It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
Well, maybe something…
I’ve spilled a whole lot of words out onto the internet between August 15, 2012, and October 25, 2026, as I’ve obsessively documented the prairie sporting life.
And some stuff that wasn’t sports.
Cause I’m obstinate.
A fair number of them have been the 2 AM ramblings of a guy camped out on the shores of Penn Cove, fond of freaking out the feral cats outside with my rantings at the universe.
Some stories have made an impact. Some have faded.
Some had intricate word play. Others probably would have benefited from an editor.
A few have royally cheesed off someone, from the fan bases of South Whidbey to King’s to Archbishop Thomas Murphy to Friday Harbor, and back around.
Which, at the very least, means someone was reading them.
It is the blog which apparently can’t die, even if the occasional mush-brained South Whidbey School District school board member has tried in vain to get my supporters to boycott me.
Heck, I’ve even tried to kill it off a few times along the way myself, but like the star of a George Romero zombie flick, it rises again to stagger across the horizon.
What has Coupeville Sports accomplished as this article, ol’ #13,000, clicks into view? What’s my legacy here?
That’s for others to decide. Argue amongst yourselves.
Me? I’m going back to bed. The cats will appreciate the silence.
