Writing about myself for a change
On the week of my 56th birthday a personal column appears to be in order
TEXAS CITY, Texas — Remember that “assignment” I thought I had Thursday?
It was Crosstown Clash football, Norman High and Norman North at Harve Collins Field, the stadium both programs have shared since North put together its first football team in time for the 1998 season.
People forget, but North actually opened its doors in time for the ’97-’98 school year, but the Tigers and T-Wolves shared a football team that fall wearing High’s colors and calling itself the Tigers.
I want to say that team went 8-2 and lost in the second round of the playoffs, though it might have been 9-1 and I could be off on the postseason memory, too. The great Butch Peters was the coach.
Though the bottom dropped out of both programs in the immediate aftermath of “The Split,” Peters still enjoyed a pair of 9-1 seasons before retiring and North, as you may know, played for two state titles under coach Brent Barnes and continues to be a strong winning program under coach Justin Jones.
As it turned out, it was not a Thursday night game and I couldn’t be there tonight — as I write this, Friday — because Gwenda and I will be stepping on a ship in Galveston by noon Saturday, hence that strange dateline, TEXAS CITY.
At this moment, in real time, High leads North 23-19 with the fourth quarter still to play.
Looks like a couple extra points may have been missed, but I can’t know. We spent most of the day driving, getting ourselves ready to get on the boat and, for a little while, taking in a couple Americans, Francis Tiafoe and Taylor Fritz, trying to reach the U.S. Open final where, just maybe, one of them might become the first Yank to win since Andy Roddick in ’03.
They’re on serve in the fourth set, Tiafoe, the 20h-seed, leading Fritz, the 12th, two sets to one.
I’ll be home to begin the week after the coming week, ready to re-enter Sooner football and Sooner state government and politics.
About that, and other things, I have the inclination to offer behind the scenes details and thoughts.
One, I just turned 56.
I had cancer surgery on the day of my 46th birthday — Sept. 2, 2014 — a tumor removed from my colon and while that certainly gave me a new lease on life, I don’t know that it changed my life. I wish I could say it did, but my sense, for better or worse, is it only extended it.
At the time, somebody told me I must feel a new, closer relationship to God having survived or, maybe, having been spared.
My answer?
“I’m just a sportswriter.”
Hopefully, I was a reasonably good and fair person before it all and remain so.
The things you think about when your birthday rolls around.
They cause one to take stock.
I have love in my life in the wonderful Gwenda, it’s fantastic and I’m fairly certain, without attempting arrogance, it’s a permanent thing.
Also, my daughter, Harper, remains fabulous, married to Carson, both on the ground floor of their dental careers, both happy.
I am rich in the ways people don’t typically use the word rich, rich in the way I described Andre Metzger being rich when he began the final round of Norman’s Korn Ferry Tour stop near the lead.
I am lucky.
Also, still, as always, I hope to make an impact with the writing.
At my old newspaper, The Norman Transcript, I still have the opportunity to be the sports section’s columnist two and, during football season, three days a week; though, for just the second time since my last football season at The Daily Ardmoreite, 1996, as a result of the vacation I’m on now will I miss back-to-back home games in the press box high above Owen Field.
The last time it happened, I wrote about the Sooners from afar, not credentialed at all for Brent Venables’ rookie head coaching season.
It’s good to be back in the box.
The Transcript pays me by the story, never more than $100 a pop and most of the time less.
I don’t begrudge it (much).
Journalism economics for the talent at small and mid-sized dailies — many of which are no longer daily — has never been particularly good, even when ownership printed money.
Now, nobody’s getting rich and those with jobs feel lucky just to have them even as their earnings mostly stand still.
I also have this, Oklahoma Columnist, in which I hope my subscribers continue to enjoy my thoughts.
Here, I’m closing in on 1,100 subscribers, which is a lot more than the hundred plus I was able to import quickly after my newspaper exit the last day of 2021.
Yet, of those, it’s just 100 and change receiving all of my writing, paying for the privilege to read beyond the paywalls I must sometimes erect.
Looks like it’s going to be Fritz tonight.
He took the fourth set 6-4 and leads 4-0 in the fifth. Perhaps I can find a bar on the ship to watch him try taking down No. 1-seed Jannik Sinner in Sunday’s final. American men’s tennis, which once owned the sport, has been waiting for a win like that forever.
Oddly, the vast majority of my paid subscribers, earned since the 2022 election, should more accurately be called “contributors,” having been moved to purchase via appreciation of my politics and government writing, columns I hardly ever place behind paywalls.
I don’t know what the future holds.
Though I’m fortunate at this point in my life to not have to make a killing at my writing endeavors to eat and pay bills — due to my father’s passing if I’m being honest. I’m afraid there’s no other way to say it — do a little math and you’ll quickly see I’m not creating a great deal of disposable income either.
I used to play poker, profitably, if you can believe it. But the downswings, which nobody avoids, crush the psyche and my heart’s no longer in it. I miss loving it, because I loved it, but I no longer miss playing and the time commitment it required.
Occasionally, I think I should write a good deal more politics and government. I’m told my stuff makes it around the capitol a little bit and I know I have some big-deal-real-life-elected-to-office subscribers.
But as long and dense as I often write, it can begin to feel like real work. Indeed, producing, say, five or six pieces a week, might feel like a full-time job, which was not the idea when it began. Not that I’m against working my ass off if I feel I’m making a difference. I did it for a long, long time. Nor do I want to abandon the sports I’ve been writing since my junior year of college.
Choices.
Maybe two Substacks?
One thing I’ve not tried is putting more and more behind paywalls.
My goal is to have an impact and letting less people read it feels counterproductive.
Maybe not a crossroads.
But food for thought.
I’m open to feedback.
More politics and government? More telling it like it isthere?
More sports? More Thunder, Oklahoma State and, who knows, U.S. Open tennis?
I appreciate communication with anybody who takes the time to read my stuff.
You don’t have to. I’m moved that you do.
Perhaps I just felt a personal column to be in order the week of my birthday.
Maybe only that.
Probably not only that.
As always, thanks for reading.
I’m all ears.
Look at that, the Tigers top the T-Wolves 37-27, a victory unexpected.
The prep football season’s always more exciting when Norman High matters.
Fun.
I love listening to your brain whether free flow like this one or sports! In fact, I count on you for sports reporting. When you are on a spin on politics, you always make me think (do I agree? And to what extent? I wonder how others react? I wish I felt as free to say it out loud’). Please don’t cut back on either. Your generosity enriches many of us.
Whatever you write about, I learn. Now, granted, it's anathema around Norman to admit you're indifferent to sports, and I just lost the sports fan in my life, but I probably lean toward your political commentary. Write what moves you to express. What you need to say. We'll be here! And HBD