My absurd employment

Sports writing is a weird gig. You go to a cocktail party, or meet some guy your wife works with, and you're not a celebrity, but the reaction is different than if you sold insurance.

There is a romantic assumption about what we do, that it's somehow all getting paid to watch games and hang out with athletes.

There is a different side of this job, too, and I'm not just talking about the (scary?) transition period that all media is going through right now.

Take All-Star weekend, for instance. Lot of people look and see, oh, New York City, All-Star Game, parties, wow, that's awesome.

But it's a job. There are meetings, just like most jobs. Deadlines, just like most jobs, although our deadlines last night were basically as soon as the game ends, if not sooner.

My back is a little sore from the elementary school chair I sat in the last few days, but at least it was crowded enough that every time someone squeezed by behind me I got hit in the neck with a gut.

New York is one of the best places in the world to eat, though the work days are so long my diet was hotel breakfast, boxed turkey sandwich for lunch, then boxed turkey sandwich for dinner.

Tuesday night was mostly a blur, I remember Joakim Soria pitching, and Justin Morneau running home, and then even after the game was over and the stories sent in having enough work to do to get back to the hotel with just enough time to change, pack, and catch my 4:15 a.m. ride to the airport.

(waiting)

(thinking)

Oh, who are we kidding? There's a reason this is the only job I've ever really wanted. There's a reason that the incomplete list of headaches above is worth it.

Lots of people read and think about sports when they're goofing off and taking time off their job. I'm lucky enough that it's part of my job.

I'm at least 10 rungs down from big-time, but have been lucky enough for this job to take me all over the country, to places I wouldn't have otherwise gone, to events I never would've otherwise been at, and to talk to fascinating people I never would've otherwise met.

Heck, I've been looking forward to next week's induction ceremonies in Cooperstown ever since I found out I was going.

Oh, sure, my seat was uncomfortable and the only two hours of sleep I got Tuesday night was on my flight back to KC, but I'll always remember the cheers and the magic from Josh Hamilton's first round at the Home Run Derby, and being at a sold-out Yankee Stadium when all those Hall of Famers were introduced, and watching one of the more memorable All-Star Games in recent history.

I'll remember Jonathan Papelbon being rightfully pissed at the "Papelbum" headline, Nate McLouth forcing a nation's worth of baseball fans to ask "Who?" when he threw out Dioner Navarro at the plate, and Joakim Soria's genuine joy of being able to hang with his fellow All-Stars, particularly Mariano Rivera.

There are reasons that sports writing has turned good people bitter. There are headaches in this job that I didn't have in NY but have driven people to decide the crazy hours and constantly being "on" just isn't worth it.

Not really sure why I'm in such a reflective mood this morning. Thanks for making it this far. Hopefully there's a point in here somewhere.

Guess I just wanted to say thanks for making this job worth it, for creating the kind of interest in sports that mean I can have this absurd job.