This will be my final column of the season: 218 posts in the past 218 days. Will return in June after the NBA Finals.
Was thinking tonight about how this blog started, and the unexpected path that led to today--the close of its 10th season.
I launched this page to try to sell more books. In those early days, my tone matched my book's tone: satirically arrogant. "If you're not a winner, you're a loser." That sort of thing. I was pretending to try to shake some sense into readers. But not really pretending. Because the philosophy behind it was consistent and, admittedly, genuine.
I was playing the part of a showhorse, competing for attention with other showhorses. Being relatively new to the industry, I felt pressure to prove I knew what I was talking about. By being transparent each season ("Bold Predictions," "Top 10 Positional Rankings"), I wanted to show that predictions/rankings from industry "experts" were no better than mine.
Then one day in 2015--I'll never forget the moment I read it, but frustratingly can't remember who wrote it--a reader commented that I shouldn't waste time comparing my predictions to other people's. That I should keep the focus on my work, and let it stand on its own merits.
That changed everything. I didn't realize it right away. But his words stuck with me, and within a few months I resolved to stop trying to be a showhorse. Let the work speak for itself. Remain courteous, responsive, and research-driven, but not get hung up on where I stood in the industry.
Because quantifying quality is impossible. Yet the industry consumes--and is consumed by--people who desperately want the quality of their ideas to be quantified: more page likes, more retweets, more attention.
This fantasy community--all of you--empower me to focus on what matters most: quality irrespective of its industry impact. Some of the best advice I've given this year has been 1:1 in private chats. Some of the worst advice I've given has been expressed very publicly on this page, where I feel compelled the next day to say, "Yep, I messed that up." And you keep coming back. And collectively, we try to get smarter about a game we love.
So thank you for giving me the space to succeed and fail without pressure or judgment--to focus on quality for quality's sake. The best advice I can offer, based on the most probable outcomes I can ascertain, based on the research I've done so far.
Was thinking tonight about how this blog started, and the unexpected path that led to today--the close of its 10th season.
I launched this page to try to sell more books. In those early days, my tone matched my book's tone: satirically arrogant. "If you're not a winner, you're a loser." That sort of thing. I was pretending to try to shake some sense into readers. But not really pretending. Because the philosophy behind it was consistent and, admittedly, genuine.
I was playing the part of a showhorse, competing for attention with other showhorses. Being relatively new to the industry, I felt pressure to prove I knew what I was talking about. By being transparent each season ("Bold Predictions," "Top 10 Positional Rankings"), I wanted to show that predictions/rankings from industry "experts" were no better than mine.
Then one day in 2015--I'll never forget the moment I read it, but frustratingly can't remember who wrote it--a reader commented that I shouldn't waste time comparing my predictions to other people's. That I should keep the focus on my work, and let it stand on its own merits.
That changed everything. I didn't realize it right away. But his words stuck with me, and within a few months I resolved to stop trying to be a showhorse. Let the work speak for itself. Remain courteous, responsive, and research-driven, but not get hung up on where I stood in the industry.
Because quantifying quality is impossible. Yet the industry consumes--and is consumed by--people who desperately want the quality of their ideas to be quantified: more page likes, more retweets, more attention.
This fantasy community--all of you--empower me to focus on what matters most: quality irrespective of its industry impact. Some of the best advice I've given this year has been 1:1 in private chats. Some of the worst advice I've given has been expressed very publicly on this page, where I feel compelled the next day to say, "Yep, I messed that up." And you keep coming back. And collectively, we try to get smarter about a game we love.
So thank you for giving me the space to succeed and fail without pressure or judgment--to focus on quality for quality's sake. The best advice I can offer, based on the most probable outcomes I can ascertain, based on the research I've done so far.
And thank you for motivating and inspiring me to keep working harder--not because I want to move up in the industry, but because I don't want to let you down.
Have a fantastic offseason.