Winding The Clock
I’ve looked around the American soccer landscape for months and have been discouraged. The same content rehashed, cut, and diced a dozen different ways. I can certainly list who I consider the biggest offenders, but what’s the point. Fake Sigi apparently shares my feelings, recently posting a block quote from Hipster Runoff. A choice quote:
I am not a writer. I am not a blogger. I am a content farmer.
I’ve almost been there; it does get hard to keep doing this day after day. Looking around and seeing what qualifies as “good”; envious of others success. It’s a vicious cycle. It’s a race I’m not committed to winning, not at the expense of keeping the rest of my life in order.
To disagree with the Hipster Runoff post referenced above, I’m not going to believe a word. I’m certainly not the eternal optimist. I’m not known for my sunny disposition. I can focus on the stuff that drives me crazy, but even I reach a time when I need to put up or shut up. I instantly thought of letter that the writer E.B. White wrote in 1973 that I’ve had open for over three weeks. The closing paragraph sums it up quite nicely:
Hang on to your hat. Hang on to your hope. And wind the clock, for tomorrow is another day.
I’m going to leave the content to others and write for me. I’m going to wind the clock.