What’s old is new … or something

If you’re reading this right now, it’s likely because you follow me on Twitter — thank for that, btw — and saw my “ressurrection” post. So most of you know me, and some of you likely used to visit the blog that one of my followers designed for me. You know, the one with AT&T Park in the background and a cool baseball-in-broken-chains logo.

That’s gone. This is a new blog, sort of.

As you can see, this is obviously not as cool-looking as the old one. I just didn’t feel right hitting up my generous Twitter followers again, because the cool-looking blog died off due to my own neglect/apathy/self-sabotage. It would have been be selfish and wrong to ask someone else to clean up my mess, so I decided to just go back to the generic format — simple, no-frills, self-supported and -maintained — with which I started blogging way back in the day.

So it’s not really a new blog. It’s the oldest of my old blogs; the only thing new about it is the fancy new blue background. I still have no idea how to make the text darker, btw. Feel free to help a brutha out on that.

Aaaanyway, I’m happy to report that neglect, apathy and self-sabotage have been replaced by action, drive and clarity of purpose. In other words, I’m back.

From where? Let’s just say it was a pretty friggin’ dark place. I might reveal more over time, I might not. I’ll let the Power guiding me determine that.

For now, let’s just say the lights are back on and I’m kind of diggin’ myself again — in a confident, not arrogant, way. And that regained sense of self has me wanting to start … I don’t know … doing shit again.

(Excuse the profanity.  Certain sentiments require a certain amplification not available by traditional literary means, if you know what I means.)

So here I am again, basically returning to my roots — I started out as a writer, nothing else.

For those of you who may have only recently started following me, a quick refresher:

After graduating from the University of San Francisco, where I was a spectacularly average left-handed pitcher on a spectacularly bad baseball team while working on my Communications degree, I started a career in sports journalism that started at a weekly newspaper in Half Moon Bay and led to other newspapers, large and small. Then came the move into the digital world, in which I worked for websites big and bigger (NBCOlympics.com, MLB.com) before transitioning into television (CSN Bay Area) and radio (KNBR-680 AM, 95.7 FM The Game).

Somewhere in that 22-year span, I managed to get a book published. It’s called “ACES,” and it’s about Tim Hudson, Mark Mulder and Barry Zito, who essentially made “Moneyball” possible by winning a ton of games for the 1999-2004 Oakland A’s, but were virtually ignored in Michael Lewis’ book and Brad Pitt’s movie. “ACES” came out in 2005, and you can buy it online these days for, like, a dollar or something. It’s worth at least twice that.

No movie planned as of now, but if there ever is one, Art Howe will not be portrayed as out-of-shape dickhead, Huddy will be played by Ed Norton with a shaved dome or John Malkovich, and I will be played by David Morse, whom I’m chagrined to admit really does look quite a bit like me.

I digress. Get used to it. I stopped taking my ADHD medicine (read: speed) when I graduated from USF. And unlike 95 percent of people diagnosed with the disorder, I actually have it. Nowadays it seems like every kid who brings home a report card riddled with C’s and D’s, and every professional athlete hooked on outlawed greenies, gets an ADD or ADHD diagnosis so parents and front offices can feel less responsible for their developmental failures.

Wait. That was another digression, wasn’t it? Oh well. Don’t even try to say it wasn’t at least slightly amusing.

Decidedly less amusing is the fact that starting with the expiration (and non-renewal) of my contract at CSN in the fall of 2011, a variety of circumstances, including me being a zoo, gradually pushed me out of my various media jobs. My last regular gig, as a columnist for the Examiner, was discontinued due to “budgetary issues.”

All of which led to budgetary issues of my own, so now I’m starting a career in hospital administration. Specifically, nursing homes.

Quite a change, yes, but every business, when you get right down to it, depends heavily on one’s ability to effectively communicate and build/maintain strong relationships. And those abilities were key to most of the success I found in media. It was when the ridiculously outsized sense of entitlement (and, paradoxically, insecurity) that I developed during my ascent started to overshadow my other skills that things started to go south.

Life is heading north again, however, and my new life is infinitely more stable and rewarding.

My best days toward the end of my media career were highlighted by people telling me “great show” or the like. My job was to entertain.

My best days at work these days are highlighted by people expressing thanks for the dignity, peace of mind and quality care I helped to provide for a family during trying times. My job is to comfort, reassure and lead.

This suits me better, and it’s helped me immensely in my personal life as well.

I’m focused less on the selfish pursuits that consumed me while climbing the media ladder, focusing instead — intensely so — on the far-more-satisfying endeavor that is trying to be a good, honest, responsible person … a loving and supportive husband … a doting father of two young girls who make waking up every morning a genuine joy … a reliable friend.

I still love writing, though, and I now realize that my first mistake in media was in chasing the money and attention that comes with TV and radio work — as opposed to honoring and honing the writing skills that allowed me to explore TV and radio in the first place.

Hence this reclaimed space on the ‘net, this “ressurrection.” It’s my karmic makeup call for pissing on one of my gifts for far too long.

Sports will be the primary subject here, but if you know me at all you know I’m prone to pop off about pop culture and, every now and then, share some of the life lessons I’ve learned the hard way.

And as always, my thoughts will be presented as they come to mind — always unfiltered, hopefully humorous as often as not, and unconditionally from the heart.

Thanks for stopping by. Please do so often. I plan to post daily as part of my ongoing effort to fully restore a life that I’d let go awry. The hope being that somehow, someway, it helps me become the best possible version of myself —  the man I was meant to be.

Failing that, I’ll just rip Bud Selig a new hole every other day for dogging the A’s; steer Giants fans clear of the razor blades in the wake of every three-game losing streak; explain why J-Jack is easily replaceable if my beloved Dubs don’t bring him back; gently mock Jim Harbaugh for taking himself entirely too seriously; marvel at the blind devotion to Raider Nation; make a fool of myself trying to sound like I know hockey from a hemorroid; and let the chips fall where they will.

Have a great Friday night, y’all. What rhymes with “hug me”?

–Urbs