I do not have a vote in the Baseball Hall of Fame balloting. But, yes, I am a sportswriter and editor, and I don't enjoy seeing my profession bashed as often as it is on this day. I don't enjoy listening to critics accuse writers of being elitist and sanctimonious and passing judgment, while they also judge. Last night on Twitter, someone who supposedly knows a lot insinuated that people who choose to write for newspapers for a living are stupid. And I thought, "How come there's never relentless insults of plumbers or accountants or hotel maids in my timeline? How come it's always sportswriters?" The fact is, the arguments that arise from the Hall of Fame vote are too divisive and too personal. It's so over-the-top. All of the critics' efforts, biases and prejudices are being invested into a museum in a southeast corner of New York state. That's all it is. It...

Hey! How about that! I was told to "give it a rest" in the last post! Yay me! That's got to be worth some blogging points doesn't it? Do I get a certificate? I mean, how do you know if this blog thing is even on unless you're pissing someone off! Heh. Serves me right for going into a subject that I said I wasn't going to address again. But then I got into an ornery mood for a variety of unrelated reasons, and it just all came out. You've got to love projection. Or displacement. Or whatever the term is. I could continue to project, and say this is my own damn blog and I write it for my own damn amusement and if you don't like it then read something else, and that I wasn't talking to you anyway . But that would be rude and counterproductive. So instead, I'll just write about the Topps Giveaway site some more. You know one other thing that I like so gosh darn much about that ... Just kidding. Instead of going into something divisive ...