Two years ago, having been conceived in the minds of commiserative suffering and gestated in the womb of indignant hope, Obstructed View was born. We celebrated the cerebral union of four
great genius prize-winning semi-literate minds (operating under our noms de plumes, mb21, aisle 424, berselius, and yours truly, and counting) the way any intellectual quadrumvirate would: with a series of poorly crafted photoshop images. We were the Beatles. We were the cast of Seinfeld. We were the master impressionists. We were South Park.
I was Kenny, because, oh my God, I have a habit of dying every week, most recently for good. But I got better.
If writing about the Cubs were an art form and Cub wins were our payment, we'd be considered starving artists. Not counting the postseason, the Cubs are 132-192 since we launched this site. Fortunately for us, writing about the Cubs is a soulless bed of commercial extravagance, and we're all the sort of rich that makes any sell-out adopt a false sense of dissatisfaction with material possessions.
But before wealth spoiled the innocence of our organic grassroots blogging origins, we never got into this for the money, the fame, the notoriety, or the women. No, we did it on the simple premise that baseball, even Cubs baseball is good. And talking and writing about baseball is fun. And talking about baseball is most fun when done with people who know what they're talking about, people interested in getting it right and willing to admit when they get it wrong . . . hell, even hoping to discover they're wrong. More, better information . . . people who are fans of that and Cubs baseball? They're fun to talk to. Absent that, it's still nice when those who know nothing are at least somewhat entertaining, and absent that, the boring dumb folk who are good sports about their mind-numbing stupidity are pretty cool to discuss baseball with, too, hence my inclusion in this beautiful mess.
Okay, maybe that's not the simplest premise, but it's not exactly genetic engineering. Were it actually genetic engineering, it would still be germaine to most posts on this blog, because we have always welcomed discussions on just about anything. Tongue in cheek, face in palm, mind in the ether, Obstructed View is and always has been a place where discussion both thoughtul and mindless is more or less welcomed.
It's a good place. It's a good blog. I don't mind saying that, especially since I am by no means responsible for it.
The beginning of the baseball season has reminded me, as perhaps it has you, that baseball is good. It is more than a pasttime. It's a hobby. It's a field of knowledge and culture and passion that allows us to witness and measure and analyze the performance of men doing the stuff of which we dream.
Even the worst of teams (and the Cubs just may be that) is comprised of elite baseball players. The team we like, playing the game we love, cheered on by the friends we've made along the way . . . who we may or may not care to meet in real life ever. For two years now, we've been documenting our travails in this hobby, this pasttime, this sick and fruitless love affair, right here on Obstructed View. We've been fans for much longer than that. We'll be pretend Internet friends for much longer still. But nothing compares to the length of time we'll have to wait for a World Series crown on the north side.
In the meantime, we'll enjoy the ride. We'll continue to comment on this sport that distracts us from real life, and we'll continue to comment on the various pursuits that distract us from this shitty team. And I'll continue to intend to post more. But for now, I just want to say thank you to everyone who reads, comments, and writes on this blog. It has been an interesting couple of years. I hope this one surprises us.
Go Cubs. Happy birthday, OV. Thanks, everybody.