Coupeville Sports

I can be a royal pain in the ass.

That Kasia never hauled off and smacked me in the face during our years together at The Examiner remains a bit of a surprise. Probably the only saving grace was that we didn’t work together in the same office — as we did back in the old days at the News-Times — so she could tune me out when she needed to do so.

I am not fond of people editing my writing, that much is true. Every word nipped is like a dagger, and I’m still pissed at the three paragraphs that vanished from my Paul Newman obit video column years ago…

I also am impatient, and since most of my enjoyment in covering sports has been in flogging the News-Times by beating them on stories, each and every time I sent a story in, it was hell on earth waiting for it to be posted online, whether it was five minutes or 48 hours later.

In the grand scheme of things, scooping the competition on a new CHS girls’ basketball coach being hired probably didn’t mean a lot. Except I knew I beat them, and they knew I beat them, and that was the whole point.

Then, the Examiner got sold to the Evil Empire and suddenly the competition factor went away.

But, my inability to deal with waiting for my stories to be posted and my loathing of occasionally being trimmed for “violating community standards” still lingered.

I have been sick for the past year, battling thyroid problems, or, as the doctor is prone to putting it, “I don’t really know what’s wrong.” And, after much thought, I have come to the realization I can’t go through another school year of firing off a story at 11:30 PM and then being on pins and needles until it magically appears on the Examiner web site.

I need the immediate rush of seeing my babblings pop onscreen and I need the joy of, at least metaphorically, flipping the bird at the Evil Empire every time I beat them with a story.

Call it immature. I’m fine with that.

But it is reality, which is why I will no longer be writing for the Examiner, but will instead camp out here on this blog. A place where I can post at 2:36 in the morning and a place where I can use the phrase “son of a goat-lickin’ whore” if I should so desire.

And that’s the way it is. At least for now.